CHAPTER FOURTEEN
COURTNEY
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It helps to pretend I still hate him.
In truth, I’m not sure I ever hated Zander Sterling, but during those days when he was rude and insulting, it was much easier to ignore how attracted I was to him.
Now, each time we’re in the same room, it’s impossible to ignore our chemistry. In his custom-made suits, his huge muscular frame towers over me.
Yesterday, when I walked into Zander’s office, he had a pair of reading glasses on, and I swear my panties were soaked in three seconds. There is something wrong with me. I’ve never felt this kind of attraction before.
The worst is when he rolls up his sleeves, exposing strong, ripped forearms. My God!
I’ve noticed his heavy silver timepiece several times. Having researched them while looking to buy Adam one, the Rolex Day-Date, which is no longer available, would’ve cost a quarter of a million dollars.
Buying gifts for Adam was always strange, as I saw it as his money, not our money. The watch I landed on was worth much less than Zander’s, but it was still life-changing money.
He never would have let me gift money to my parents, but I did occasionally feel obligated. Soon, I will have the choice, and I guess they know it.
My father texted me to say that Mom is sick. That she has cancer and needs treatment. I don’t know whether to believe him. Junkies lie. It’s what they do.
I laid awake all night wondering how I deal with the news.
I rang Kylie.
“He’s lying,” she replied immediately.
“That’s what I thought, but what if he’s not?” I chewed the tip of my nail as I stared out across Central Park. “What if I’m standing in my golden tower—his words, not mine—and Mom is terminally ill? They kept me alive. I owe them that, at least.”
I heard her groan.
“That’s what parents should do. You don’t owe them.”
I felt like I did.
“Also,” she continues. “It’s illegal to kill your kid. So, there’s that.”
I chuckled despite myself.
“I know. What would you do?”
Kylie was quiet for a moment, then gave me some wise advice that I promised to act on.
“Find out for yourself. Ask for proof. Ring the doctor. Get them to tell you what information you need to help you heal. They won’t give you patient information, but if you corner them with funding options, they’ll have to refuse.”
Smart woman.
Because that’s what my father wants. Money. Not me. He never said, come home and see your mom, he said I need to help them.
Never in all the years have they said they miss me. That they wish they were part of my life. It’s been threats, accusations and judgments.
How ironic that’s what Adam is doing to me now.
I hate how they took that weak moment at the Spring Gala and turned it around. Those tears were for our unborn child.
Even Zander had compassion.
Sure, I wish he’d rip my blouse open and tear off my panties most days, but I’m aware it can’t happen.
Ever.
A girl can dream.
And use her new vibrator, imagining him doing it. Over and over and over.
“Babes, if you want me to go back to Arizona with you or come over while you get on a Zoom call with the doc, you just let me know.” Kylie added.
I had a feeling it was all a ploy to get money from me. Our divorce was constantly in the media, so they were probably imagining me suddenly having a lot of money.
I will.
Five billion if Zander negotiates fifty percent. It’s an enormous amount, and I have no idea what I will do with my life at that point.
One day at a time.
Navigating my parents was definitely one thing. Giving them money and never hearing from them again would hurt me deeply.
“Thanks,” I sighed, then another thought occurred before I ended the call with Kylie. “Hey, did you go home with that hottie, Dereck?”
“I don’t kiss and tell.”
“Yes, you do. Spill.” I laughed.
Kylie snorted. “No, he’s a player. I know they’re usually my type, but something stopped me.”
She’s had her share of very short-term boyfriends over the years. I’ve been envious at times, which sounds crazy, but I never got to be young and single after marrying so young. Then Kylie would share one of her walk of shame stories, and I’d cringe.
Adam was only the third man I ever slept with.
“What? Do you like-like him?” I asked curiously.
“No. I don’t know. I liked flirting and wanted to... maybe leave it at that,” Kylie shared.
“My girl is growing up.” I sighed dramatically.
“Very funny. Hey, can I ask you something delicate?”
That caught me by surprise.
“Sure,” I replied tentatively.
“I saw the crap online about you and Zander being involved. You didn’t really have a panic attack, did you? Because I’ve been a little pissed that he didn’t tell me. That you didn’t tell me.”
Shit, fuck.
“Kylie, I’m sorry. You should have said earlier.
” I closed my eyes, knowing I was partly going to lie to her.
“I was just upset. Zander was concerned and came into the bathroom where I was having a little cry.” All true.
“Despite Adam being a douchebag, I loved him. I thought we would be together for the rest of our lives, as you do when you say your vows.”
Actually, all of that was true, too.
“So why did you leave him?” Kylie asked.
I’ve never told her the truth. I don’t know what it is that makes me so ashamed of not being able to get pregnant. I didn’t want anyone to know about him being violent. So I’d kept it to myself.
Perhaps that was what I learned growing up in a bad neighborhood.
“Guess I just grew up.” I sighed.
She seemed to accept it and then surprised me with her next question. “Thank God. So, is there something going on between you and Zander?”
My chest tightened in panic.
“No!” I snapped. “That’s...he’s not allowed.”
“Not the question I asked, Courtney Blackmore. But I think you just answered it, anyway.”
Shit.
“There isn’t. He simply drove me home when I found my face lined from my tears. I’m sorry I left you on your own.”
