I grinned bitterly and poured another drink. "How long has it been going on?"
Turning to me, a glimpse of the old Emma appeared. She was in pain. It wasn't fake. But her big, expressive eyes, freckled nose, and everything I'd once found pretty was just…ruined.
"I swear it was only a few weeks, Noah. I—"
"You can stop right there." I didn't need to hear more. I was oddly calm. The whiskey worked. "I hope it was worth it."
Standing up, I walked out to the hallway and grabbed her keys.
"It was a mistake!" She started crying for the umpteenth time. "What are you doing?"
"What does it look like?" I took the house key as well as the keys to her car and the loft in LA.
"I'm going, okay?" She snatched back what was left on her Dior key ring. "I'll drive down to my mother's in Sacramento, and then we can talk in a few days when we've cooled off. We'll work this out."
That was…the most ridiculous thing I'd heard in a long time.
"Work this out?" I smiled down at her. I had a feeling I'd be a mess for months to come, but right this moment, she was a stranger to me. Everything ours was mine again. I'd paid for it. "You should've thought about that before you fucked around on me. We're done, Emma."
"You can't mean that!" She gripped my arms, and the panic was back. "Are you just going to throw away four years?"
"You did that. When you hooked up with some bastard you met at the fucking store, you threw away four years." I opened the door and began tossing out her bags. "See, I knew we had some shit to talk about. That’s why I'm off this summer, so we could work things out. It's what people do before they get hitched and bring kids into their lives."
She hiccupped on a sob and walked out of the house. "I-I believe we can get on the right track. I b-believe in us, Noah."
"I don't," I said bluntly. "I'd never be able to trust you. This is over."
She swallowed what she was about to say and fiddled with her keys. "I need the car key."
"You mean the nice car over there that’s in my name? Tough shit."
I almost broke my resolve at the despair that flitted across her face, but all I needed was to remind myself of what she'd done. The mere idea of her fucking another man in the bed we slept in was a punch in the gut. Had she moaned his name? Had she sucked his cock after getting off the phone with me?
"I have nothing, Noah," she croaked.
I blinked back the emotions and grinned faintly. "I suggest you get a job, then. And you can always call your new boyfriend if you need a ride."
After closing the door and locking it, I headed straight for the phone to cancel her credit cards. I knew she always carried some cash, and she had a couple cards in her own name, too. That was enough.
I was done.
Time for more whiskey.Chapter 2
I woke up the next morning with the mother of headaches. And as expensive and huge as the couch was, sleeping on it wasn’t recommended. I groaned and rubbed my neck, surveying the destruction in the living room.
There were Post-it notes on some furniture, a few of the pictures on the wall, and various knickknacks. It was fuzzy, but I was pretty sure I remembered deciding last night to get rid of the house. Everything marked was shit Emma could keep, and the rest would be donated.
I couldn’t stay here.
"Fuck." I stood up, nausea and a new wave of fresh pain bolting through me. I felt fucking dirty. Not the kind a shower could fix, either. "That cunt." I scrubbed at my face. I despised her. She'd turned everything about this house into pain and ugliness.
Padding over to the kitchen, I got coffee started and then checked my phone. I squinted at the display. My inbox had blown up with messages from my sister, Sophie, Brooklyn, and even one from Tennyson—Sophie's husband and probably the guy I'd call my best friend.
My sister… Brooklyn… Sophie…
It jogged something in my memory. Mia had mentioned them last night before I walked into this clusterfuck. "Don't let Sophie and Brooklyn be right." About what? Emma? How in the actual fuck…?
I wasn't sure it mattered, but I called Sophie. If I wasn't mistaken, Mia was in the air now.
"Finally, I've been so worried, Noah!" was Sophie's greeting. "Are you okay?"
"How…" That didn't work. Maybe I'd been a pussy and cried a bit last night. Maybe I'd emptied a bottle of whiskey. My throat was raw. "Emma's fucked around on me. Did you and Brook know?"
She cursed then sighed softly. "I'm so sorry, sweetie. I wanted to be wrong. It was just a theory."