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My love for you has never wavered. It’s always been you.
A coil wraps around my lungs and squeezes until I find myself gasping for breath. I read every single one of her emails. I demanded it after she made her confession. This was the one that killed me. This was the one I never got over. These words echo on a loop in my head in quiet moments.
I pull up my phone and scroll through my contacts. Casey is almost always available when I text her.
Me: Having a shit day. Want to meet for drinks?
Casey: It’s 5 o’clock somewhere :)
I’m in a fog as I make my way to my car and drive to the restaurant. It’s okay. I’ll break out of it soon. Rage always takes over eventually.
It feels so much better than despair.
CHAPTER6
Present Day
Mark
Lily walksinto my office with a stack of papers in her hand. I grit my teeth, bracing myself for what she’s about to tell me.
It was probably a futile effort having her research Stephen. What kind of useful information could she find on social media anyway? It won’t tell me what Whitney sees in him or if they’re fucking already, which I’m trying desperately hard not to think about.
This last week has been absolute hell. If I don’t take action now, I’ll waste away.
I’m getting lunch with Whitney today—our last one before the Christmas Ball, which means I have only seven days to get her to agree to that date.
I have to know who I’m dealing with. I have to know what kind of man she’s dating, and how close they’ve gotten.
Lily sits down in the chair across from my desk. “What’s the verdict?” I ask her.
Her eyebrows come together. “The verdict?”
I sigh. “I mean what did you find?”
“Oh.” She lifts her papers up. “Well, a lot of it you probably already know.”
“I know nothing about him, other than that he’s a lawyer who might be fucking my—” I flinch. “Sorry. I haven’t been sleeping well, and it’s loosening my tongue.”
“It’s okay.” A small smile tugs at her lips. “I’ve heard you say worse.”
Yes, she has. I’m not usually one to hire family, but I knew when I started fucking over my life fifteen years ago that I would need an assistant I could trust. Lily is only a distant cousin, but she cares enough about the Walker name to be discreet.
Plus, I pay her extremely well.
“Anyway,” she says, “he’s divorced and has two kids.”
“How old?”
“Seven and ten.”
I nod. “That’s right. He’s younger than her.”
“He’s thirty-nine, and he’s been bar certified since 2009. He opened his firm in 2015 from what I—”
“Is he wealthy?”
She sets down a paper on my desk and pushes it toward me. “I printed this from Google images. I’m pretty sure it’s his house, but I can’t know for sure.”
