Only Him (Only One 1)

When I pull out of the parking lot, I head over to Robert’s house and turn off the security alarm, then walk into his office. When I agreed to marry him, he added me to his bank account, though I never use his money for anything.

I sit at his oversized oak desk and open the top drawer. Once I find his checkbook, I write it out for the amount he said, then scribble the information in the registry. Afterward, I notice a handful of payments for three thousand dollars that are all dated within the last month. They’re not written out to anyone in particular, so I flip to the carbon copies to see if there’s more information. I sit there confused because the name is blank and only has the dollar amount and his signature on them.

Sucking in a deep breath, I close the checkbook and place it back in the top drawer. It doesn’t close properly, so I reach my hand in and pull out several wads of crumpled paper. Instinctively, I smooth them out and notice they’re handwritten receipts.

The moment I read the company name, my heart drops.

I can’t breathe and nearly gasp for air when I realize they’re for a private investigator.

With shaky hands and adrenaline rushing through me, I put them where they were, hidden and wadded up behind the stack of files. I grab Winnie’s payment, stuff it in an envelope, and try to calm down.

After I place it in the mailbox, I get the fuck out of there. I’m so angry that I’m nearly in tears, and I can’t think straight. Maybe it was for something else, but I know for a fact I was being followed, and hell, maybe I still am. That means Robert was gaslighting me when he said he didn’t know what I was talking about and made me feel like I was going crazy.

I have a feeling he knew exactly what was going on, and that’s why he didn’t come to my rescue. It makes me sick that he’d do this to me.

How do I even bring this up after we agreed to put more effort into our relationship? This will undoubtedly change everything. I’ve lost complete trust in him and faith in our future. If I hadn’t already agreed to go with him tonight, we’d be discussing it right away.

On the way home, I think about the check registry, and the timeline of when they were written matches when I first saw the SUV parked outside of the garage.

I park in my driveway and allow myself a few minutes. My paranoia is in overdrive, wondering what they must’ve seen. Did they see Tyler come to my house the night they were there? Does Robert have pictures of him leaving? Is he following me because he thinks I’m cheating? A million thoughts and questions hit me, but I won’t get answers until after dinner.

Though I technically crossed a line with Tyler, I stopped it before it went too far and have felt guilty about it ever since. Regardless, it doesn’t justify Robert hiring someone to follow me and invade my privacy.

As I enter the cottage, while losing my goddamn mind, I get a text from Robert. I’ve already agreed to join him tonight, and I’ll have to make sure I play the perfect part so he doesn’t get suspicious. Afterward, when we go back to his house, I’ll confront him. I guess he didn’t remember what evidence he left in the drawer when he asked me to write Winnie a check. Or maybe he thought I was too stupid to find it.

Robert: I’ll be at your house around seven. Don’t forget to pack a bag :)

I feel sick.

This gives me an hour to shower, get ready, and settle down. I don’t want to do this,anyof this. But I’ll do it tonight, so I get ready anyway. I slip on a black form-fitting dress and apply some makeup, but my stomach is in tight knots. Right on time, a knock taps on my door, and I open to see him. He’s all smiles as he looks at me from head to toe, then leans forward and kisses me. It feels dirty and wrong, and I try not to tense. There’s bound to be an explanation for this, right?

“You look gorgeous, Gemma. Are you ready?”

“Mm-hmm. Let me grab my duffel.” I force out a smile and grab my bag.

Robert takes it from me, and we walk to his car hand in hand. He presses a soft kiss on my knuckles before opening the door and ushering me inside.

On the way to the restaurant, he talks about how huge this contract will be. His client wants to buy a hundred acres of land on the outskirts of town to fund a new upscale subdivision. He talks about her idea of million-dollar mansions built around a large pond. She also wants to get into other business ventures and possibly have a strip mall built close to downtown, which would give his company consistent business for years. It’d be his biggest contract to date, and he reminds me how great this would be forus. I try to act excited, but I’m not feeling anything but dread. Too many questions are soaring through my head about the wedding and our relationship.

Regardless that I’m dying inside, I try to keep the conversation moving. “How does she have so much money?”

“Her family is extremely rich, like generations of wealth, and she wants to expand her investments to small towns where she can capitalize. Getting her to sign with me would be a game changer for my company.” He turns and looks at me, grabbing my hand. “It’s why I brought my lucky charm.”

With everything I have, I hold back a groan and the urge to throw up. After parking, we walk inside with our fingers interlocked. The lights are dim, and the waiters are all wearing black ties and slacks. It’s a five-star restaurant where all the drinks are served in crystal glasses, and every table has an expensive bottle of wine on it. This is the type of place you’d take someone to propose.

A smile fills his face, and I swear I see dollar signs in his eyes as he looks across the room. He waves to someone and then pulls me close before walking toward her. Even from a distance, the woman is gorgeous with her platinum blond hair and smoky eyes. She stands to greet us once we’re within arm’s length. I notice her skintight pearl-colored dress that probably costs thousands, and her designer heels are at least five inches tall. With her perfectly plump lips, high cheekbones, and contoured face, she could easily be a Kardashian cousin. This woman oozes elitism, and I know Robert is drooling over that fact.

She looks me up and down and smirks.

“Hey, so glad you could make it,” Robert says, taking her hand in his. “I managed to bring my beautiful fiancée with me after all,” he tells her, sliding his arm around my waist.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you, Gemma,” she says kindly, shaking my hand next.

“You too,” I reply, then we all take our seats.

“Robert has told me so much about his future wife, I feel like I already know you.” She chuckles as she taps her long nails on the table. “He talks nonstop about the two of you and how you’re getting married before the end of the year at the little white church on the hill. Congrats! It sounds like it’ll be a beautiful wedding.”

I look over at Robert, narrowing my eyes in confusion. Nothing has been set in stone yet. What the hell is she talking about?