44. Rosenna
Chapter forty-four
Rosenna
A few days or so passed, and I found myself back inside my office. The exhibit had come to a close. The showrooms were cleared of the sold art and changed to regular displays. It was bittersweet seeing everything come down after the week we’d all been through, but nonetheless, I was glad it was over.
While I was busy piling together the cash we accumulated to write a check out to my loan shark, Vincent was working tirelessly with Beckam to find a way to take down Gavin.
I was eager to slam the check on Brent’s desk to be finished with him, but Beckham stopped me, letting me know it could eventually be used against me in court if Gavin was in debt and I was easily writing million-dollar checks to pay off mine.
Unfortunately, I trusted our relationship too much to sign a prenuptial agreement in contrast to his reasoning, which had less to do with mistrust in our marriage lasting and more to do with my ability to bring him in more liquid cash and assets. Thinking about our marriage, about the lies, the betrayal, I felt used.
It was a terrible feeling as I realized I had devoted everything to this man. Everything towards what I built and what we could build together… all for him to have been using everything of mine behind my back, berating and belittling me while he did.
I felt so disgusted with myself for letting it even get this far. From sleeping in the same bed with him to kissing him after he slept with another woman the night before. God, it literally made me sick to my stomach.
Thankfully, Beckham was by my side. He knew I was getting lost in my self-destructing thoughts, and like a better man than my so-called husband could ever be, his only goal was to keep me grounded, keep me sane, and keep me focused on fixing my problems—not succumbing to their weight on my shoulders.
Crossing my leg over the other as I leaned back in my chair, I sighed and gazed at the numbers on the screen. We made well over our target goal, and I was still in disbelief days later.
Like a lifeline, my office door swung open, and Kira waltzed in with two coffees. She handed me my cup and leaned against my desk, looking at the numbers on the screen as well.
“How does it feel to no longer be a millionaire in the negative direction?”
“Feels great, honestly. Although I could do without the cheating husband, but that’s neither here nor there.”
“Who knew Gav would turn out to be worse than the dick we already knew him to be...?”
I could only shrug as I glanced over the recent articles published on my screen about the already famous art exhibit of the year. This still felt too good to be true .
Part of me was afraid I’d wake up from this dream, reliving the nightmare that was my life before Beckham, before meeting Vincent, before realizing I was too good for my husband—before I began to spiral again, not like I wasn’t already in the process given all the stress I’d been under.
“When are you going to serve him the divorce papers?” Kira asked, her voice cutting through the silence.
I sighed. “I have my attorney working with Vincent’s lawyers and legal team to draft the papers as we speak. Going against Gavin and his lawyer buddies is going to be a complete shitshow. Even if it’s small, there’s a possibility he could take everything from me. And I would have to start from scratch. I can only hope the evidence we have against him is enough to fight him in court.”
“I would try to shake Brent down to get him to spill the beans about everything he knows to incriminate the both of them, but he’s Gavin’s little bitch. He wouldn’t say anything.”
“He had to have known all of this was going on. If he didn’t, he was a damn good liar telling me I could always count on him.”
I thought back to how he constantly reminded me that I would need him, that he would be there for me. Turns out he was more of a backstabber than I could have ever known.
“The both of them would lose their shit if they knew how much Beckham’s exhibits made. Dammit, I just want to shove it in Gavin’s face,” Kira seethed.
I smiled. “Trust me, Kira... I know.”
We chatted it up for a bit more before she headed back to her office. Soon enough, it was time to close up for the night, and I waved Kira goodbye through the glass door of her office before making my way out of the gallery.
Going over to my car, I went over to the passenger seat to put away my belongings before I heard footsteps approaching. Looking over my shoulder, I froze in place as I made eye contact with a woman watching me silently.
However, it wasn’t just a woman. It was Gavin’s more recent mistress: the same woman in the photos and the same woman Beckham had latched onto his arm months ago at Vincent’s billionaire brunch, which made my jealousy soar.
“Rosenna... It’s good to see you.” She smiled.
I nodded as I closed my car door. “Jessica, hi.”
My throat felt like closing up. I had no reason to feel threatened by this woman, but with all that I’d experienced, coming face-to-face with her wasn’t exactly on my agenda.
“I hope now is not a bad time,” she began.
I shook my head. “No, just finished up for the day.”
