Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 25544 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 128(@200wpm)___ 102(@250wpm)___ 85(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25544 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 128(@200wpm)___ 102(@250wpm)___ 85(@300wpm)
Their weekend getaway was supposed to be a trip they’d never forget. And that’s exactly what happens…when Nicole finds her husband in bed with a girl almost half his age.
She walks out in a daze…and straight into the arms of Chase Everford. Tall, good-looking, and British. He’s also her husband’s billionaire boss, and now, her knight in shining armor.
An emotional, fast-paced, microdrama-length marriage-in-crisis romance. Wronged wife. No cheating by the leads. Intense chemistry, feel-good billionaire romance. HEA guaranteed
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Chapter One
A CLOSED DOOR.
That says everything when you're a married man, your assistant happens to be young and nubile, and now those two people who should never be alone are inside a room.
And the door's closed.
For one moment, I'm just so tempted to just walk away. Because clichés are clichés for a reason, and right now all I'm thinking is—
What I don't know won't hurt me, so why can't I? Why shouldn't I just walk away? Our marriage isn't perfect, but we've been together since college. What are people going to say if things are exactly as I feared?
So just walk away, walk away, walk away—
And yet my legs are moving at the same time I'm thinking of walking away.
And instead of leaving I'm walking closer and closer, and the next thing I know I'm reaching for the knob, and it's actually cooperating with me, turning silently in my fingers like it wants me to see the evidence with my own eyes.
The door slowly opens. One stealthy inch at a time until I finally see...shapes.
Under the covers.
That's all I can allow myself to think.
Two shapes moving simultaneously in a dance that's as old as time, and just as hideous because these two shapes weren't supposed to be together behind a closed door.
These two shapes weren't bound by matrimony, weren't forged by a relationship that spanned decades. And yet the sounds they're making right now...
In the same bed that I woke up from this morning—
I turn away.
My legs have stopped shaking for some reason.
They're not shaking. They're just standing there. Holding me up like nothing's happened. Like the world hasn't just—
Stop.
Don't think.
Just walk.
And as I slowly descend, I hear...one of the shapes, yes, that's how I should think of them for now.
Shapes.
Just shapes.
Shapes, shapes, shapes.
And one of those shapes, the younger one, she's noticed the door slightly ajar—
"Has that always been opened?"
Her tone is so innocent and young. How is that possible when she's under the covers with a shape that's not hers?
"Ignore it," the older shape groans. "Come back—"
"I'm serious, Mr. Big."
Did she just—
Did she seriously—
"Please check it for me?"
A loud sigh.
"Alright, anything for my tiny."
Oh, how cute.
Mr. Big and his tiny. I don't think we were that cute even when we first started dating back in college.
Maybe that's why...he's in there with her right now and not me?
Maybe that's why I'm out here pretending my legs aren't shaking when they so obviously are?
Don't.
Don't go down that road.
Not yet.
I'm walking. That's the only job I have right now. To walk. Like I've walked down a hundred hallways exactly like this one for him, in heels I picked because he liked them, in dresses I picked because he liked them, smiling at concierges and bellmen and the wives of the other men who matter, because that's the job I signed up for at twenty-two.
I tossed my dreams all out of the window because he asked me to, and I believed that was what it meant to be a good wife.
That was all I wanted.
To be a good wife, and...and...just stop thinking, Nicole!
I look around desperately.
The walls.
Okay, the walls then.
I focus on them. The walls are...cream-colored. And...and the carpet underneath my heels is a solid color of gray and luxuriously thick. Very neutral and chic. Just like the rest of this hotel. And all the other guests, even the two shapes under—
"Nicole?"
The sound of my name on his lips is like having cold, hard reality slap me, and I just start running.
"Nicole, wait—"
I feel like laughing and crying. He sounds panicked. That's all I hear. Panic. Because I guess...that's all he cares about.
Him and her.
But not me...his wife, and I...I...I have to run.
Because his footsteps are getting louder, and so I keep running and running while telling myself, Don’t.
Don’t think and just run.
All I have to do is just keep running until I outrun reality and—
BAM!
I’ve bumped into someone else, and he's...I feel like I've seen him before, but I can't remember where. And right now, it doesn't really matter—
"Nicole, dammit!"
Because that...that shape is still calling my name out, and now he actually sounds resentful?
The way he’s acting, it’s as if I’m an inconvenience. And being hysterical and mean. It’s as if he hasn’t just been in bed with another—
“Sir!”
That’s Sandy exclaiming the word, and since I know I’m not someone he’d call that, I look up, and—
Why does this man seem familiar?
“S-Sir, I’m sorry, this is a misunderstanding.”
Sandy is actually stuttering behind me, but he also sounds like he’s coming closer and closer, and I...I just panic. I look up at the stranger who’s still holding my elbow like he thinks my knees will give out at any moment. And maybe...maybe he’s right. Because the moment I hear Sandy bite out my name like he’s dying to punish me—
“P-Please.”
The word stumbles out like the broken plea that it is.