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Taking two more steps into the room, I whip my head around. I was so stunned to see Kira, I didn’t even realize that Elouise was missing.
Understanding crawls up the back of my neck and I turn towards Kira. “Did you seriously walk in here, introducing yourself as my wife?”
When she glances away, I have my answer.
Cheeks I once thought I loved turn an ugly shade of red. But I don’t feel any pity for Kira. It’s not shame tinting her flesh, it’s embarrassment at getting caught.
“Fuck!” I bark. “What are you even doing here?” I hold up a hand before she answers and a derisive laugh escapes me, “You know what. I bet I can fucking guess. But I don’t want to hear it. If you have anything to say to me, send it through the lawyers.”
My mom gasps, probably at my tone, but I don’t have time for this.
Turning on my heel, I stride back towards the front door.
What a fucking disaster.
Heavy footsteps follow me down the hall and I know it’s James.
“It’s only been a couple minutes,” he says.
I rip open the front door, “Did she drive?”
“No, she wanted to walk.” He heaves out a breath as I try to decide which way she’d leave. “Shit man, I’m sorry. I should’ve asked questions.”
This isn’t his fault, but I don’t look at him because I’m so pissed I might punch him, “Apologize by getting my greedy ex out of my parent’s house.”
As soon as I got over my shock at seeing her, I figured out what Kira is doing here. She must’ve heard that I sold my company in Chicago and now she wants some of that money.
Too fucking bad.
Not waiting for a response from James, I run to the sidewalk. Trusting my instincts, I turn deeper into the neighborhood. If she’s on foot, I’ll be too.
She could be trying to walk home, or to the lakeshore. Or she could just be wandering the streets, angry and hurt, because I’m the dumbass who didn’t tell her I was divorced - that I’d been married. And I’m such a dumbass I didn’t even tell my parents that the divorce had been finalized, simply because I didn’t want to talk about it.
Fucking hell, she must think I’m a cheating asshole. Again.
An invisible rope cinches around my heart and I break into a sprint.