She nodded. “Congratulations, by the way, on the exhibit. I hear it was a huge success. The press is eating it up as we speak.”
I nodded with a slight grin as an uncomfortable silence ensued. “Thank you.”
She said nothing else, and I rubbed my lips together. “Well, I have to get going. It was nice to see you,” I lied through my teeth as I made my way to my car door.
“He’ll move on, you know.”
Turning toward her, I furrowed my eyebrows as she gave a shrug. “When he ultimately finds a new obsession, a new woman to pine after, he’ll move on from you.”
“I have no clue what you’re even talking about,” I responded, attempting to calm my growing anger.
“I’m telling you, you’re not special, Rosenna. No woman is going to change Beckham, and you ruined your marriage in denial of that fact.”
“Are you sure that you didn’t ruin my marriage thinking you were special enough to be with my husband?”
“Only because his wife wasn’t tending to his needs,” she snapped back.
I narrowed my eyes at her as I stepped closer to her. “I’m sorry?”
“You didn’t play your role as a loving wife.”
“And I’m sure you’re proud of your role as the other woman and the homewrecker, right?” I retorted.
Jessica looked me up and down, a look of disgust passing in her eyes.
It was bold of her to come up to me like this, even bolder of me to put the assumption out there that I knew of her affair with Gavin.
“I gave your husband what he needed when you were too wrapped up in your own world to notice. He wants a woman who understands him—”
I cut her off. “Gavin doesn’t want someone to understand him. He wants someone he can control and who he can manipulate. My only regret in all of this was not being able to notice that fact sooner.”
“So you don’t regret ruining all that you’ve built for a man who will leave when his obsession dies out then?”
I let out a scoff. “No. I don’t regret it. I’m not perfect. Beckham isn’t perfect, and Gavin sure as hell isn’t. But I’d rather take a chance on something real , something flawed, than stay trapped in a life built on lies and control. If my fucked-up marriage is the kind of relationship you’re happy to have broken apart, then by all means, let me celebrate with you, because I am fed up with all of this. Come to think of it, you actually did me a huge favor by showing me that the man I was with never loved me to begin with.”
Leaving her on the sidewalk, speechless, I walked over to the driver’s side of my car and got in, slamming my door.
Jessica knocked on the window.
I contemplated whether or not I would accept going to jail for running her over, but I decided against it as I rolled the window down reluctantly.
“All men are the same. Gavin moved on. And when Beckham is done with you, he’ll move on to.”
Ignoring her words, I reversed before pulling off, ignoring her smile of triumph.
The bathwater had gotten cold. I hadn’t even noticed how long I’d been sitting there, staring at the wall as I was lost in my thoughts.
Stepping out of the tub, I wrapped the towel around my body as I blew out my stress relief candle. Running my hands down my face as I stared into the mirror, I breathed in deeply, trying to calm my thoughts as Jessica’s words repeated in my mind.
He’ll move on, you know.
You’re not special.
All men are the same.
He’ll move on, you know.
He’ll move on.
He’ll move on.
He’ll move on.
I ’ m not capable of love.
Shaking my head, I stepped out of the bathroom as I tried to fight my tears. She was just trying to get in my head, trying to mess with my mind.
Beckham got into your head, too, and look where you ended up.
Right in his palm. It’s like it was only yesterday I was forcing myself to resist him. It seemed pitiful trying to deny I loved the man.
But my self-destructing thoughts wouldn’t give me a rest now, no matter how much I tried to relax my mind.
Getting dressed in one of Beckham’s button-up shirts for bed, I ran my fingers through my hair, stressed as I descended the steps. His studio was silent for the most part as I made myself a cup of tea. I anxiously looked over at the clock to see it nearing midnight as he was nowhere in sight. He was still at his father’s office to help me out of this mess, and yet here I was, second-guessing what he felt for me. All because of a homewrecker feeding me lies.
With how I’m acting, part of me wonders if he’s still the one who’s obsessed or if we’ve switched roles.
Sitting on the couch, I wiped my eyes softly, letting out something in between a cry and a laugh.
What was I even doing here? What was I even doing in general? All I seemed to do was create more problems for everyone. My loans, my marriage, my messed-up relationship with my parents, my inability to make the right decisions—it all felt like a cycle I couldn’t break. And even when things were looking up, I didn’t want to get my hopes up, knowing this could just be another one of my mistakes.
