Choosing Cassidy (The Soundtrack #1)

Chapter 1

Stay.

Stay.

It had become the heartbeat of our relationship. The painful mantra under every goodbye.

The whisper behind every closed door.

The agony that ripped through me and stayed when he picked up the phone, like a ghost still living in my ribcage.

The way my heart hurt and healed every time he came.

Every time he left.

Every time he chose not to stay.

I should be happy right now.

He’s here.

With me.

But all I can do is listen to his breaths, slow, measured, heavy, like a man already halfway somewhere else.

Watch the time change in blue digits on the nightstand.

Wait for the text or the call to come.

We used to be so good. He used to make me so happy.

Until I found out.

About her.

About them.

Now I hurt all the time.

Now I lie here and wait.

For the text.

For him to sigh and say… “I have to go, baby.”

For the shame and the guilt to hit because of what he made me.

The thing I never imagined ever becoming.

He doesn’t even hide it anymore, not now that I know.

I didn’t know at first.

I didn’t.

And I clung to that for so long, like it was my salvation, my alibi, my paper-thin excuse.

But then I found out.

I found out.

I thought he was cheating on me.

Wasn’t that a fucking joke?

I was so wrong.

I pushed him away. But he pulled me back in.

And he finally stayed.

Said he was choosing me.

But he didn’t.

Hadn’t.

And no matter how I looked at it, spun it, wrapped it around my head… pulled it from my heart so I could see clearly, there was one brutal truth.

He made me this.

The other woman.

The mistress.

The homewrecker.

He made me this ugly thing.

And now I don’t even recognize myself anymore.

So I lie here and hope, wishing it not to be true.

For him to choose me.

For me to be his wife.

For me to have the happily ever after and not be the villain in her story.

I hear the sound… that fucking sound.

I suck in a breath and hold back the tears.

He hates it when I cry.

Hates it when I make a big deal about him leaving.

Hates it when I push… because then he has to pull.

Hates when I make it hard for him.

And I am so fucking desperate for any crumb he’ll throw my way.

So I wait for it… I know it’s coming.

He grabs his phone and sighs.

Sits up and runs his hands through his hair that I had my fingers tangled in only two hours ago, the smell of him still on my palms.

He stands and gets dressed, keeping his back to me.

So he doesn’t have to see what this does.

How this breaks me every time.

Tonight, I am having a hard time keeping the tears away, so I roll over and give him my back, pressing my face into the pillow like I can muffle my own heart.

I hear his belt.

Feel the bed shift as he sits to put on his socks.

I try to silently wipe the tears away because this is when he needs me to be okay with him going home to her.

But tonight I feel vulnerable and lonely, even though he hasn’t left yet.

I feel the heat of his hand on my hip.

“Cassidy, I have to go.”

I can’t speak, so I just nod and hope he sees it with the crack of moonlight slicing the room.

“Baby, I know you are awake. Don’t make this hard on me. You know how much I hate leaving you.”

That does it… something inside me snaps.

This is hard on him?

I push up and stumble out of bed, wearing one of the outfits he bought me. A white silk slip that barely covers my ass.

He says it makes me look like his angel.

But I don’t feel like an angel right now.

I feel horrible.

I stare at him. God, he’s beautiful.

He’s older than me by sixteen years.

I was so surprised when he approached me. So surprised that he wanted me.

I know I am beautiful, and I know the attention I get.

But he somehow seemed larger than life.

His brown eyes somehow seem golden, his skin warm and always tanned, his brown hair that is just long enough for me to grab onto, speckled just enough with silver… but always perfectly styled.

He’s perfection, and I couldn’t believe he wanted to be mine.

Until I found out he wasn’t.

“Stay,” I breathe out.

He gives me a look that I fucking hate, one with pity.

One that says we’ve been through this, don’t be difficult.

“Cass…”

I don’t let him get out the excuse. “Stay, Andrew, choose me like you said you would six months ago.”

He gets up from the bed and moves closer. I step back and hold a hand out.

