Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 86469 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86469 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
"Uh, sure." I frowned, but I'd deal with confusion later. Right now, I had to take care of this. "I'll talk to you later, sis. Have a safe flight tomorrow, and we'll see you guys soon."
"Okay, love you…"
"Love you too." I disconnected the call and pocketed the earpiece.
Walking up the pathway to our house, I saw the additions Emma had made in the past two months. New shutters, a porch swing, lawn manicured and framed with new flower beds, and a fucking waterfall next to our lemon tree. Jesus Christ.
I dug out my keys and unlocked the door, and I was greeted by music playing in the living room.
I remembered when we'd just moved here. It was supposed to be our haven away from LA. A place for us to unwind. A studio for her costume design, a study for me when I read scripts. But it had been ages since I saw her passionate about work. Hell, it'd been ages since she worked, period.
"Emma?" I walked farther into the house, and something akin to dread crept up my spine. Nah, fuck this. I'd been exposed to too many trashy, clichéd movies. Two wineglasses on the counter meant nothing. "Emma!"
There was a thump coming from upstairs, and I dropped my bag on the floor. No. I was about to lose my shit over nothing.
"Noah?" That was Emma's voice, all right. From the stairs, it sounded like. She was breathless, and I hoped I had imagined the panic in her tone. "Is that you?"
I automatically steeled myself, jaw clenching. Fists, too. I prayed I was wrong, and I'd apologize to no end if I was, but…
"Yeah." I rounded a corner and took the steps two at a time. Reaching the landing, I came face-to-face with my girlfriend of four years, and I hadn't imagined the panic at all.
"Y-you're early," she stuttered. "This—this isn't what it looks—I mean…"
My pulse went through the roof.
"This isn't what it looks like? Is that what you're going with, Emma? Huh? Of all the lines in the book, you pick the worst one?"
My stomach churned and twisted. She was wrapped in a motherfucking sheet, and a trail of clothes led to the bedroom door that was closed. Our bedroom. Our fucking bed.
"Tell me you fucking didn't," I whispered through gritted teeth.
Holy fuck, this hurt.
Her eyes grew wide and glassy. "I…I…" She had nothing.
Nausea built up, the pain near crippling, but the rage helped me keep my shit together. I pushed past her and ripped open the door, and there he was.
"Noah, please!" Emma cried out.
I didn't know him. Someone from town? Owner of a nice Ford, I bet. Pants on, shirt on the floor.
Jesus fuck.
Along with the image of his awkward fuckin' expression, I was assaulted with memories. All the goddamn hours Emma and I had spent in here. Every I love you, every morning kiss, the laughs, even the fights, and the promises and plans about our future.
"I-I'm sorry, Noah." Emma grabbed my arm, teary eyes pleading with me, but I barely saw her. I didn't recognize her.
"Don't touch me." I coughed into my fist, my throat all but closed up. Vision blurry. Fuck. Fuck. My mind was an utter fucking mess, but I managed to jerk my chin at the motherfucker who had screwed Emma in our bed. "Get the fuck out."
Emma was sobbing, but whatever she was talking about went unheard.
The guy scrambled to get his clothes on, and when he reached for—Jesus fucking Christ—a wedding ring on the nightstand, I lost it. My body buzzed with pent-up fury, and I couldn't keep it in.
As he stumbled past me, my arm shot out. I slammed him up against a wall and punched him twice in the jaw.
"Oh my God, stop!" Emma screamed.
"You shut the fuck up!" I shouted, glaring murderously.
She froze in place.
I took a step back, my chest heaving. She'd never seen me this way. Tough shit. I'd never seen her as a two-faced cunt.
I stared at her. Saw the sheets, the messy hair, the smeared lipstick. She'd gotten pretty for him. She'd done her hair and put on makeup for another man. But in that instant, she became so fucking ugly to me.
"Go before I put you in the hospital," I told the guy.
He didn't spare Emma a single glance as he raced downstairs, one hand cupping his face.
I looked away from her. Sickened.
Adrenaline, disgust, hurt, and anger rolled around like a brewing storm inside me. My head was fucking swimming. I couldn’t see straight, and the memories wouldn’t stop flooding in. Four years. She was the woman who'd made me wanna settle down. The only one. I'd enjoyed the life of a bachelor and no strings. No complications. Then she'd barged into my life and changed everything.
"Was it worth it?" I lifted my gaze to her again.