Chapter 16
Even though it was Oliver’s birthday, I worked late at the office and walked into the penthouse after visiting hours were over. I didn’t care. Maybe Tim Stoddard was right, I was a fucking cunt. I kicked off my shoes, threw my briefcase and coat on the couch and went straight to the kitchen. Trouble came bounding down the hall and almost tripped me.
I picked him up and scratched behind his ears. Poor boy was alone most of the time. I had the concierge walking him while I was away. Maybe I should consider getting another dog to keep him company. I switched on the light over the island and found the dish towel I hung on the stove handle on the floor.
“Did you do this? You bad boy.”
Trouble struggled in my arms, trying to lick my face. I put him down and grabbed a pink ball I found lodged under the toe kick of the island, throwing it into the living room. He went crazy chasing after it and I heard his toenails clicking on the floor. I would have to take him to the groomer to get him cleaned up. I hated giving him a bath because he gave me such a hard time and it had been a few weeks.
As usual, I poured myself a scotch and grabbed a granola bar from the cabinet. It was a weird mix, but it was late, and I didn’t feel like cooking or ordering anything. All I wanted to do was have a drink and a relaxing bath.
Trouble napped on the bathmat next to the tub while I sipped at my drink and let the hot water seep into my tired bones. It was almost 10 p.m. by the time I got out and I slipped on Oliver’s blue terry cloth robe on after I dried myself. As I was washing out my scotch glass, I heard my phone vibrate.
I stopped by to say hello. Call the concierge.
This late? How do you know I wasn’t asleep?
Just let me up.
I chuckled and buzzed the concierge, telling him to let Ty come upstairs. He didn’t start his shift until 11:00 and was probably looking to kill time. I didn’t worry about getting dressed. Ty had seen me naked a few times when we were teenagers. It didn’t bother me that I was nude underneath my robe.
He knocked a few minutes later and I opened the door to find him dressed in a pair of black jeans, gray sweater and a navy-blue pea coat.
“No slacks and sport coat tonight?” I asked.
“I have an undercover sting I’m working on.”
He went to kiss my cheek and I turned so he caught the corner of my mouth. I knew I was treading on thin ice. I wasn’t thinking about Ty’s feelings. I just wanted to hurt my husband.
“Give me a proper kiss,” I said.
“You had one.”
I huffed and walked to the kitchen with Ty right behind me. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“Got any soda? I could use the caffeine right now.”
I reached into the refrigerator for a can of Coke, sliding it across the counter. It left a damp streak mark on the granite. Ty popped it open and took a long drink.
“What time did you get home?” he asked.
“About an hour ago. I took a long bath and had a scotch and granola bar.”
He crooked his eyebrow. “That’s a hell of a dinner,” his tone disapproving.
I shrugged, leaning against the counter. “I don’t feel like eating much these days.”
“You shouldn’t go without food. You don’t sleep much and you’re under stress. That’s a good way to get sick. Flu season is coming.”
“Is that your professional opinion?”
His face darkened. “That’s my opinion as a friend.”
“I’ve had a rough day. Teagan went to the hospital this morning. She has an ear infection. Sadie was hysterical. I visited Oliver for a few minutes, today was his birthday.”
Ty took another gulp of Coke. “You didn’t stay?”
I raised my voice. “Fuck him. After what he’s done, he’s lucky I even went to visit him at all.”
He let out a loud sigh. “You need to deal with your hostility in a better way. You can’t divorce him tomorrow. You’ll have to bear with him until he’s well.”
“Why? Who says I can’t divorce him?” I demanded, my voice trembling with anger. “I can’t be around him. Every time I am, it just makes me angrier. I don’t understand you. You know what he’s done to me.”
Ty’s gaze was steady. “I also know he did something I would probably do if we were together. He wanted to protect you. I can’t fault him for that.”
I was yelling now.
“I can. What he did almost got us killed.” I clenched my fists, the memory of that night flashing in my mind. “He’s going to have to live with what he did, and he’s going to have to do it without me. That will be the worst thing for him, to know I’m somewhere in the world and no longer his.”
“You can just turn off your feelings for him like that? You were deeply in love with him,” Ty challenged, his brow furrowed in concern.
Tears stung the back of my eyes. “I grew up and came back to reality.” I tightened the robe around me, feeling exposed. “You know I’m naked under this robe.”
Ty took another swig from his Coke and shook his head as he swallowed. “I didn’t come here to have sex with you. I came here to see how you were.”
“I’m fine, and I would be better if you fucked me,” I shot back, my voice cracking.
