Chapter 12 Hunter - Two Years Ago #2
Before Bunny, I was all about my job. I had goals and dreams, and sure, a family fit into that one day, but romance was the furthest thing from my mind. But, the second I met her, she stripped me bare and feasted on my flesh, consuming every piece of me until I was an integral part of her.
I know Bunny as well as I know myself.
And this? This doesn’t sit right. At all.
Bunny
Fuck me.
Fuck this night.
And fuck this stupid fucking dress.
I feel like I can’t breathe. The tight fabric strains across my chest as I inhale through my nose and exhale through my mouth, trying to stave off an impending panic attack.
Tears cling to my lashes—mascara definitely running—and Nathaniel is gripping me so tightly I know there will be bruises on my side tomorrow.
“Go clean yourself up,” he bites out through clenched teeth. “And meet me in the foyer in five. You will not embarrass me tonight more than you already have.”
As soon as his fingers loosen, I race for the exit, intent on catching Hunter before he leaves.
Your lie was bound to catch up to you. You should have been honest from the start.
Silently cursing the gown I had to rush out and buy this afternoon—because I couldn’t zip up the one I bought a few weeks ago—I storm through the doors, frantically scanning for Hunter.
I nearly yelp when a strong, warm hand encircles my bicep, turning me roughly just as I pass into the foyer. “What the fuck, Bunny?”
“I’m sorry!” I blurt when I realize it’s Hunter. Launching myself into his arms, I squeeze him around the middle like he’ll disappear if I let go. “I never meant to hurt you.”
Firmly, he pulls me off him, pushing me back. “You never meant to hurt me?” His whiskey eyes drop to my ring. “It’s been almost a year, Bunny. If you never meant to hurt me, you wouldn’t have acted interested. Wouldn’t have led me on and let me think I had a chance with you!”
“I know! I know, and I’m so sorry.” Tears line my lashes again, and I don’t care that we’re making a scene, or that Nathaniel could catch us at any moment. “Hunter, please believe me. I never meant for this to get so out of hand.”
Reaching for him again, my heart drops when he steps back and shakes his head. “Just tell me why. Why did you let me make a fool of myself?”
“You didn’t!” I plead with him to believe me. “Hunter, I swear, you weren’t a fool. I do like you—”
“You’re married!” The volume of his voice draws a few dirty looks our way. “What kind of a person does that?”
“I’m sorry.” Inhaling a shaky breath, I step closer, lowering my voice. “Look, Nathaniel has affairs all the time, and I have never even entertained the thought of so much as looking at another man… but then you came along, and—”
“Oh, fuck that.” Hunter gapes at me like I’m pathetic. Like he feels sorry for me and so damn mad at himself for falling into the trap of an unhappy, lonely, married woman. “Bunny, that’s just sad. So you… what? Thought I could be your dirty little secret?”
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I look toward the ballroom. I’m running out of time before my husband comes out looking for me. “It isn’t like that. Listen, can we please just talk? I’ll find you on Monday, and—”
“No.” Hunter’s answer is resolute, shattering my heart and letting the pieces fall at his feet.
I watch as he erects walls around himself, putting a barrier between us so I can’t hurt him anymore.
“I thought you were the woman I’d spend the rest of my life with.
I thought maybe you’d been hurt in the past, and that’s why you were so careful with your heart.
” His lip curls in disgust as he drags his gaze down my body.
“Never would I have thought you were just a lonely wife who puts up with her husband cheating on her.”
“Hunter…” His image grows blurry as my tears fall. If only he’d let me explain.
Yes, I’m lonely. Yes, I put up with Nathaniel’s affairs.
But every second I’ve spent with Hunter has been real. And I want it to last forever.
“Goodbye, Bunny. Or should I say… Mrs. Jones.”
He turns to leave, and I nearly double over in despair. Guilt and shame rack my body as I flee the opposite way down the foyer, tucking myself into a nook in the hall.
He just needs some time.
If I give him a few days, he’ll cool off. Then I’ll tell him I’m leaving my husband, and once the dust settles, we can try for real.
By the time my tears have stopped and I get my breathing under control, it’s been much longer than the five minutes Nathaniel gave me to clean myself up. And if anything, I’m sure my face looks like more of a disaster now.
My husband sees me coming down the hall and quickens his pace. I remain silent as he grabs my arm and pulls me into him, dragging me along until we reach the nook where I’d been hiding. Hauling me into it, Nathaniel pushes me against the wall roughly.
