The Substitute Wife

Chapter 7

Jack

My fork paused midair. Not where I thought the conversation was going. Emma, on the other hand, didn’t even flinch. “Oh yeah?” she said breezily, taking a sip of her water.

Sophie nodded. “Yeah. A teacher even called you Mrs. Greene.”

I felt a muscle in my neck twitch. I didn’t look at Emma, but I could feel her watching me.

Emma hummed thoughtfully. “Well, I guess that makes sense. Your dad and I were together at drop-off. And I am very motherly.”

She fluttered her lashes dramatically, making Sophie giggle. I finally looked at her, and to my surprise, there was no awkwardness in her expression—just amusement, maybe even a bit of mischief. The tension in my shoulders released slightly.

Sophie continued, completely oblivious to the undercurrents at the table. “I didn’t correct them.”

I forced a chuckle. “Is that so?”

Emma propped her chin in her hand, giving Sophie a teasing smile. “And what did you say?”

“I said your last name wasn’t Greene.’” Sophie shrugged.

After dinner, Emma offered to tidy up while I put Sophie to bed. It was a kind gesture, one I wanted to refuse—but somehow, I found myself accepting. Maybe because the thought of having someone else in the house, even for just a little while longer, wasn’t entirely unwelcome.

Once Sophie was tucked into bed, I grabbed a bottle of wine from the dining room and walked back into the kitchen. The dishwasher was wiring quietly and Emma was just finishing wiping down the counters.

“Care to stay for a glass?” I asked, holding up the bottle. “You’ll have to show me where my wine glasses are though.”

“Sure, thanks. I just happen to have three corkscrews for you to choose from.” she teased. I smiled. Emma made it easy to smile.

Emma

I stayed and cleaned up the kitchen while Jack put Sophie to bed. It felt like crossing some sort of invisible boundary, but I needed to talk to him without Sophie around. When he came back brandishing wine, I knew I needed to tread carefully to keep this professional. He’s my boss. And yes, this week we felt like an excellent team. But a work team. This was work.

At least that’s the mantra I kept on repeating in my head.

“She’s a great kid,” I said softly, watching him over the rim of my wine glass. We were in the front living room. The sun had set, and I’d turned on a few lamps that bathed the room in a cozy glow. Jack was sprawled out in a deep leather club chair while I curled up across from him on the couch. He was studying me in a way that made my stomach flip.

After a beat, he asked, “How has pick-up been this week?”

Hesitating, I set down my glass on a moving box that was serving as a makeshift side table. “Interesting. More than a few moms thought I was Sophie’s mother.”

Jack’s expression darkened slightly, but he didn’t look surprised. “It’ll pass.”

I tilted my head. “Will it?”

For a moment, he didn’t answer. Then, with a soft exhale, he ran a hand through his hair. “I should have warned you. People talk. And the dean, Dr. Rodriguez…” his voice trailed off.

“Yeah, I got that impression. Friday was an interesting pick up atmosphere. I think it’d be good for you to try and pick up on Fridays, when your schedule allows. Almost all the parents were there. Not like the other days. There was one mom in particular that was pretty forward.”

“Forward how?”

“Her name was Victoria?” Jack grimaced.

“s**t. I cannot stand that woman. Of course her kid would be at this school.”

“She was similar to the dean–she didn’t really let me get a word in edgewise and assumed I was Sophie’s mother.” I paused, “You didn’t really let me correct the dean on Monday.” Cool, composed Jack Greene was starting to look a little uncomfortable. He ran his hand over his face, stopping just short of holding his head in his hands.

“My life is complicated. And I thought that it would be easier to just let people draw their own conclusions about you. And if they assumed you were Sophie’s mom… then that was fine. Better even because that goddamn school seems set on each child having lots of involved parents.” He took a deep breath before meeting my eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Something shifted between us. The air between felt warmer, more charged.

“Thank you for the apology.” I whispered. Our eyes were still locked. I had questions, but I didn't want to break this spell. “I don’t mind the assumption that I’m Sophie’s mom. I can deal with a lie of omission… If that’s what you and Sophie want.”

“When I first met you, I thought you looked so much like her. Sophie’s mom.”

I swallowed. “What happened?”

“You’re you,” he said simply. “Just because you have similar facial features and the same color hair doesn’t make you the same.” His voice dropped slightly, rougher now. “She left us. She wanted to be a prestigious surgeon’s wife. She wanted the money and to do whatever she wanted. She didn’t want kids. To her, Sophie was an accident. It was all I could do to get her to carry the pregnancy to term.”

My stomach twisted.

“She walked out six months after Sophie was born and never came back.” his head was in his hands now. “When Sophie was one, the private investigator I’d hired finally tracked her down. She signed away her parental rights without a word.”

I wanted to be sick. How could someone walk away from Sophie? From Jack? I had only known them a week and this story was gutting. Before I could stop myself, I was across the room, perched on the arm of his chair, rubbing small circles into his back.

“I’m so sorry, Jack.” I whispered.

He shrugged, straightening back up. “It is what it is. Honestly, it usually doesn’t get to me. We’re better without her.”

When he looked up at me, I realized how close we were. His lips were right there, and my gaze flickered towards them before I could stop myself. Snap out of it Emma! My brain scolded me. But then, his eyes flicked down to my lips, too.

I swallowed hard and pushed myself off the chair. “I should probably call it a night.” I whispered.

Jack’s gaze lingered for a moment, his eyes searching mine, before he nodded. “Yeah. Goodnight, Emma.”

“Goodnight, Jack.”

As I walked back to the coach house, I tried to shake the feeling settling in my chest. This was a job. That was all.

But the way he looked at me tonight? That was dangerous. I needed to be careful or I was going to be in over my head.