Part of me knew I was being crazy, letting my thoughts consume me. The other part began to reason with them.
Everything I built with Gavin was over. It all meant nothing. And now? Now, I established a relationship with the very man who gave me the strength to end it all.
But who’s to say he won’t leave me or find another woman like Gavin did?
He could move on... but would I? Would I ever get over a man like him? A man who learned to love a woman who didn’t deserve love? A man who worshipped the ground I walked on despite me being a mess under the surface? Despite my pushing him away time and time again? Despite all the baggage I came with. Despite my insecurities—
I looked up to see Beckham standing in front of me, crouching down to my height. His hands were on my face as he wiped away my tears. I hadn’t even noticed him come in.
“You’re home,” I whispered.
He stroked my cheek as he gazed down at me. “Flower.”
I gave him a sad smile as I shook my head. “I’m fine, just a long day.”
He took a seat beside me. “I’m sure that’s the reason you’re crying alone in the living room.”
My lips pulled into a grin as he waited for me to speak expectantly. Shrugging, I muttered, “It’s nothing—”
He cut me off. “Rosenna, tell me what’s bothering you.”
Looking away, I tried to hide my fallen tears, but Beckham’s finger turned my chin back to face him. Shuddering a breath as I looked into his gorgeous eyes, I breathed out softly.
“I’m spiraling again,” I whispered.
“Tell me something I don’t know, Flower.”
Rolling my eyes at him, annoyed, I played with the edge of his shirt on me.
“Ran into Jessica today,” I began. “She did me the favor of reminding me how bad of a wife I was to Gavin. I did us a bit of a disservice by calling her a homewrecking whore, but if the shoe fits ...” I muttered, exaggerating my words out of anger and spite even though we were in the same boat.
“She let me know you would move on from me when you ultimately lose passion for your ’obsession’ over me. And two glasses of wine, four texts from my attorney, and one hour-long bath later... here I am, wallowing in self-pity and envisioning what it will be like when I’m ultimately alone.”
I shrugged.
“Are you done?” Beckham asked after a moment.
I sighed. “No. You’re welcome to join my pity party if you choose to.”
He ignored me as he grabbed my hand, pulling me to straddle his legs. Resting my hands on his chest, he placed a small kiss on my neck.
“What did I say to you when you last spiraled before our fight?” he asked.
“That I deserved to be loved, that I’m worth loving... same old stuff,” I mumbled with slight sarcasm.
Beckham ran his hands up and down my waist comfortingly, his eyes twinkling with warmth despite my words. “And do you remember how I meant every word of that?”
“Of course I do,” I whispered.
“So, will you believe me when I say Jessica is lying to push you away from me and fulfill Gavin’s agenda to keep you vulnerable?”
“I know...”
He lifted my hand to his lips, placing soft kisses against my skin.
“For as much as you made me chase you, Flower... you’d be lucky if you could get away from me. As tempting as it is to sit back and watch your little pity party, I can’t. I won’t. I need to be there with you,” he muttered.
I rolled my eyes again as I leaned down and placed a small kiss on his lips.
Leaning my head against his, I sighed as he continued to caress my skin. “You sure you want to wallow in my tears with me? There’s been a lot of them these days.”
“You’re also going through a divorce after finding out you’ve been cheated on, manipulated, and used. Sue me, but I think your tears are justified.”
I nestled closer to him, letting his warmth comfort me as his arms pulled my body impossibly closer to him. Feeling his soft kisses against my head, again, my mind felt at peace in contrast to the shitstorm that was brewing only a few minutes ago.
Soon enough, I would get over myself, serve Gavin the divorce papers, face him in court, send Brent away, stand up to my father, and maybe kick Jessica’s ass in the process—but for now, I was going to enjoy the sweet nothings being whispered into my ear as I was caressed by the man that plagued my dreams.
“My little flower...” he whispered in my ear, and I looked up. His eyes already hooded with possessiveness and hunger as he gazed down at me.
God, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the way he looks at me.
“Yours,” I replied softly before accepting his kiss on my lips as he groped my ass. Running my hands up and down his shirt, I was eager to let him show me how much he loved me when my phone chimed on the coffee table, cutting our moment.
Pulling away, Beckham and I turned to look at the phone to see the name of a contact that immediately had his jaw clenching.
Picking up the phone, I opened it beside him and sighed internally as I read the message.
Brent
Rosenna, we need to talk.