Chapter 1 #2
“I know.” I hug her back after she gets up and wraps her arms around me.
“You’ll get through this, M. You’re the strongest person I know,” she whispers, and my eyes slide closed.
I am strong, but sometimes it sucks having to be so strong.
Especially when it’s because you don’t have any other choice.
Chapter 3
Miranda
Standing in my bathroom, I put the final touch on my makeup while Kingston sits on the counter with his iPad, watching a video about farm animals.
It’s been seven days since I found out Bowie is having an affair, and since then, I’ve gotten my job back at the salon, found a place to rent thanks to a woman named April, who happens to be the client Emma told me about.
And yesterday, I got Kingston put on the waiting list at a couple of daycares, since I will be working during the day and can’t take him with me.
I’ve also avoided almost all contact with my soon-to-be ex-husband, which has been easier than it should’ve been. Then again, with him staying out late almost every night and claiming exhaustion when he is home, he’s the one who’s made it easy for me.
But try as I might, I couldn’t avoid him this evening, even though the last thing in the world I want to do is get dressed up to go with him.
Tonight, is the annual Policemen’s Ball, something I used to look forward to attending with him, because it gave me an excuse to buy a pretty new dress and get dolled up—two things I love doing.
However, this year is obviously different, so I didn’t buy something new, even though I said I was going to.
Instead, I put the three hundred dollars Bowie gave me in my new bank account and borrowed a dress from a friend of mine, Whinny, who is an avid pageant participant.
“You wook pretty, Mama,” Kingston says, and I look over at my sweet boy.
“Thank you, lovie.” I lean over and kiss his forehead before focusing back on my reflection in the mirror.
With my long blonde hair down in waves and my makeup darker than I would normally wear it, because Bowie hates when I wear makeup, I add a red lip as an extra “screw you,” then step back and check myself out.
I wasn’t sure about the emerald-green dress Whinny insisted I wear tonight, since my body has changed so much since having Kingston, but the silky fabric skims over my breasts that are now larger, my wider hips, and just brushes the floor, since I don’t have my heels on yet.
The material is unforgiving, but I have to admit—it looks good on me.
“Mommy is going to get her shoes.” I lift Kingston off the counter and hold him on my hip as I step into the closet. “Then we’ll go downstairs. Aunt Emma should be here soon.”
“I want to stay wif you.”
“I know, love, but Mommy has to go out with Daddy. And remember, you love hanging out with Aunt Emma.” I place him on his feet so I can reach up to one of the higher shelves where my heels are. “Tomorrow, you and I will go to the park, okay?” I ask, hoping to distract him.
“I’ll get them.” Bowie’s body presses against my back, and my skin crawls as he reaches above me for the heels I was trying to get.
“Thanks.” I step away from him as he hands them to me, holding the shoes against my chest. When I turn to face him, his eyes roam over me as mine do the same to him.
The first time we met, he came into the salon for a haircut in his uniform, and I was not even a little impressed.
I mean, sure, he was and still is a good-looking man, with his olive skin, dark hair, and brown eyes.
But his obvious arrogance was a huge red flag, so I turned him down when he asked me out.
I expected that to be the last time I saw him, but he surprised me by showing up almost daily to visit me at work, and eventually he wore me down, and I agreed to a date.
It was then that I found out how funny, charming, and attentive he could be.
And not even four months later, I was in love and planning our wedding.
Now looking at him, I feel nothing. That love I once had for him is gone and has been replaced with disappointment.
If he would have been honest with me and told me that he no longer loved me and that he wanted something else, it would have hurt, but I would have respected him for being truthful. Now? Now, I don’t even have that.
“Don’t you think the red lipstick is too much?” he asks, dragging me from my thoughts, and I force a smile as I walk past him.
“Nope.”
“Nope,” Kingston repeats, following right behind me, and I sit on the edge of the bed. After putting on the strappy gold heels, I stand and walk back into the closet to grab my clutch just as the doorbell goes off. “Can you take Kingston with you and get that? It’s Emma,” I call out.
“Yeah,” I hear him agree.
After putting the things I’ll need into my beaded clutch, I grab my dress coat and carefully manage the stairs in my heels, then head into the kitchen, where I can hear Emma laughing with Kingston.
“Are you ready?” Bowie asks as soon as I walk around the corner—without even an appreciative glance in my direction.
“Yep.” I look from him to Emma. “Thank you.”