I know… if he gets his hands on me, I’ll cave.

I will give in and give up a little bit more of myself.

He sighs again, “Baby, I can’t not yet… You know this.”

I shake my head as the tears fall faster now. “You said you were leaving, that I just needed to give you time. To be patient with you while you figure a way out of your marriage.”

He takes a step forward, and I take one back.

“Cass, I don’t have time for this right now. Victoria messaged I need to get home. I can only say I worked so late.”

I want to scream and yell.

Because if he did what he said he would, he wouldn’t have to lie and sneak around.

He would leave her and stay with me.

The voice that has been a whisper is now starting to yell.

He’s never going to leave her.

You are wrecking their marriage.

I fucking hate that I know her name, that I know that I am the other woman.

Part of me wants to go back, back to before I knew.

Before, he looked so relieved that I found out, and he didn’t have to hide it from me anymore.

Phew, one less woman to lie to.

“It’s been a year, Andrew.”

He looks confused, so I go on. “Today… tonight… It’s been a year, you and me.”

He looks guilty and worried… no… the look disappears, and he runs his hand down his face.

“A year, Andrew… and six months since you told me you were leaving her. Since I found out that I am your dirty secret.” I choke on the words, but he needs to hear them. Hear me.

He shakes his head and moves for me. I try to step back and get out of his reach, but my back is to the wall.

He wraps his muscular arms around me and pulls me close. “Please don’t call yourself that, baby, you know I hate it. You know that’s not how I see you.”

I want to bury my face in his chest and ground myself in the smell of his cologne.

I want to give in and let him soothe this ache in my heart that won’t go away.

I want…

The shrill sound of her ring tone brings the jagged edges of our reality into focus, and I push him away, and he lets me.

Because fighting with me… for me… would take too much time.

And he needs to get home to her.

He stares at me, and I don’t know what’s going on in his head. I have never been able to get a read on him. Not like he can read me.

He says my baby blue eyes are too expressive.

He hasn’t moved, and his phone is still ringing in his pocket.

I know what he wants.

He wants me to soothe him.

Tell him it’s ok.

Tell him that I will wait.

I will be patient.

That I will cling to the scraps I get from him.

But I can’t.

Not tonight.

“Go,” I say with fresh tears falling down my cheeks, trailing down my chest and staining the angelic white silk slip.

“Cass…” He pleads.

“No, Andrew… GO. You want to go… GO. I am…” God, what am I? I don’t know anymore, but something inside me is broken, and it hurts, and I don’t want to feel like this anymore.

“I don’t want to go, baby, you know that. I have to go.”

I scoff, and he dares to look like the hurt party in all of this.

“I am tired of asking for something that will never happen, Andrew. I can't keep doing this. So, go.”

He looks wounded, hurt. “What are you saying, Cassidy? You know I love you, that I can’t just…”

Her ringtone cuts him off.

And we are back to this standstill.

Him wanting permission to leave, and me wanting him to choose to stay.

To choose me.

He wants me to make this easy for him, and I just can’t anymore.

“Go.” I choke out, and my bottom lip starts to tremble. I can’t break completely, not yet, not with him still here. So I bite into my bottom lip and focus on the pain I’ve caused.

“Cass, please… I can’t… FUCK!” He roars his frustration.

But he doesn’t get it, doesn’t understand the pain I have been in.

I can feel myself choking on the sob, waiting to break free.

I don’t say anything else, I turn and go to my bathroom.

I lock the door and keep one hand on the door handle, and the other covers my mouth. Like I can hold in all the agony, wanting to rip out of me.

I don’t hear anything for a minute.

And that fucking minute gives me a sliver of hope.

But then…

His phone rings… again.

Then I hear him gathering his things.

I hear the door open and shut.

I hear the lock engage.

And that… that is when I let go.

I fall like the ground below me has been pulled away.

And I let everything out.

I curl into a ball on the cold tiles and cry.

I cry for the dream I once had that he would choose me.

And I cry for the girl who never in a million years would have become this… the other woman.