My Kind of Perfect (Finding Love 3)

“I do,” I tell her, answering her question. “I actually have to work a double.” A lie.

She chews the inside of her mouth. “Then you better get some sleep.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” I say, a plan forming in my head. “Guess I’ll see you in a few days.” I step close to her and kiss her cheek. “I love you.”

“Me too,” she chokes out. “I, uh, I gotta go.”

I watch as she grabs her purse and rushes out the door, and then I fall back into bed, knowing if I don’t get some sleep, I’m going to be useless tomorrow, and as much as I want to follow my wife and catch her in the act, I have a crew of men who need me to lead. I worked hard to get to where I am, and I can’t lose everything I’ve accomplished—especially since there’s a good chance I’m going to lose my wife anyway.

“You’re more than welcome to crash at my place,” Alec says as we walk to our vehicles. It’s finally eight in the morning, which means our twenty-four-hour shift is over and we’re off for the next four days—unless another guy calls out and I have to come in. This has been one long as hell week. “I was only fucking with you yesterday about squatting on my couch,” he adds.

I laugh at his remark. Yesterday I was fucking with him about not owning up to his feelings for Lexi, his best friend whom he’s in love with but won’t admit to. And in return, he called me out on sleeping on his couch several times the last few weeks.

“I know, man, and I appreciate it, but… I need to go home.” I don’t bother mentioning that my wife has no idea I’ll be home in a few minutes, and if I’m right about my suspicions, there’s a good chance I’ll catch her with another man, in our home, dirtying those clean fucking sheets. “I’ll see you tomorrow night.” Alec’s birthday is today, and we’re all going out tomorrow night to celebrate.

I jump into my charcoal gray BMW 3 series—a gift to myself last year when I got my promotion as Battalion Chief—and head the few blocks home. I pull through the gate of our community and smile to myself at how far I’ve come. Victoria and I grew up in a small, poor neighborhood in South LA. We would talk of one day getting out of the ghetto. She would become a huge model and I would fight fires. We both achieved our dreams, but unlike Victoria, who couldn’t deal with the dark parts of your dreams coming true, I remained grounded. She wanted to purchase a mansion in Hollywood Hills with the money she was making, but I refused, instead telling her we could do that in a few years.

It’s a good thing I won that argument, because not too long after, she was caught with blow up her nostrils during a fashion show. Her career tanked, and I found out she spent all her money on partying and getting high.

When I got my promotion, I moved us away from Hollywood and into a two-bedroom apartment near UCLA. It’s more laid back—less temptations for her. I paid for her to go to rehab and when she got out, I had everything set up and ready. At first when she got out, she was on board, focusing on herself and us, but all too quickly, she was back to her old self. Going out and partying. She swears she hasn’t done any drugs, but I wouldn’t doubt she’s lying.

I go to pull into my designated parking spot, but there’s already a newer-looking Porsche parked in it. I glance over and see Victoria’s Mercedes in hers. I bought it for her when I got my promotion, hoping it would make her happy. Spoiler alert, it didn’t.

I park in a guest parking spot and then head up to our second floor apartment. After unlocking the door, I open it slowly and quietly, and then close it the same way. I walk through our foyer and living room and stop in the doorway of our bedroom. The door is wide-open and she’s in bed, sleeping on her side. Her hair is splayed out across the pillow, and her lips are forming a little pout. And behind her is a man I’ve never seen before with his arm thrown over the side of her, his hand resting on her bare, fake breast—something else she wasted her money on, thinking she needed them to be successful.

I knew there was a damn good chance this was what I would find when I walked through the door, but I wasn’t prepared for the hurt and betrayal I would feel seeing my wife in another man’s arms.