I turned the steering wheel and hit the gas. “Goodbye, Wolf.”
I got a furnished apartment. It was small with a single bedroom and a kitchen that was also the dining room. I could only fit a single couch, and my bedroom was only big enough for a queen bed and a single nightstand.
It wasn’t luxurious, but at least it was home.
Now that I was really on my own, the weight of everything hit me so damn hard.
Like a pile of bricks had been dropped on my head—and my heart.
I sat the kitchen table with a bottle of white wine as a friend. My lips sealed around the edge of the bottle as I took a large drink. The booze burned my throat and made my stomach tight, but it didn’t numb my heartbreak.
I could have ignored his actions if I wanted to keep living there. Most women would probably do that. Keep a cheating husband as long as they got to be rich. But since I loved that cheating husband…that wasn’t an option for me.
I sat in the dark and let the tears come to the surface. It was the first time I’d allowed myself to feel the harsh pain. I’d been choking it back up until this point, but now that it was really over, I let myself feel it.
It was like a hammer to the gut.
Tears sprung from my eyes and streaked down my cheeks. My sobs echoed in the small kitchen as I replayed that moment in my head. He walked up the stairs with those two girls at his sides, intending to fuck them in the bed where I slept every night. Our beautiful lovemaking was replaced by something meaningless.
Was I stupid for loving Maverick DeVille?
Was this my fault for letting my heart get so weak?
No…because I thought he loved me too.
I didn’t misinterpret what happened. We were together. It felt real. He risked his life for mine, and he was the best husband a wife could ask for. We were intimate, honest, beautiful. I wouldn’t trade it for anything else in the world.
Then he threw it all away.
All because I told him I loved him.
How stupid was I?
2
Maverick
I sat in my office across the hall from my bedroom. Now that Arwen was gone, I was smoking cigars on a daily basis, and my scotch reserves were slowly being depleted. There was no one nagging me about my health, so I did whatever the hell I wanted.
Abigail knocked on the open door before she stepped inside. In her arms was the pink dress Arwen had worn to the party a few nights ago. It was on the hanger, unwrinkled, like she’d taken care of it. “She left this behind. I can arrange to get it to her. Or if you prefer, I could just throw it away.”
I sank in my chair with my fist propped under my chin. “I’ll take it to her.”
“I can handle it for you, Mr. DeVille.”
“No. It’s okay.”
Abigail gave me a look of pity before she draped the dress over the back of the couch. “Anything else I can get you at this time?”
I brought the cigar to my lips. “Close the door on your way out.”
I called her three times, and she never answered.
I knew where she was staying because my men kept tabs on her. She had a small apartment that was walking distance from the theater. It was close to where she’d been living before we got married.
I carried the dress to the second floor then knocked on her door.
Her apartment must be small because I could hear her footsteps so easily. She had a small budget even with the money she took from me, so she could only afford the bare minimum. I stood on the other side of the door as I listened to her approaching footsteps get louder.
She opened the door and looked at me with the same cold expression as before.
I didn’t know what I’d expected when she opened the door. Maybe less ferocity now that she’d had a few days to calm down. But she was even angrier than she was when she left my property.
Her eyes glanced down to my hands. “Please don’t tell me you came all the way here to give me that.”
“What am I supposed to do with it?”
“This.” She snatched it out of my hands and carried it to the garbage can next to her counter. She stuffed it inside, getting it stained with the mustard she’d used on her lunch. She pushed it down until it was all the way inside before she came back to me.
That dress cost a fortune. She could have sold it for extra cash.
She looked at my hands again. “Where are the papers? All I need you to do is fill in the little tabs I marked on the side. You do paperwork every day. I know you can figure it out.” She crossed her arms over her chest and didn’t invite me inside her apartment.