Devon
I’m losing my mind. I stand at the corner of the street, hands resting on my head, fingers twisted in my hair and my chest heaving. I’ve been free for less than twenty-four hours, and I’ve fucked the love of my life while simultaneously being stabbed in the heart by her. She’s all I thought about every day in that godforsaken hellhole, and I finally have her in my grasp, but it feels like she’s slipping right through.
A part of me wants to snap Mike’s neck the next time I see him, while the other part knows she would never forgive me if I did. Once I got out, there wasn’t much to my plan other than to just be with Cami. I knew that the money my grandfather had put aside for me had grown exponentially. The advice of a financial guy from my lawyer eased any worries I had about needing a job. Cami had never been one to care about clothes, cars, or a fancy house, or so I thought. I wasn’t worried about providing for her if that’s what she wanted, but this is like staring at a woman I don’t recognize.
Taking in big gulps of the cold air, I’ve never felt so trapped as I glance around. Rows of identical square lawns lined up next to each other, varying shades of beige and cream houses with a difference of three designs take up both sides of the streets. Even trees of equal height grow in front of every other house, their branches dipping toward the asphalt in a picture-perfect arch. Nothing about this suburb accepts originality, anything out of the ordinary is doomed to wither. It makes me sick, another reminder that I don’t fit into Cami’s life.
“Hey! Did you just move into the neighborhood?” a cheery voice calls out to my right.
I turn to watch a bubbly blonde jog down the driveway I’m standing near. She’s in a tight tank top and black leggings that reveal her toned body. Her golden hair is slicked back in a high ponytail, showing off her overly friendly face. If I’m honest, she’s not bad-looking, easy enough on the eyes.
I drop my hands, tilting my head for my eyes to roam down her entire figure and back up to her flushed cheeks. She lets out a nervous laugh as she stands before me, then she tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, and the diamond ring on her finger glistens in the sun. It’s hard to stop the sneer curling on my lips, but I don’t want to deal with another married woman.
I blow out a breath to calm my irrational anger and give her a flirtatious smile. “Something like that, yeah.”
Her eyelashes flutter once. “Oh. Are you staying with someone then? I’m Karen, by the way.”
My gaze flickers to Cami’s house and back to Karen. She follows my stare and her smile widens. “Cami and Mike’s? They’re such lovely people.”
My eyebrows raise. “Know them well?”
She shrugs. “As well as the other neighbors. We all try to have a few BBQs during the summer. Andrew has the largest pool and the Johnsons have a well-built firepit.”
Irritation grates my nerves, not only because I don’t give a fuck who she’s talking about, but because she decided to strike up a conversation to begin with. The casual reminder that Cami has built a life like something straight out a Hallmark movie is making me sick.
“Did you need something?” I ask her curtly.
Her eyes widen as she blinks at me, stunned. “Oh. Uhm—no. Just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood. Or if you’re visiting, then maybe offer you some spots to see while here.”
I roll my tongue over my bottom lip. “You’re awfully nosy. Are you sure that’s the only thing you wanted to offer?” My eyes drop to her pushed-up cleavage. She isn’t Cami, and my cock doesn’t even twitch at the thought of touching her. But my hurt and anger from earlier are still lingering inside, pushing me to do something equally drastic to inflict the same feelings on Cami.
Karen’s cheeks flush, the blush creeping down her neck and over the swells of her breasts. “I’m married.”
I smirk, lifting the bottom of my shirt to wipe at the sweat slowly rolling down my face. Her mouth drops as she takes in my muscular abdomen, littered with more tattoos. “And?” I prompt her.
She shakes her head, taking a step back. “I should get back. It was nice to meet you,” she mutters before turning quickly to hurry back into her house.
With a chuckle, I jog back. A part of me is relieved that she didn’t take up my offer because I’m not sure I could perform. Every part of my body is owned by the dark-haired beauty a few houses down.
Their lawn is due to be trimmed, and I think about mowing it for them. But as I get closer to the door, I take in the small home sign spelled out with Scrabble tiles and I scowl. It’s a decor item I know Cami would never buy, so it’s something she got to appease Mike. Taking the stupid sign, I snap it in half over my knee and toss it in the trash can on the side of the house before making my way through the front door.
I can hear her in the kitchen, and the anger I’m becoming familiar with rises. When I imagined our life together, I never saw her as the perfect housewife straight out of a movie. It felt right, but the fact that she became this for another man diminishes any desire to see her in that role.
She looks up from where she’s wiping down the counter, her gaze taking in my soaked t-shirt and shorts. “You have a good run?”
“Yup,” I say, walking to the fridge to grab water. “Met your neighbor, Karen. She’s hot.”
