Chapter Twenty-Six #2
She lifts a shoulder. “I got on a red-eye because I needed to be here to make sure I made things right. I didn’t want you to pay the price for something that you shouldn’t be punished for.”
I start to ask what she means when Janel clears her throat to regain our attention. “Does this have to do with the media alert that came through on my phone last night?”
Media alert? I pat my pocket but realize I must have left my phone at my desk when I dropped my bag off when I got here.
Is it the one Thomas saw last night? I’d asked him about it, but he just kept saying he’d tell me everything today.
And, truthfully, I was okay with that. Because I was scared of the truth.
“Probably,” Emaly admits, smiling at my boss. She walks over and reaches her hand out for a shake. “I’m Emaly Moskins-Yokav. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Janel.”
Emaly turns to me and gestures toward the quiet blonde still standing by the door. When the other woman walks over, they link hands again.
“Winter,” Emaly says in a tone I’ve never quite heard before. It’s soft and warm like usual, but also full of…love. “This is Ronnie. My fiancée.”
My eyes widen into what I can only imagine are saucers as they shoot down to her hand, which has a beautiful gold ring and a green gem on it.
“That’s…” I blink slowly as I study the gorgeous, round gem. “It’s beautiful. I’m…”
“Speechless?” Emaly muses.
Her fiancée, Ronnie, swats at her. “You just dropped a massive bombshell on the poor girl. Let her soak it in.”
Once again, Janel cuts in, “While I offer my full congratulations on this very spontaneous news, I think there needs to be some explanation as to why this is coming out now. No pun intended, of course.”
Emaly snorts. “I like you,” she tells my boss with a grin. “And I think the reason is perfectly clear.” Her eyes turn to me. “Thomas fell in love.”
Everything in me stills, and my heart drums wildly in my chest. “W-what?”
With her free hand, she squeezes my wrist gently.
“My husband has sacrificed so much for me, Winter. He’s let his reputation take a nosedive time and time again because of me and what I’ve been keeping from my family.
But it’s not fair to him, and he’d never agree to let me put myself out there with the truth for people to pick apart and judge.
I realized something though. I don’t care what they think.
I don’t care what my father thinks, or my mother, or my brother.
The only person whose opinion affects me is Ronnie’s, and hiding her was hurting her, and lying was hurting Thomas.
I refuse to keep allowing that to happen when I have the power to stop it and change the narrative. ”
There is so much unfolding right now that it hurts my brain.
“This would have certainly changed things months ago when we first inquired about the case,” Janel pipes up, still sitting behind her desk and watching us closely.
Emaly nods, almost sadly. “It would have, and I suggested telling the truth when Thomas was first being put through the wringer after getting caught with his ex from Seattle. But he didn’t want that, and I let him convince me to keep quiet.
It’s time, though. It’s time to end this so that everybody can move on. He deserves to be happy.”
Emaly’s eyes are on me as she delivers that last sentence.
“And I saw it in your eyes the first day I met you, Winter. I saw the hurt and the loneliness even before you ever admitted it. It’s the same thing I see in Thomas.
I can’t offer him the kind of love he needs, but you can.
Because you deserve it too. You two are so alike, and that means you have the chance at filling in the holes left in each other’s hearts. ”
The room is quiet as I swallow and take a deep breath.
“I’m sorry for lying,” she tells me. “But I’m not sorry for being one of the reasons you were able to meet Thomas. In a weird way, I’m glad. He needs someone like you.”
Someone like me?
She can see the question in my eyes. “He needs somebody who will challenge him.”
Janel laughs lightly. “From what I’ve witnessed, I have no doubt she’s capable of that. I knew the second that boy’s eyes lit up during our first meeting that you had no clue what was coming.”
I turn to her with my mouth ajar.
All she does is wink at me.
*
I’m still trying to wrap my head around the events of this morning when Farrah appears at my desk looking as cross as usual. Honestly, I’m surprised she didn’t come harass me sooner. Being in other people’s business is one of her favorite pastimes.
“What, Farrah?” I ask tiredly, rubbing my eyes. My work phone and cell have both been going off nonstop all day, and the only person I’ve willingly spoken to is Kourtney because I know she’d come here if I didn’t.
She sits on the edge of my desk and puts her hands in her lap. “How does it feel to be the favorite? If any of us pulled the shit you did, we’d be gone quicker than you can blink.”
I knew this was coming. “Can we not do this right now?”
“Oh, are you busy?” she asks, studying my blank computer screen. “You’ve been working on one case, and I’m sure it’s not a hard one considering you’re fucking the only client you have. That’s bound to get you some deadline extensions.”
I swipe my palms down my face and take a deep breath.
In my wildest fantasies, where I have no consequences for any of my actions, I kick her really hard.
Maybe even borrow one of her pointy heels to do it.
But that’s bound to get me a first-class ticket to the unemployment line, so I bury that temptation deep, deep down.
“What? Cat got your tongue?” she muses, pulling out her phone and scrolling through something. She laughs, but it’s dry. Then she shows me an image of me cradling Oreo at the food bank. “This cat, perhaps? Looking a little too cozy, Winter.”
