Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 282(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 282(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
He’s touching her, holding her, smiling at her, and she is letting him. I get to the last picture, and he has his arms around her, and she’s looking at him with a big smile on her face. It’s almost too intimate to even look at.
Without another word to Becca, I turn on my heel and make my way to the car.
“Home,” I say to Callan and then close off the partition between us. Everything was perfect. I had a whole night planned, and I was going to tell Haven I love her. And now I find out it’s all a big sham.
The drive home is thirty minutes, and I think that’s good so I can calm myself down, but it does the opposite. The more I think about another man touching Haven, the more upset I become.
I’m barely hanging on when we pull into the driveway. “Thanks, Callan. I won’t be needing you anymore tonight.”
I get out of the car with a slam of the door and then walk up to my house.
As soon as I walk inside, I see Haven. She’s all dressed up with a smile on her face. She’s sitting at the barstool, her phone sitting in front of her, and she exclaims, “You’re home.”
I drop the manilla folder on the counter and go straight to the liquor cabinet. I maybe drink one time a year, but I’d say this occasion calls for it.
“Hello, wife,” I say tersely.
“What’s wrong?”
I point at the manila folder. “I got that today. It was interesting.”
She points at the folder. “What is it?”
I take a shot of the whiskey and slam the glass down on the counter with a thud. I spit the words out at her. “Pictures… of you with your boyfriend.”
“What?” she asks, shaking her head. “I don’t have a boyfriend. You’re talking nonsense, King. What is that?”
I laugh, and even to me it sounds maniacal, but I feel like that right now. “Right, like you don’t know. Go ahead, look at it.”
29
HAVEN
From the moment King walked in the door, I knew something was up. This is not the same man that gave me two orgasms this morning before he’d even let me out of bed. He’s angry, and I’ve never seen him this way before.
As I reach for the envelope, he puts his hands on the counter top and leans on them. “What was your plan here, Haven? Get me to marry you and what, wait it out, get a divorce, and run off with the money?”
“Divorce?” I stutter.
He laughs again, but it’s not a happy laugh. “I mean, you’ve put in a lot of effort into this. Even fucking me. My question is, how did you know? How did you know I’d fall for it? I mean, don’t get me wrong, your pussy is good… But I’ve had better.”
My mouth drops, and I stare at my husband in shock. To go from the excitement I felt only moments ago to this is like being on a roller coaster that has gone off the rails. I’m completely lost on why—or even how—he could talk to me this way. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Look at the pictures and then tell me you don’t know what I’m talking about. You’ve lied to me this whole time, Haven, and I fell for it.”
My hands are shaking as I pull open the tab on the envelope. Slowly, I pull out the pictures. One by one, I lay them on the counter and stare at them. I keep wiping at the tears that are rolling down my face, but I don’t say anything.
It’s the man from today. The one that helped me after I fell.
I could explain this easily—heck, I have the cuts on my hands and knees to prove it, but as I raise my head and look into King’s eyes, I know I’d be wasting my time. “You really believe I’d do something like that to you? You think…” I shudder. “You think I’d cheat on you?”
He waves his hand over the pictures. “Are you going to explain?”
I repeat the question. “You truly believe that I would lie to you… that I would cheat on you?”
He smacks his hand on the countertop. “No, Haven, I wouldn’t have thought that, but luckily someone thought they should send me these pictures and show me exactly what kind of woman I married. I’m a fool… a damn fool.”
My heart feels like it’s ripping in my chest. “You are a fool, King.”
I get up from the stool I’m sitting on and try not to wince when I put my weight on my ankle. With a slight limp I walk from the room, but King follows me.
“Where do you think you’re going? This isn’t over. I’m still talking to you.”
As calm as I can, I tell him, “Well, I’m done talking to you.”