Discreet change of subject.
“Pfft, don’t worry about me. Lexi and Emily were a blast, and while I didn’t bang Dereck, he proved to be an excellent dancer,” Kylie said, then added. “And kisser. Just one.”
Oh, interesting.
We wrapped up our call with me promising to ask my father for details about Mom’s doctor. I sent the request to Dad immediately, and to date, he hasn’t replied.
Surprise, surprise.
I don’t expect to hear from him at all, but we will see.
Suddenly my phone rings, and I almost drop it because Adam’s name is on the screen.
I glance around the empty room, wondering what to do. He’s allowed to call me, but I don’t know if talking to him is a good idea.
I answer in the hope that he wants to come to a fair agreement, and we can get this divorce finalized and move on. Despite the horrible claims he’s posted online.
God, I’m na?ve.
“Hello,” I say with as much warmth as I can muster.
“Court, we need to talk.” His voice is firm and cool.
“Okay.”
“Are you fucking that lawyer? Because if you a—”
“Adam, if you want to keep making these outlandish claims and be a bully, I’m hanging up,” I interrupt him.
He can’t control me anymore.
“You know he’s fucked every woman in this city. You’ll just be another hot cunt he uses, but this time his career is over. My attorney will make sure of it.”
I cringe.
Shaking my head, I shuffle to sit on the edge of my chair. “Nice, Adam. Really nice. Please don’t use that term while speaking to me.”
He’s always been crass, but never directly at me.
He snorts. “Listen to you. Not the poor girl from South Tucson anymore, are you?”
A knot forms in my stomach.
He knows everything about my life and where I came from. He’s my husband. He’d console me when they’d ring and tell me I didn’t deserve to be treated that way.
Where was that man now?
Once, two years into our marriage, Adam answered the phone, threatened my father and told him never to call again, or there would be consequences.
It worked.
Until news of our separation came out, I never heard from Mom and Dad again.
“Don’t do that. I never pretended to be anyone I wasn’t. I was honest with you from the start.” I say, rubbing my forehead as I stare at the carpet. “Can we do this civilly, please?”
“Tell me you aren’t fucking him. Or that asshole, the painter. Jesus, I can’t believe you posted those photos from Hawaii. You made yourself look like a slut. Made me look like an idiot.”
Maybe you shouldn’t have hit me and kicked me in the tummy while I was curled up on the ground.
I go quiet. I don’t have to explain myself. Everything I’ve done with other men took place after I left the marriage, and I was well within my rights to do so.
When he doesn’t speak again, waiting for my response, I say, “We’re separated Adam.”
I can almost hear his fury.
“So that’s a fucking yes. Jesus, Court. Can’t keep your legs closed. Well, I’m not surprised. The painter was poor, so now you are fucking your billionaire attorney. Wouldn’t take much to Google his network. Clever. Fuck. I knew you only wanted me for my money.”
“That’s not true. I loved you!” I start crying.
How dare he minimize what we had all those years? We were a family. We had dreams. We tried to have a child.
“Past tense. As soon as the money is turned off, hmm. Nice. Real nice. The internet is right. You are a gold digger from the slums.”
I wiped away the tears, trying to turn them off.
Adam immediately canceled my credit cards the night I left him. I doubt he’s even shed a tear since.
I’d moved funds into my personal account the day I left, knowing he would. I took enough for the legal retainer and to live off for a year.
I knew he’d get a notification that I’d withdrawn funds, which he’d told me never to do. I wasn’t sure it would work. Everything hung on me being able to do it. I got a hotel room that night and then, a few days later, rented my apartment, which is furnished.
“You know that’s not true. We were trying to have a baby. I’m sorry we couldn’t—”
“I don’t want to hear it!” Adam snaps. “You won’t see another dollar from me, so tell your attorney to fuck you all he wants. Vanguard is going to destroy both of you.”
Adam hangs up.
I sit staring at the armchair opposite me in shock.
Believing he’s the same man who flew me around the world, said he loved me in our private Central Park ceremony, or made love to me when we’d wake each morning is almost impossible.
What changed?
I know his mom and dad wanted grandchildren. Adam is older than me, so he’d been upfront about wanting a family, but many couples can’t.
If he’d just gotten tested.
We could’ve tried IVF. Or adopted. Or gotten a donor.
Instead, he used his fists and boots on me.
One regret I have is not reaching out to his mother, Valerie. I liked how important family was to her and how she insisted we spend at least every second Sunday night together.
Valerie is old-fashioned and likely upset about me leaving him. She hasn’t reached out, and as every week passes, the more I realize how weak my relationship was. I decide that it’s best to wait until after the divorce and let her call me.
It is his mother, after all.
Right now, I’m shocked at Adam’s words and tuck my legs up under me as I grab a cushion to hug.
I wish I had a mom to call and cry with. I feel alone and extremely exhausted.
An hour later, the result of our phone discussion becomes clear.
Zander calls, and I almost don’t answer.
“Hello.”
“Where are you?”
“At home. Why?”
“I’m coming over. Be there in ten minutes.” His voice is stern.
This must be serious if he’s coming to my penthouse. Zander has been very careful with boundaries since the Spring Gala.
My heart thuds as I wait.