“You’re not using me for revenge. What the fuck is wrong with you? Where is the Ryleigh that I grew up with? The thoughtful, sweet, kind woman?”
“She fucking died on Fox Island and in her place is this bitch you see before you.” I could feel my eyes burning. “You know I heard three of my vice presidents saying the same thing this morning, so it must be true.”
“It’s not true. She’s somewhere in there,” Ty insisted, his voice softer now.
My vision grew blurry with tears. “It is. That woman is never coming back. Oliver destroyed her. You know the fairytale I was living before I got married is over. This whole situation and everything that occurred on my honeymoon just makes me realize I have a black cloud following me. You’re probably best not to hang out with me.”
I felt the tears sting and I sniffled as they brimmed on my lids. Ty put his soda down and came around the counter to take me in his arms. The minute he did, I fell apart. I’d cried when Oliver was injured but it hadn’t been for a while. I kept everything inside, trying to be strong for him. Now I just lost it.
Ty held me, stroking my damp hair as I buried my face in his chest and clung to his sweater for dear life.
“Shh, don’t cry. Things will get better.”
I whimpered and continued to cry until I was hiccupping. If my employees could see me now, it would prove what they’d been saying all along. I wasn’t fit to head Fox Asset Corporation.
I wondered what they would say when they found out I wasn’t turning the company back over to Oliver when he got well. I knew it would be a while until that happened but I’m sure they would say I was a heartless bitch especially when it got out that I wanted a divorce.
Despite what Ty said, things would get worse before they would get better, and I had to keep it all inside until Oliver was well. Ty held me tightly in his arms until I calmed then he let me go and looked down at my face.
“I can’t do this. I’m a fraud.” I pressed my hands against my temples, feeling the pressure build. “Every day I go to work afraid it’s all going to come out.”
Ty leaned forward; concern etched on his face. “Oliver never should have put you in charge. You’re still new to all this.”
“He wanted someone he trusted,” I said, my voice wavering. “Someone who would have a vested interest in a company he put hard work and love into building.”
Ty sighed, shaking his head. “I think you should see a therapist. You need to get this out. You’ve bottled it all inside.”
“I don’t want to talk to a therapist,” I snapped. “I had enough of that when I was a child.”
“And they helped,” Ty insisted gently.
“No, they didn’t,” I countered, my voice growing louder. “I went because I was six and didn’t talk at the time. I was in shock after seeing my father killed. Sometimes I wish I was the one who shot Caruso.”
“You wouldn’t want that on your conscience, no matter how big a piece of shit he was,” Ty said, his eyes darkening.
“I would,” I said fiercely. “I would’ve avenged my father’s death. I lost a whole year of my life and many nights to bad dreams that I still have.”
“You still have nightmares?” Ty asked, his voice softening.
“Sometimes, only they’re different now.”
“Different how?” he asked, leaning closer.
This was the first time I would tell someone outside of those who were on Fox Island what happened and what I saw. I would never tell my family or friends.
“I’m on the island, and instead of my father, it’s both my father and Oliver,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “My head is fucked up. I saw Trevor bleed to death and Raphael die in front of my eyes, even though he deserved it. I watched Oliver fade before my eyes. I was coated with his blood. I won’t forget that, no matter how much therapy I have. If you know a therapist who can shut off my head, let me know.”
Ty reached out, taking my hands in his. “It’s not a matter of shutting off your head, that will never happen. It’s learning to deal with what happened.”
“I don’t want to deal with it. I want it to go away.”
I turned and got the scotch from the cabinet, filling the tumbler I washed after my bath.
He chastised me. “That’s what you’re going to do? Drink?”
I shrugged. “Yes. It dulls the pain.”
“Shit, Ryleigh, you need to talk to someone.”
I smiled to disarm him. “I am, you.”
“I can’t help you like you need. Do you want me to stay?”
“No. What I need from you, you won’t give. I’ll be fine.”
I took a sip of scotch and when I put the glass down, he kissed me on the forehead.
“I have to go. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
I sighed, following him to the door. “I’ll be busy most of the day. I have a few meetings and a conference call. I might not be home until late.”
He paused before he stepped out. “Do you want me to stop by before I start my shift?”
“Call me and I’ll let you know.”
“You’re sure?”
I nodded. “Go before you’re late.”
“Fine. Talk to you tomorrow.”
Ty turned and walked to the door, letting himself out while I indulged in the scotch. I smelled his cologne on me and though it was different from Oliver’s, it still reminded me of my husband. I didn’t want to hate him, but I couldn’t stop. I knew not showing up at the hospital before visiting hours were over must have hurt him.
