“Don’t do this, Bex. I have to go. This isn’t a choice. Someone pulled Mara’s hair at school and told her that her dad was a criminal. Cass is freaking out, and when she does that, she hits the bottle hard. I gotta go get my kids and make sure they’re okay.”
Shame washed over me. I didn’t even occur to me that the phone call could have been about his kids.
“I can’t leave Mara and Little A there.”
Mara and Aston Junior were his kids. I knew that much from Milly, one of the small morsels she’d fed me over the years. All this time, they’d seemed imaginary, but now when he said their names aloud, they felt real.
They were innocent souls, like my own kids, caught in a nasty web of bullshit and years of deceit. I couldn’t fault them or hold them accountable for ruining this moment.
“Is that okay, Bexley? Say it’s okay. I don’t want to leave, but I have to. Say you understand. I have to get my kids and see if Denise, the nanny, is at my dad’s house and can go watch them.” His expression softened, and he pleaded with me while his fingers lightly ran down my forearm. “Then I’ll come back.”
“Okay,” I mumbled. “But we can’t fall back into bed with each other like the last fourteen years haven’t happened. Like there isn’t this huge divide between us, and we didn’t both move on. There are a whole lot of other people involved now.”
He kissed my forehead, his lips lingering one second, then two. “Of course. I’m on your pace, your terms, whatever you want. And all those people are important, but none are as important as you. I know I haven’t shown you that in all these years, but give me a chance to prove it?”
I nodded, unable to form a response, and Aston hurried out.
Sliding down to the floor, my back against the couch, I whispered to myself, “I’m not even sure what I just agreed to.”
I was still in the same place, the seam of the sofa digging into my back as I stared down at my wrinkled tank and bare feet, when my phone rang. For the second time in twenty-four hours, I answered without looking at the screen. This wasn’t my real life.
“Hello?”
“Mrs. Miller?”
“It’s Ms. Rivers now. Who’s this?”
“This is Doug Pyle. I work for Peter Prescott’s attorney. We’ve been keeping an eye on Aston for Mr. Prescott, and we noticed he paid you a visit this morning.”
“I’m sorry, I have to go. I don’t know what you want with me, but I don’t have anything to do with this.”
“Please, one second.”
“Does Aston know you’re watching him?” I asked, hearing the tension in my own voice.
“No, ma’am.”
“Then hang up the phone and stop, or I’m going to tell him.”
“Please don’t. Mr. Prescott thought the two of you could come to some arrangement. It’s what’s best for Aston.”
“Tell him he tried that once before, and I didn’t bite. I’m not going to this time either.”
“For Piper, even?”
I hitEND CALLbefore I begged and pleaded for him to never mention her name.
Aston
Fucking Cass.
As expected, I found my hollow shell of an ex-wife laid out on her chaise, with a bottle of expensive vodka hanging from her hand and a glass of wine on the table next to her. Three freaking sheets to the wind, she stumbled over her words and tripped over her feelings.
“I won’t be embarrassed at the school like this. I mean, really? I d-d-don’t deserve that shit. Or at the club either,” she shouted, stuttering.
By embarrassed, she meant the accusations against me, both current and past. Plural. Not only the most recent one.
Ironically, she’d never considered her drinking and pill use to be cause for embarrassment.
