Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 40554 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 203(@200wpm)___ 162(@250wpm)___ 135(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40554 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 203(@200wpm)___ 162(@250wpm)___ 135(@300wpm)
"I was about to say that, but I'm glad you're starting to think more clearly."
"I always think clearly," I sigh.
"Except when emotions get involved. Trust me, I can fight a boardroom full of men, but when my girlfriend gets going, I'm at a loss for words half the time. It's different with them."
“How is Emma?” I ask. They’ve been together for a few years, but the relationship has been hush-hush because of Emma’s family.
“Really good.” She smiles. “An announcement is coming.”
“I’m happy for you.”
“I want to be happy for you too.” She slides off her chair. “You get the bill and then go home to your wife,” she orders. “I’ll be in contact.”
I pull out my wallet to pay when Emily slips into the seat Lauren just vacated. “What are you doing here?” I ask, confused.
“You rushed out. I needed you to sign the Link deal.”
“I did.”
“I don’t see it.” She slides the tablet over to me, and there isn’t a signature. I could have sworn I signed off on it this afternoon, but who knows. I don’t trust my thoughts right now. I’m more moving through the motions and need to be paying better attention.
I flip through the document, making sure it’s the right one before I sign. “Did you eat?” Emily asks.
“No, but I will when I get home with my wife.”
“Oh, no more sleeping in the office?”
“I’m not sure about that.” I shake my head, wondering how tonight will go. I pull out my phone as I get up and send a text to my driver.
“I’m sorry. If you need someone to talk to—” she offers.
“I’ll see you at the office,” I say, dismissing her before heading out of the hotel bar.
There is only one place I truly want to be. I just hope that maybe Truly could one day want me there too.
Chapter Seven
TRULY
Why did I bother coming back here? I should have stayed and gone home with Mabel. We've been texting, but she was swamped in finals, so I've been keeping it light. She's going to murder me when I finally tell her everything. I did find out, however, that she'd gotten her passport back.
I'm stuck in this stupid warehouse, or whatever you call it. I even tried the stupid gym but got bored after ten minutes. I don't know how people walk or run in place.
My phone dings, and I roll over, grabbing it off the table. I think it's going to be a text from Mabel, but it's my stupid Google alert. Yes, I have a Google alert on my husband. It doesn't go off much, and when it does, it's about business. I mean, I guess it’s better than nothing since I haven’t seen him in a few days. Not since the kiss.
"What the hell!" I sit up when I see a picture of Blake at a bar with a woman, but not just any bar. One in a very nice hotel. Sure, the hotel has a few restaurants, but still. Is that where he's been staying? Anger hits me in a rush, followed by sadness.
He lied to me. I shouldn’t be surprised, but I can’t help the hurt and betrayal I feel. I know I’m being ridiculous. This is my fault. I shouldn’t have let my guard down around him.
Now I need a glass of wine. That first night I'd had more than a few. It helped me sleep, and I woke up okay. What wasn't okay was my Blake not being here. It's a bunch of bullshit. I don't understand why he needs to keep me as his wife. He’s a damn hypocrite too. Asking me if I was planning to have an affair while he is obviously already having one.
I’m not sure if I’m more mad or heartbroken at this point. But the wine will help me figure it out. I walk over to the kitchen, grab a glass, and pour myself a drink. When I hear the front door, my heart sinks. I’m pissed but not ready to face him.
He hasn’t been home for days, but he goes from his mistress to me? The hell? The second he spots me, his brows rise. The anger must show on my face.
“Oh, look who's home. My husband.” I try to sound sarcastic but uttering the word husband cuts deep. How long I’d wanted just that.
“You’re mad.” He pulls at his tie. Why does he always have to be so handsome?
“What would you think I would be? I’ve been trapped in this place, and you can’t bother to even come home.”
His brows rise. “The door isn’t bolted. You’re not trapped.” I open my mouth to respond, but he keeps going. “And what makes you think I haven’t been home?”
"So you've been slipping in and out of here like a coward?"
He lets out an audible breath. "I thought I was doing what was best, but now"—he shakes his head—"I don't know what I'm doing." There is a sadness to his words that gives me pause.