Two weeks later, Oliver was transported to a rehab facility for more intensive physical therapy. He was stable but weakened from being in bed for several weeks. Once he regained some of his strength, he would come home. I had no idea what I would do then to escape him. The day after his birthday, I went to see him, and he looked at me with sad eyes. I think he knew something was different between us, but he didn’t want to ask.
I kept my hostility in check, speaking to him in low tones, mostly about business. He asked for a kiss, and I reluctantly gave him one on his cheek before I left, hurrying from his room before he questioned me about my distance. Oliver might have suspected but I couldn’t be sure.
He didn’t need me. He had plenty of visitors. Wilmer, Ivan and Dax visited and when I signed in one day, I noticed Lara’s name on the sheet. I felt my blood boiling, but I calmed myself in the bathroom before I saw him. Oliver couldn’t control who came to see him, but it was something I would be sure to add to my list of grievances, there were so many.
Now he was in rehab and my visits were few and far between. I was busy with a negotiation and chose to hide in Oliver’s office rather than face him. It was only a matter of time before I oozed some of the acid I’d been storing. That took place on the day he came home during the second week of November.
It was a Saturday and I set up transport along with twenty-four-hour care in our penthouse. I prepared the guest room down the hall from the master bedroom and had a crew come in, break down the bed to put in storage so we had room for the hospital bed Oliver would need for the time being. He needed one that could be lowered and raised.
I was working at the dining table when the concierge buzzed me to say the ambulance transport was downstairs. I told him to send them up feeling annoyed that the nurse I had contracted hadn’t arrived yet. I was in no mood to help Oliver. In fact, I had a vicious headache from looking at reports for the past few hours.
Trouble was barking as if he knew something was going on and I locked him in the bedroom so he wouldn’t get injured when Oliver was brought inside. A few minutes later, they were coming through the door with my husband. I hadn’t seen him in three days, but it looked like his pallor had improved since I last saw him. He smiled at me as they wheeled him to his room.
I waited until the flurry of activity subsided and Oliver was finally settled in his bed, before calling the nurse. My fingers drummed impatiently on the desk as I inquired about her whereabouts.
"She missed her train," the voice on the other end explained apologetically. "She's waiting for the next one."
I bit back a scathing retort. If I weren't dealing with Oliver's situation, I'd have fired her on the spot. The thought of it brought a fleeting moment of satisfaction.
"Ryleigh," Oliver's voice called out, shattering my peace.
I closed my eyes, exhaling slowly. "Fuck," I muttered under my breath. "Not even home for ten minutes and he already wants something."
Plastering on a mask of forced politeness, I made my way to his room, leaning against the doorframe with feigned casualness. "What can I do for you?" I asked, my tone carefully neutral.
Oliver's eyes met mine, a mixture of wariness and determination in his gaze. "Can we talk?"
I shrugged, my nonchalance belying the tension coiling in my stomach. "I guess now is as good a time as any."
"Can you come in here?" he requested, gesturing weakly towards the room.
Reluctantly, I entered, choosing to settle into the oversized stuffed chair in the corner. The distance between us felt both too vast and not nearly enough.
"I'm here," I stated flatly, crossing my arms.
Oliver's brow furrowed as he studied me. "What's your problem?"
The question ignited a spark of rage within me. "Are you fucking kidding me?" I spat, leaning forward. "What's my problem?"
"Yes," he pressed, his voice rising slightly. "Are you angry at me for getting shot?"
I laughed bitterly, the sound harsh in the quiet room. "That's such a tiny part of why I feel the way I do."
Unable to contain my fury any longer, I surged to my feet and stormed out, ignoring Oliver's calls echoing behind me. In his office, I yanked open a drawer, my fingers closing around a familiar folder. With purposeful strides, I returned to his room, my heart pounding in my ears.
Without a word, I hurled the file onto his lap. Oliver's face drained of color as recognition dawned in his eyes. He looked up at me, his gaze narrowing accusatorily.
"You went through my things?" he asked, his voice a mixture of shock and anger.
I met his gaze unflinchingly, the dam of my emotions finally breaking. "That's what you're concerned about?" I challenged, my voice quivering with barely contained rage. "Not the contents of that file? Don’t you try to turn this around on me you son of a bitch. Everything was a lie. Everything. You knew all about Raphael Caruso and what he did to my father. You knew about my father’s dirty dealings, and you refused to tell me anything. You almost got us killed.”