“What the fuck are you thinking?” he snaps. “Did you tell him to show up here tonight?”
“No!”
Fury radiates off him in waves, but we’re in public, so I’m sure he’ll save his worst for when we get home. As it is, his fingers dig into my arms, nails threatening to pierce my skin.
“Are you fucking him?” Leaning down, he presses his forehead to mine, forcing my head against the wall. “Huh? Little Rabbit?”
“You’re hurting me.” I squirm, trying to get away. For a second, I think about screaming. “Nathaniel, stop it!”
Suddenly, his hand is around my throat. He doesn’t squeeze—wouldn’t dare leave marks where anyone could see—but his palm crushes my trachea. Spittle flies from his mouth, dotting my cheek as he grinds out, “Are. You. Fucking. Him?”
It’s time I find my backbone. I’m tired of being his punching bag. I start to squirm harder, putting more effort into getting away.
“What if I am? You fuck anything in a skirt when you’re out of the house, so what’s the problem, dear husband?
Don’t like the possibility of me taking another dick?
The thought isn’t so nice, is it? The possibility that I might like his hands on me more.
That I might prefer the way he kisses me. Or the way he fucks.”
I laugh in his face.
He backhands me. It’s not light, either. My head whips back from the force, a sharp sting splitting my skin, spidering out as the flesh over my cheekbone parts beneath his wedding band. Stars fill my vision, the edges darken, my head swims.
“You stupid bitch. Goddammit. Now look what you made me do,” Nathaniel mutters. “Your face is ruined now.” He barks a dry laugh before hauling me into his arms. I’m vaguely aware he’s bringing me somewhere, but the darkness keeps dragging me under, and I’m inclined to follow it.
The last thing I hear before I pass out is my husband murmuring, “No one will want to look at you now. You can kiss your pretty-boy goodbye.”
“You said she fell?” A skeptical voice rouses me.
Bright white floods my eyes, and I wince, holding up a hand to block it. “Why are we at the beach?”
Nathaniel’s chuckle fills the room. “We’re at the hospital, sweetheart. Do you remember falling at the gala? You hit your head pretty hard on the corner of a table.”
I did?
The light dims, and a soothing tenor asks, “Mrs. Jones, do you remember what happened?”
I start to shake my head, but the movement creates a wave of nausea. My stomach clenches and I reach for my zipper. “Get me out of this thing. I’m going to throw up.”
Soft fingers ease the fastening. “There, there, honey. I’ll get you some ice chips.”
I’m guessing she’s the nurse when the first voice repeats his earlier question after the door opens and closes.
“Look, how much longer is this going to take? I’d like to get my wife home to rest. She’s clumsy.
She tripped and fell, and if you’d like, I can give you the numbers of my work associates.
They’ll tell you what happened.” My husband sounds irritated, and I hold my dress to my chest as I try to sit up.
“I’m fine.” Though the pain screams otherwise. My face hurts like a bitch.
“Why don’t you just rest a while, Mrs. Jones. We’ll have someone here to stitch up your face in a moment. Unfortunately, it’s going to leave a scar.”
“Great, can you get me a referral for a plastic surgeon?” Nathaniel gripes.
A harsh exhale makes the doctor’s mustache twitch.
He narrows his eyes at my husband before softening his gaze on me.
Flashes of what happened spring to life as I touch the soft bandage covering my cheek.
He steps closer, lowering his voice even though Nathaniel will hear anything in a room this small.
His presence is comforting—warm blue eyes crinkling as he tries to communicate something silently. Just as he parts his lips to speak, the door opens and the nurse returns.
“Here you go, honey. Let’s get you and that little one hydrated.”
My world halts. My heart stops. Air refuses me. Everything sharpens to a pinpoint as my gaze meets Nathaniel’s nefarious grin across the room.
“What?” I breathe.
The doctor nods, confirming I didn’t mishear—confirming my worst nightmare. He offers a grim smile. “We ran some tests while you were asleep per your husband’s request. It looks like you’re about fourteen weeks along.”
“Along?” The alarm in my voice reverberates through the room.
This can’t be happening. I look back at Nathaniel, who raises his brows and tilts his head, daring me to make a scene.
“Surprise, sweetheart,” he croons, pushing off the wall to take the ice chips from the nurse. “We’re having a baby.”