Wife Number Seven (The Compound, #1)(49)

She prayed as she drove back to her home, knowing that she had secured her husband’s place in heaven.



Chapter 18

Seven pairs of eyes fixed on me as Lehi delivered the news. Despite the storm developing inside me—the guilt that threatened to demolish any hope or happiness I had for a future with Porter—I did my very best to appear happy to my sister wives. If I didn’t seem elated about the blessing that was to be my first child with our husband, the other wives would know it was all a lie, the most foul form of deception.

And so my lips curled up, and with every ounce of strength within me, I forced “happy” tears to build in my eyes.

“This is new,” Lehi boomed, his voice bursting with pride at his ability to impregnate the one wife who had always been a challenge in that regard. “So we must be cautious. But it is also worthy of much celebration. Please join me in prayer.”

The wives joined hands, Aspen’s squeezing mine tightly, and we bowed our heads as Lehi led our prayer.

“Heavenly Father, we thank you for the continued blessings of this household. We are especially grateful for the new life inside Brinley. May you keep her well so that she may produce a healthy child for our family.”

When I heard the words “new life,” my gut clenched in disgust. At myself.

Lies.

So many lies were mounting. Higher and higher they climbed.

How would I ever keep up with all them?

? ? ?

When our meeting came to a close, Aspen followed me to my bedroom. It was a Saturday morning, and I was hoping to sneak away to the free clinic and to Porter’s apartment. He’d greeted me this morning with an invitation.

P: Please come by. I’ll wait all day. But hurry. I miss you.

Despite the anger I felt toward myself for my lies, my feelings had not changed for Porter. I understood his reasons—he couldn’t share me, wouldn’t share me because of the intensity of his feelings. It was flattering and wonderful and scary. I knew that I was falling in love with Porter, stolen moment by stolen moment, text message by text message. I knew that if I were brave enough to leave Lehi’s home, Porter would welcome and support me, no questions asked, no hesitation whatsoever.

I was the problem . . . the roadblock . . . the bump in the road.

Because I wasn’t brave enough to go.

And so the lie I told my husband was mine alone. I owned it, claimed it as my own deception. Porter might have thought of the lie, but I was the sole reason it had to be announced.

So his text messages gave me just as many butterflies in my belly as they did before I informed Lehi of my pretend pregnancy. And I hoped that Aspen wouldn’t prevent me from seeing him that day.

“I’m so happy for you, Brinley,” Aspen said, picking up pieces of laundry from the wicker basket on my floor, and laying them flat on my bed. “I’ll do your ironing today.”

“Really?” I asked, surprised. “That’s so nice.”

“You’ll need to rest as much as possible. Have you had any morning sickness yet? Lehi said it’s early . . . how early?”

My pulse quickened. I took a breath before continuing my lie, making sure that my story remained consistent.

“Just a few weeks. My period was due two weeks ago.”

“Did you take a test?”

I nodded.

“I always keep mine, you know, as a memento or something,” she said, tilting her head to the side. “Did you?”

“Um, no,” I replied, avoiding her curious eyes. “I didn’t think of it.”

“Oh well.” Aspen shrugged, forcing a smile. She was keeping sweet, which was odd for Aspen. When we were separated from the rest of the household, she usually ignored that mantra, instead sharing her honest thoughts and opinions. She’d always been what Leandra called an “open book” when it was just the two of us.

So, what was different now?

“You rest, I’ll take care of this.” Aspen scooped the basket into her arms and walked to the door. “If you need anything, just let me know, all right? Pregnancy can be scary.”

“Scary?”

She nodded. “It’s a whirlwind of emotions. Excitement, curiosity, with a lot of fear mixed in.”

“Why fear?”

“Remember Jessa? What she went through?”

“Yes.”

“And what I told you about myself?” Her voice cracked, and the memory of her little daughter Ruthie playing nursemaid as Aspen lost her baby came rushing back to me.

This time, the tears that left my eyes weren’t forced. They poured freely, filled with guilt and sadness for the only sister wife who seemed to actually care about me. The rest of them just looked through me.

“I’m so sorry, I—”

“Brinley, I have four healthy children. I’m not reminding you of this to make you feel bad. You asked why there’s fear, and so I answered. That’s all.”

I used my sleeve as I attempted to brush the tears, and guilt, from my face as Aspen walked out my door. But when the door clicked shut, I couldn’t contain the remorse that consumed me. I slid to the floor, leaning my back against the side of my mattress, and hung my head in my hands, tears dripping past my palms and landing on my dress.

How could I ever look Aspen in the eye again? Or Jessa?