I roll my eyes. “That was at a work event. He brought his cat. You would have done the same thing.”
All she says is, “I hate cats.”
Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me. I’m sure the second she tried reaching out to Oreo, the feline would hiss and bat her hand away just like she did with Kayleigh.
My shoulders slump. Why do I miss Oreo right now? I could use some warm cuddles and rumbling purrs.
“I don’t know what sob story you told to Janel to let her keep you, but it’s not going to work on the rest of us. Your woe-is-me tale doesn’t make you any more important than the rest of us. You aren’t owed opportunities because you were orphaned as a kid.”
I pale at the harsh words spoken to me. “How did you…?” I stop myself, already knowing the answer.
When I pick up my phone, I scroll through all the alerts and images being sent to me. Including the article deep-diving into the life of Thomas Moskins’ new lover.
I’d gag if I had the energy, but I don’t.
My shoulders slump as I scan the article, wincing when I see the timeline some amateur reporter put together. Some of it is painfully accurate, while other pieces are disgustingly wrong. And the worst part of it all? They name my sister.
I slam my phone down onto my desk. “Can you please go? I’m sure you’ve said everything you want to now.”
“Hardly,” Farrah spits. “In fact—”
“Go,” a man says.
My spine tingles at the familiarity of those words spoken so firmly that I can’t help but pick my head up. I have déjà vu, picturing Cody standing where Farrah is while Thomas stands there stick-straight and glaring at my coworker.
And behind him is Ashton.
“Shocking. Your protector has arrived,” Farrah murmurs, standing up and flattening out the wrinkles from her pencil skirt. She gives Thomas a once-over. “It’s a shame, honestly. You’re wasting so much time on someone who doesn’t know the difference between Prada and Walmart.”
Ashton’s hand wraps around Thomas’s arm to stop him from stepping toward the mean girl, who has never really liked me that much. At least she was better at hiding it before.
“It’s best if you walk away,” Ashton suggests dryly. “For your sake.”
Farrah’s eyebrows lift. “Is that a threat?”
“No.” That comes from Thomas. “It’s a promise.”
She scoffs as she starts walking out of my cubicle, purposefully brushing against Thomas’s side in the process. “I guess all men have a savior complex. A real rags-to-riches story.”
Thomas leans down to her and, through gritted teeth, says, “I’m no Prince Charming.”
Farrah snorts. “That much is obvious.”
She flicks her hair over her shoulder and walks away, leaving Thomas’s nostrils flaring with anger.
“She isn’t worth it,” I tell him, almost defeated by the truth.
But she isn’t. Her nasty words aren’t unjustified, even if they’re not entirely accurate.
She’ll never know that I tried keeping my past on lockdown solely so it didn’t afford me a single thing.
I don’t want pity or sympathy to make people give me things that I don’t earn.
I have every intention of working for it.
And if I make mistakes, to pay for them.
“Now isn’t a good time,” I say, not looking at either of the men who linger mere feet away.
“Now is the perfect time,” Thomas says. “I think we need to talk.”
Slowly, I turn my chair toward him. “About what? About your wife? About her fiancée? About the media somehow knowing every little thing there is to know about me and publishing things I’d never wish on my worst enemies?”
My words catch, and I have to stop talking for a moment to gather myself.
I count to three and try to ease my shoulders from the stiff, guarded squares they are.
“There have been so many secrets, Thomas. I’ve always known you were holding back, and I didn’t press.
Because then I’d have to offer my own demons in trade, and I wasn’t ready.
Not fully. I offered you parts of me that—” Once again, my words get crammed in my throat, and I hate it.
I hate how shaky they are and how weak I sound.
“That I haven’t given to anybody before.
And now the world is divulging details about me for everybody to pick apart. ”
Thomas walks over and kneels in front of me. “I never wanted that. I’ve only ever wanted you to tell me those secrets, and now you know the biggest one of all.”
Emaly.
“I want to tell you everything,” he says. “I’d prefer to do it elsewhere, if that’s all right with you. Ashton is going to speak to Janel about the next steps, but there’s a lot that’s going to happen now that Emaly went to the press. You can ask me whatever you want, and I’ll be honest.”
I stare at him for a very long time. So long that Ashton clears his throat and excuses himself, probably to go to Janel’s office.
Then I sit back in my chair, cock my head, and ask the one thing that comes to mind. “Was it all a lie?”
There are so many ways he can answer.
So many lies he can spew.
But his eyes soften, and vulnerability takes over his face as his lips twitch upward into a sad smile. “No,” he says quietly. “Not all of it.”
He could elaborate on which parts, but he doesn’t need to. His face says it all. His need for me to hear him out. The way he stayed with me last night without pressing for a conversation.
Thomas Moskins doesn’t just love his wife.
He loves me too.
I stand up, gather my bag and jacket, then deposit my phone into my pocket without checking it as it rings. At this point, I don’t care who’s on the other end, because the person I need to speak to most is right in front of me.
“Then let’s go.”