Cami’s eyebrows furrow as I watch her, and her shoulders slump before she faces the counters again. “Oh. Yeah. Karen is super sweet.”
I finish gulping down the last few sips, quenching my parched throat. Then I toss the bottle into the trash before moving to lean next to her. “She’s also married.”
“Is that your type now?” Cami snaps out with a huff. Her arms scrub back and forth in quick, jerky circles.
Dragging my teeth along my bottom lip, I withhold my laughter at her angry, pinched face. “My type is the same as it was ten years ago.”
Cami pauses, her lashes fluttering as she looks up. “Are you sure? Because tastes can change.”
“I’m sure, even if I’m tempted to try something new.”
Her jaw clenches but then she nods, and turns back to cleaning. I sigh, unhappy with the tension between us. “Mike mentioned projects around the house?”
“You don’t have to do that,” she whispers softly.
I grab her elbow, pulling her a step closer to me. She straightens, but her head is still tilted down. I study her face, my thumb caressing a circle into her arm.
“I want to,” I tell her.
She sucks her bottom lip in and then nods. When her eyes lift to meet mine, the familiar fluttering in my chest has me swallowing down the ache building in my throat. The first time I saw Cami all it took was one glance into her soul and I was goner. I could never look away after that.
“Okay,” she says, and I know we will be fine.
***
“How was your first full day as a free man?” Mike asks, pulling the bowl of corn bread closer to him.
Cami’s eyes lift to mine, the fear in them makes my teeth grind. I want to blurt out how delicious his wife’s snug cunt felt around my cock, but I don’t want to hurt her.
Clearing my throat, I push my spoon around in my chili. “It felt long and short at the same time.”
Mike nods, smiling at me. “I can’t imagine. You two get some bonding time?”
She chokes on the sip of soda she just took, spraying the syrupy drink all over her dress. He pushes back from his chair and grabs a roll of paper towels from the kitchen. “You okay, darling?”
Cami nods furiously, dabbing at the splattered drops on her chest. I watch, enjoying how flustered she is and take a huge bite of my food. Mike settles back into his seat slowly, watching her with a concerned expression.
“I’m fine,” she croaks out, waving a dismissive hand towards him. “Really, it just went down the wrong way.”
Licking my lips, I smile. “We did,” I say, answering Mike’s previous question. “She made me my favorite pancakes. It was just like old times.”
Mike grins, chuckling softly to himself. “Yeah, I miss her breakfast. Sometimes I wish I didn’t have to start so early at work.”
“Then quit. Cami’s trust fund should be enough to live off of,” I say with a shrug.
They both fall silent and exchange a somber look that burns my insides. It’s a private conversation with no words that only they understand.
“I don’t touch my trust fund. Not since I graduated,” Cami admits. Her focus shifts to her food.
Mike shifts in his seat, clearing his throat. “I enjoy working. Just the occasional longing to stay home with my wife, but otherwise, I do what I need to provide for us.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Do you know how much sits in her bank accounts?”
“,” Cami scolds in a seething voice.
“Millions. And that’s just what I know was initially given. Who knows what she’s done since? I hope invested and racked up that interest.”
Mike pierces me with a blank stare. It seems like he’s unsurprised by the amount. I can’t fathom why he would work if she’s as wealthy as I know she is. My father only contacted me twice during my sentence, once to inform me of Cami taking her inheritance, and the second time to inform me she had gotten married. Thankfully, she had already told me the second one before him or else I might have lost my head.
“I don’t want their money. I did what I needed to survive at first, but after that… it’s put away for our children,” Cami spits out, pushing away from the table.
Our children falling from her lips sends a shiver up my spine and I imagine her swollen belly. She storms from the room, and I lean back into my chair, watching her retreating form.
“Cami and I are honest about everything in our relationship,” Mike says. My attention falls to him, and I almost feel bad because that’s so far from the truth that it’s nearly laughable.
He sighs, tugging at the collar of his shirt and losing a button. “I get you’re angry. You’re mad at the world for the hand it dealt you, but don’t take it out on her.”
“Don’t assume you know anything about me,” I sneer.
His eyes harden. “I know we opened our home to you. I know if we were to kick you out and your probation officer came looking, your ass would land right back where it was. Cami has the biggest, kindest heart I’ve ever known. If you do anything to hurt her, I’ll make up enough lies that not even Satan himself could free you from the prison sentence thrown at you.”
I bite my tongue, hating the respect I gain for him because of his threats. One sentence and I could cripple his entire house of cards, but at the cost of the one person we both love. So I remain silent, staring at him with a blank expression.
He eventually drops his gaze back to his bowl of chili and begins eating. In another minute, I relax my shoulders and do the same.