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Chapter 15

Mila

The week goes by, and I get several more texts from Clay that I ignore. That seems to work as he doesn’t send me any more.

I sleep in Brad’s bed every night. We’re like two lovers experiencing their first affair. That description does kind of describe me. I haven’t dated a lot, and I’ve never had a man treat me as well as Brad does. He treats me better than Clay, who liked to remind me how much he loved me. With Brad, there’s no sentimental bullshit, but his actions show me that he cares about me.

I’m tidying up the bedrooms and just finished with Isaac’s. I go into Brad’s bedroom, and I’m immediately hit by scents of our lovemaking. I take the bedsheets and inhale them. My pussy throbs at the memory.

I freeze when I hear a noise like a key being inserted into the lock. It goes quiet, and I tell myself it’s my imagination. It must be Clay’s messages during the week that have spooked me. I’m about to continue making the bed when I hear the distinctive sound of the door opening.

The tremble begins in my legs. It can’t be Brad. He can’t make a surprise visit home. That’s just not his style. Then I hear something else. A tap-tap sound like heels walking on the wooden floor. I hold back a scream as the steps get nearer. They are definitely coming my way. I stand there like a sheep ready for slaughter. The shadow falls first, and then the person emerges.

First, my mind registers that it’s a woman, and I exhale a breath of relief. Then I take in the red hair and the green eyes, and I immediately know that it’s Brenda. Brad’s ex-wife. Isaac’s mom.

She looks even more beautiful in person. She’s as curvy as I am. Brad clearly likes his women stacked. Her eyes widen, and she also studies me, taking in my tiny shorts and sleeveless blouse. When her gaze returns to my face, curiosity is written all over her.

“Who are you?” she says, her voice laced with scorn. Unfriendly vibes come off her like arrows.

I square my shoulders. “I’m Brad’s girlfriend. Who are you?” I ask, even if I know the answer to that. No need for her to know how much I know of and about her.

“Brad’s wife,” she says and places a hand on her hip.

“Ex-wife,” I say quickly.

She shrugs. “I’m looking for Brad. Isn’t he off work today?”

I shake my head. “He gets his off days on the weekends now.” That throws her off. I get a sense of satisfaction in letting her know that everything about Brad has changed.

She looks me up and down again, looks at the bed, and then back at me. I hope she’s remembering what an awesome lover Brad was, and she lost all that for another man. She twirls around and leaves the room. I have no choice but to follow her.

I admire her shapely legs as I follow her to the living room. “You can come by later when he comes home from work.”

She doesn’t even look at me. She goes and plops down on the couch. Then she looks at me. “No. I’ll wait.”

I stare at her aghast. It’s mid-morning. “You can’t stay here all day.”

She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Of course, I can. It’s my home.”

Fuck.

“Excuse me,” I say and leave the room a little unsteady on my feet. I go back to what I think of as our bedroom, shut the door, and call Brad on my cell phone. I’ve never called him at work before, and he picks up on the second ring.

“Mila,” he says. “Is everything okay?”

“No,” I whisper into the phone. “Brenda’s here. She’s looking for you.”

There’s a hiss down the phone speakers. “Brenda, as in my ex-wife?”

“Yes,” I whisper.

“Did you tell her I’m at work and won’t be home until evening?” Brad asks. He sounds so calm as if it’s nothing out of the ordinary for his ex-wife to just stroll into the house mid-morning. I like that trait about Brad. Nothing ruffles him. At least not outwardly.

“I did. She said she’ll wait for you,” I tell him.

“Hang tight, Mila. I’m coming home,” he says.

“I told her I was your girlfriend,” I tell him, my heart pounding fast. I fist my free hand. What if he tells me I shouldn’t have? And worse, what if he takes one look at her and wants her back? She’s the mother of his child, and they were married for quite a few years.

“You did well,” Brad says, dispelling all my fears.

After I disconnect the call, I reluctantly return to the living room.

She smiles at me when I walk in. “So how long have you been dating? I can’t believe Brad has a strange woman living in the same house as our son.”

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