Chapter 7
Despite my heart pounding in my chest, I carried on flitting from one guest to another, pretending to be unaware of Alexander. I did, however, feel his eyes on me. The hairs on my neck bristled at the intrusion.
Mom approached my side. “I’ve put some things in the oven—can you watch them for me? I need to chat with Molly about something.”
“Sure, Mom.”
She pranced off through the crowd, making a point of saying hello to everyone she passed. I excused myself from Mom and Dad’s long-time friends, Robert and Mary, and made my way into the kitchen.
A group of people erupted into laughter, and as I looked through the kitchen window to the backyard, I saw Tyler in among them doing a weird dance. It looked like his joy at being the center of attention hadn’t changed.
I turned, and as I bent over to peer in through the oven door, I felt a presence in the room that made my skin crawl. Without even looking, I knew it was him.
Here we go.The moment four years in the making had arrived.
I stood, flicked my hair over my shoulder, and turned to him. The counter between us was a blessing. “Hello, Alexander.”
Just looking at him repulsed me. I found it hard to believe I’d once found him attractive. His eyebrows were too bushy, his jaw too large, and his complexion insipid.
“Hi, Jane. You look incredible.” He’d put on at least twenty pounds since I’d last seen him, and there was more than just a little salt and pepper in his dark hair.
His compliment was worthless to me, but following Henry’s rule, I acknowledged it with a nod. “Thanks.”
“It’s great to have you home.” He said it like I was here to stay.
“This isn’t my home anymore.” My heart thundered in my chest as I stared at the man who’d once captured it and then systematically shattered my heart into millions of pieces.
His eyes were a fraction wider than I remembered, showing whites that had a tinge of yellow.
He cleared his throat. “I heard what you did to Chelsea-Lea.”
“She deserved it.”
He swallowed loudly enough for me to hear. “I guess so.” His lip twitched.
“You two didn’t last long.”
He squeezed his eyes shut as if searching for the perfect response.
“Was she worth it?”
His eyes shot open, looked into mine for a second, and then, to my disgust, they fluttered to my cleavage.
I wanted to vomit as the silence fell upon us like a concrete blanket.
“I can’t believe how amazing you look.” He came around the counter, closing the space between us, and with each inch he drew closer, bile inched up my throat. His presence was a hideous dark shadow, and I fought the urge to run.
“I’m sorry, Jane.”
I flicked a wisp of hair out of my eyes. “For what exactly? Lying to me. Fucking dozens of women while we were engaged. Or breaking my heart?”
He reached with his right hand, and I braced for his touch, but he placed his palm on the counter at my side, splaying his fingers as if he needed it for support. “I’m sorry for everything. I’ve missed you.”
“Your words mean nothing to me.” My stomach twisted into angry knots, churning the acid that had remained dormant for a very long time.
His hand crept closer, seeking mine, his dark eyes pleading.
I clenched my fist, clamped my jaw, and rammed my knee into his groin as hard as I could.
Howling, he buckled over and fell to the kitchen floor in a fetal position, clutching his balls.
“You’re a worthless sack of shit. I hope you rot in hell, you bastard.” I stepped around him and ignored the dinging oven as I walked from the kitchen and out the back door.
It seemed like every single person in the backyard stared at me, and with each stride I made toward the wine glass I’d left on the table, I felt more in command of my own mind, and, more importantly, my soul.
Dad glanced my way before he raced inside, however Mom strode to me with her lips pulled into a straight line. “What did you do?” Her voice was vehement, loaded with shock and anger.
“Something I should’ve done years ago.”
Mom’s eyes grew wide. She clutched her chest, and a red flush raced up her neck.
A clap started at the back of the crowd, and I turned to see Aunty Ann beaming as she brought her hands together over and over.
My brother joined her, then raised his fingers to his mouth to release an ear-piercing whistle.
Another couple of people joined in, and soon, everybody seemed to be clapping and cheering.
Except, of course, my mother.
Out the corner of my eye, Alexander rose to his feet, and I turned to watch that piece of shit be escorted from the house by both Mom and Dad.
Tyler bounded onto the porch next to me. “Let’s get this party going.”
He dialed up the music volume, then picked me up and twirled me around. “I’m so proud of you, sis.”
Tears of relief stung my eyes as everything spun past in a kaleidoscope of color and movement.
The rest of the evening went by in a blur, but not all of it was pleasant.
I felt dreadful for creating a scene at my father’s party. Dad, however, was not as upset as my mother seemed to be.
Hours later, after everybody had left, we set about cleaning up, but Mom claimed she had a headache and vanished to her bedroom.
By the time I crawled into bed, I was emotionally and physically drained.