“I did it to protect you. How would you have felt if I told you the Carusos were after you?”
Unshed tears burned the backs of my eyes. “You put me in a cocoon, and I thought I was safe. I had no idea he was hunting me. Because of your lies, you got three people killed and Raquel paralyzed. I would’ve been killed if not for Brenda.”
He wouldn’t look at me, focusing on his lap. “I didn’t lie. I didn’t reveal the truth for a reason. You were having nightmares, and I didn’t want them to get worse. If you knew the truth, they would’ve. Our wedding was coming up and I didn’t want to destroy the bliss you were feeling.”
“That’s long over. Do you know how I’ve been dealing with all this shit?”
“Obviously not very well. How do you think I feel when you act like you don’t care? I would’ve given my life for you.”
I said words I never thought I would. I’d thought about them so much. “I wish you would’ve,” I whispered.
He stared at me. “You wanted me to die?”
My voice cracked. “I hate you for what you’ve done. I can’t love you, Oliver, I just can’t. Any love I had for you died on that island.”
His jaw bulged with tension. “Is that why you told Henri to call you Miss Stewart again?”
I was screaming inside. I had no idea Oliver was speaking to Henri and he never said anything.
“I can’t do this with you. I wanted to wait but since it’s out in the open, I want a divorce.”
His face reddened. “NO! You’re not leaving me.”
“You’re right, I’m not leaving you. You’re leaving as soon as you’re well enough. I might even be cordial enough to give you a stipend to live.”
“What the fuck are you talking about? I’m a fucking billionaire and it’s my money,” he yelled.
I smirked. “Should’ve read the fine print on your own power of attorney. You gave me control of everything. Your money, our home, your companies and anything else attached to you. I have to relinquish control in writing, and I’m not prepared to do that. You have nothing Oliver and without a prenup, you can’t take it back when we divorce.”
“You can fucking have it!” he screamed. “Without you, I have nothing. I love you.”
I dug my nails into my palms. I had to remain strong. “The feeling isn’t mutual,” I spat out. “My love for you disappeared months ago. I have so much hate in my heart that I wish you died. Maybe Lara Harvin can put you up. You have a bond that we’ll never have. Another dirty little secret you decided to keep from me. You made a child with her.”
“Faith died. I would’ve loved my child no matter who it was with,” he said quietly.
"Then why didn't you tell me about it?" I demanded, my voice trembling with barely contained fury. "I kept asking, and she dropped little hints here and there."
Oliver's eyes darted away, unable to meet my gaze. "I paid her to keep quiet," he admitted, his words barely above a whisper. Then, with a hint of desperation, he added, "I would've eventually told you."
I laughed sarcastically, the sound harsh in the tense atmosphere of the room. "Oliver, these were things you should've told me before we got married, not after the fact." I paused, my next words aimed like a dagger. "Imagine my shock when I found the ultrasound of your child."
Panic flashed across Oliver's face. He reached out, his hand trembling. "You can't do this. You can't leave me," he pleaded, his voice cracking. "You're what's keeping me going."
I took a step back, my expression hardening. "Face it, Oliver, you've lost me for good."
As I retreated further, a cruel impulse seized me. I turned, delivering one final, devastating blow. "I've fucked other men while you've been in the hospital," I hissed, watching his face crumple. "It felt so good to betray our marriage vows."
Oliver's shoulders sagged as he buried his face in his hands, his body wracked with sobs. I turned away, a strange mix of satisfaction and self-loathing washing over me. My transformation was complete, I thought as I walked to the kitchen.
I was a bonafide cunt.
Later, I settled onto my bed with my laptop, the burn of scotch in my throat a poor distraction from Oliver's muffled cries. Suddenly, a loud scream pierced the air, followed by a sharp pinging sound from his bedroom. I didn't move, realizing with a start that I truly didn't care anymore.
When the nurse arrived a half hour later, Oliver was asleep. In the hallway, I spotted his wedding ring on the floor, a slight dent marring its perfect circle. I picked it up, turning it over in my hand. Apparently, Oliver was stronger than he appeared.
I carried the ring to my bedroom, dropping it into my jewelry box beside my own engagement and wedding rings. They sat there, glinting accusingly in the dim light. I knew I would probably never have a use for them again.
As I closed the box, I realized no one had commented on my bare finger. I'd need an excuse if someone did, especially my family. Ty was the only one outside of Oliver and myself who knew I wanted a divorce. The weight of my secret pressed down on me; a burden I wasn't sure how long I could bear.