FOURTEEN | Melting Down | Tinsley
FOURTEEN
Melting Down
Tinsley
I was a wreck. A blazing mess of hurt, frustration, and rage out of control. I could burn Mitt’s mansion down with the flames whipping from me and leave his home in ashes at my feet—leave him inside with his overbearing father and let them both burn in hell for the scheme they had led me straight into. I had never been more pissed off in my entire life, and it was all thanks to my asshole husband.
Instead, I had to contain my fire and walk out the front door with a smile plastered on my face. A fake as fuck mode turned on for the paparazzi who never moved from their place, staking out and ready to snap a shot of us. I had to act as if I was running an errand when, in fact, I was fleeing from the mess I was dumb enough to fall for. I had never been more alone, and I didn’t want to be lonely anymore.
Usually, I’d take the subway, but I was Mrs. Morgan. Married to a man who hated me and only used me for business. But I could abuse his fortune.
“Get me out of here,” I ordered Albert, who was on standby outside of Morgan Estate in the limousine Mitt used twenty-four seven.
“But what about Mr. Morgan?”
I peered out the tinted window at the mansion that had once thrilled me. All the excitement and promise were gone. Bitterness was all that remained as every daydream turned to dust. There was a deep hole in my heart that I had hoped Mitt would fill, but he left me with nothing.
“My husband isn’t coming,” I snapped and peered straight ahead. “Drive.”
Albert gave a curt nod and took the vehicle out of park. “Very well, Mrs. Morgan.”
I gave him the address for my best friend.
“HOLLY!” I YELLED AS my fist repeatedly pounded on the door. “Holly, it’s me. Open up!”
Seconds later, the door flew open. “What are you doing here?”
“I needed to get away. To get out of there,” I answered heavily with my lungs burning, resembling an open fire. “I need time to breathe.”
The mirror in Holly’s entryway into her one-bedroom apartment made me stop and stare at myself. My hair was a frazzled mess from the snow melting with the heated apartment building, and the tip of my nose was bright red. Mascara was smeared under my bloodshot eyes. I was a walking disaster. I was thankful that the press wasn’t waiting outside Holly’s building as well; otherwise, I would have had to compose myself before stepping out of the vehicle.
The ride to my best friend’s place was a mix of emotions, and Albert put up the privacy window while I cried. My sobs filled the back of the limousine, and I took out my anger on the seats. My closed fists had pounded into the leather to the point where my knuckles turned white. But I had no one to blame except me.
“What’s going on, Tins?” Holly asked with concern, her eyebrows narrowing in the mirror’s reflection. “You were just on the news with Mitt, and you two looked so happy.”
“But it’s all a fraud!” I cried out and spun around, looking at her. “A giant sham, and I fell for it all!”
I broke down.
Holly wrapped her arms around me and held me tight. She was my rock, the one solid presence in my life I knew was true. Without her, I don’t know what I’d do or who I’d be. Holly was always there to rescue me.
“But I don’t understand?” Holly whispered in my ear when my sobs quieted. “What the hell happened?”
Holly led me to the sofa, where I slumped down, and she fixed a pot of coffee. I explained everything from the point we last spoke until now. All the surprises Mitt had for me, the intimate moments we shared, even how I overcame my fear of heights because of him.
She opened a tub of ice cream. It was my favorite—mint chocolate chip.
I took a spoon and scooped it in. The mixture of heat from the warm mug and cold from the ice cream was exactly what I needed. The abrupt changes in temperature helped minimize the shockwaves of my new reality I was still coming to grips with.
Mitt would never love me. He loathed me and played his cards right to get what he wanted. Me. But I had fallen out of the deck and wanted out.
“Well, the answer is simple...” Holly said with a shrug and scooped out some ice cream. “Divorce his ass.”
“It’s not that easy, Holly. His dad made that quite clear,” I explained with a defeated sigh and a mouthful of mint chocolate goodness. “If I draw up divorce papers, they will ruin my life.”
Holly exhaled, partially chewing. “Damn.”
“I’m screwed,” I expressed and put the tub of ice cream on the end table. “Doomed to be an unhappy wife, stuck with a man who doesn’t love me and sticks his dick in every woman but me.”
“Not me!” Holly exclaimed and innocently raised her hands. “I wouldn’t touch that asshole even if he was the last man on this earth.”
I giggled. Which turned into Holly giggling too until we were laughing and snorting with our heads thrown back against the cushions. This was the first time I had felt anything good since I found out the ugly truth.
I turned to Holly and shrugged. “At least I didn’t have to take the busy subway to get here.”
“How did you get here? I can’t see you walking in heels like that,” Holly asked as she pointed at my feet.
“Mitt has a chauffeur named Albert. I kind of took his limousine,” I snickered and held my hand over my mouth representing a bad girl who didn’t care. “Mr. Morgan won’t be leaving his mansion soon because I told Albert to keep the car warm for me.”
Something in Holly’s eyes twinkled. They gleamed with a hint of mischief, and I knew she had an idea. The squint she gave me with a wide grin was clear as she stood up from the couch and peered down at me. “What if you made Mr. Mitt Morgan give you a divorce?”
“I’m not following,” I answered with a perplexed expression.
“Either that or he fesses up to why he’s changed after coming back to New York.”
“But he’s already confessed,” I explained and shook my head. “It was all an act to get me to marry him.”
I clearly wasn’t following.
“But you were already married, and he still did wonderful things for you he didn’t have to do. Why? Why would he do that, Tins?”
Holly was right.
None of Mitt’s unforgettable gestures made sense. He only changed when we got back to the city and as soon as Cyprus Morgan was around. He didn’t have to throw a reception for us and spend more money. We didn’t need to spend time on me. We could have gone back to the city immediately.
Something was off, and I had to get an answer or win myself a divorce.
“I’m listening.” I sat up with renewed hope.
“It’s simple, actually. Get under Mitt’s skin.”
“How?” I asked.
Holly bent down in front of me and placed her hands on my knees. “Spend his money. Be the only person he thinks about from the time he wakes until he goes to sleep. Haunt his fucking dreams.”
Suddenly, my cell phone chimed with a text message.
I peered down at the screen. “It’s Mitt.”
“What does he want?” Holly asked and stood up with her arms crossed in front of her. “It better be good.”
“He wants me to meet him at the Elegant Empire restaurant for dinner,” I replied as Holly started talking, but I wasn’t listening.
I wanted the real Mitt Morgan back and not this shadow of a man who his father made him be. Somewhere in the pit of my gut, I knew he wasn’t like his dad. I wouldn’t have married him if I thought otherwise. The truth had only thrown me off course, but Holly brought me back to clarity.
Sure, my judgment of character could’ve been cloudy from all the excitement and nerves of our rushed nuptials. I knew my body, and I trusted my instincts. But I could be one-hundred percent wrong, and Mitt was only playing me from the moment he asked for my hand in marriage.
Either way, I’d make Mitt give me the answer I sought, or I’d encourage him to draw up the divorce papers himself. He had tons of money for me to spend, and I had the world at my fingertips thanks to my husband.
After all, I was Mrs. Morgan. I could do whatever the hell I wanted. And I’d do anything to get the man I married back.