That my wife was a snake.
I raked my hands through my hair.
“Lottie, that’s not…” I rubbed my forehead. “Shit.”
I was messing everything up. I’m losing my shit. I know what I saw. I know what her mother did. I don’t know what the fuck West meant by he won, but I know it’s not fucking good.
And the one person I could have confided in, is now the one person I can’t tell anything.
Lottie’s lips were scrunched, her jaw tight, like she was about to explode with something. But after a moment, she exhaled.
A soft, serene smile came over her lips.
“The only one who has a problem with this marriage is you,” she said.
She turned on her heel, leaving me in the aftermath of paparazzi and eager spectators. I didn’t realize my mother had joined me in the mess until her too soft voice drifted into my ear.
“You swore to me you would let her go.”
I jerked my head, finding her staring at the crowd, working her diamond pendant between her fingers. She slowly found my eyes.
“Do I need to dig that man’s grave up?”
I recoiled. “Mom—”
“I’m trying to protect you. This world has taken my husband. My daughter. I won’t let it take you.”
“She’ll be gone before Christmas,” I gritted.
“Good.”
Twenty-Nine
GRAY
* * *
Hours after the party, I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.
I’m the reason we’re all in this fucking mess.
I alone.
“Grayson?” I lifted my eyes, finding Lottie.
She had changed from her soft golden gown into a Crowne Hall maid’s uniform.
“What are you doing?” I croaked.
I had no words, but Lottie didn’t wait for them. She approached me, eyes downcast, and fell to her knees before me.
“Did you ever fuck her in her uniform?” Lottie asked.
I dragged a hand across my lips. Now I can’t stop picturing it. Fucking Snitch in that dark uniform. Getting it as fucked and messed up as we were.
“Lottie, this is fucked up.”
Lottie dropped to her knees, small fingers going for my zipper. “Has she ever sucked you off?”