“Any time.” She places Kingston on his feet, then comes over to me and wraps me in a hug. “Are you okay?” she whispers, and I nod. “Just so you know, if I didn’t love dick so much, I’d totally bang you.”
“Shut up.” I laugh, and she lets me go with a wide smile on her face.
“Just saying.”
“What?” Bowie asks, looking between us with a frown.
“Nothing,” we say at the same time, and I squat down, holding my arms open for Kingston, and he runs toward me, almost knocking me over. “Be good for Aunt Emma, and Mommy will be home soon.”
“Pwomise?”
“Promise.” I kiss his cheek, then wipe away the red stain my lipstick left behind. “I love you.”
“Wov you.” He gives my neck one last squeeze, then hugs his dad before Emma calls for him to join her in the living room, where she’s pulling out a game.
Walking ahead of Bowie out to the garage, I get into the front seat of his truck and click my belt into place as he gets in behind the wheel.
We don’t talk the entire drive downtown, and he doesn’t make a move to touch me, which makes me wonder if he won’t be relieved when I tell him that I know about Naomie.
Maybe he’s in love with her.
Maybe they are in love with each other.
That thought should hurt, but it doesn’t. I’m numb, completely void of any emotion when it comes to him.
When we get to the hotel the event is being held at, he valets the car at the front, then the two of us walk in side by side. He doesn’t touch me until people look in our direction when we enter the ballroom, and that’s when he places his hand on my lower back.
“Do you want a drink?” he asks, and I step away from him and look around.
“Yeah, I’m just going to find out where we’re sitting.
I’ll meet you at the bar.” I turn away before he can reply, and I walk over to a long table covered with folded note cards that have names printed on them in gold.
Just when I find Bowie’s card and mine and pick them up, the name Tucker Beckett catches my attention.
It can’t be. Can it?
Scanning the cards around Tucker’s, my heart starts to pound when I see Naomie Beckett on the card under his.
Does she work with Bowie, or does Tucker? Either way, I didn’t plan for this. I didn’t prepare myself for seeing the woman Bowie is sleeping with and her husband she’s cheating on.
“Pardon,” a deep voice says, reaching in front of me, and when masculine fingers pinch the top of the card I was just looking at seconds ago, in slow motion, my eyes move from the hand now holding Tucker’s card, up the sleeve of a black suit jacket, to a wide chest and then a gorgeous face.
With my heart racing and my palms suddenly sweaty, I take in a gulp of air as a set of haunted crystal-clear blue eyes surrounded by thick lashes meet mine.
I’m going to pass out.
“Are you all right?” he asks, wrapping his fingers around my upper arm when my heel gets caught on the bottom of my dress as I try to take a step back and away from him.
“Yes, sorry.” I right myself, then feel the blood drain from my face when a woman wearing a red dress with dark hair walks toward us while calling his name.
The same woman I saw in the photo on Bowie’s computer.
“I’m so sorry.” I stumble, backing up. “So, so sorry,” I whisper, and his brows drag together.
Spinning in my heels, I rush out of the ballroom and scan for somewhere to pull myself together, thankfully finding a small alcove a little ways down the carpeted hall.
With my hands shaking, I pull out my phone and dial Emma’s number.
She’s the only one who knows what’s going on, the only one I can talk to right now.
“Hey, are you coming home already?”
“She’s here.”
“What?”
“She and her husband are here.” I shake my head. “I saw his name… and then hers… and they’re both here,” I ramble.
“Breathe, M. I don’t understand.” She sounds confused, and I squeeze my eyes closed.
“Naomie and Tucker.” I swallow. “Bowie had to know they would be here, right? He had to know that. I mean, it’s obvious now that he works with one of them. Or maybe he works with both of them. I don’t know.”
“M, you need to come home right now!” she shouts, sounding panicked.
“I can’t. You know I can’t.” I drop my eyes to my feet. “If I just take off, he’ll know something is up.” I spin around when I swear I feel someone watching me, and my phone slips from my grasp when I see Tucker standing just feet away.
Oh God
He steps toward me, and I back away from him, bumping into the wall behind me as he bends to pick my phone up off the ground between us.
“End the call,” he orders, holding my phone out toward me, and my pulse skitters.
With shaking hands, I put it to my ear. “Emma, I have to go.”
“Who is that? What’s going on?”
“Tucker’s here.”
“Oh, Jesus, M. I have to tell you something.”
“End the call,” Tucker repeats.