“Explain,what? That you cheated on me. That you were going to steal money from my non-profit? That you work with amob, Bobby? What the hell is wrong with you?”
He shakes his head several times while saying, “That’s not true. He filled your head with lies, babe.”
“I saw everything,” I retort, wishing my voice was a bit more stern and disgusted, but I’m more breathy and a bit freaked out that he’s standing here right now. “The text messages, how much youmissedJolene and you couldn’t wait to fuck her?—”
“That’s ancient history.”
“That’s as of several days ago. A few before our wedding.”
He frowns, evidently thinking he was probably going to come in here and convince me of his innocence, but I won’t stand for it.
I won’tdealwith it.
“Listen,” he hedges, lifting his hands in mock defense. “I wasn’t the best. I made some mistakes.” I scoff because that’s not even scratching the surface. “But I love you, babe. I wasmarryingyou.”
“Not anymore.”
That’s when his blameless demeanor cracks, becausehis brows pin together and he takes an unnecessary step forward. “What the fuck does that even mean?”
I stare at him because…I dunno, I’m married? You can’t marry someone who’s already married; it’s kind of a thing that’s against the law. This is common-sense stuff, and I don’t want to have this conversation anymore when I’m trying to gather my things together and get ready for this trip.
“You need to go, Bobby,” I impart instead. “Now.”
“I’m not leaving until you decide you want to marry me and you’ve forgiven me?—”
“You haven’t even apologized for one,” I bark back with anger. “And, two, you’re a cheater. I’m not dealing with that. And, three, you were going to steal from me. There’s nothing about our relationship?—”
I suddenly notice that the window to my bedroom is open.
The air in my personal space cooling by the second because it’s dead of winter, and it’s how Bobby got here.
Bronte did say he was going to have someone outside my place for protection. I didn’t ask questions; I was honestly too hungry and gung-ho on packing while he was gone that I didn’t throw two and two together.
But he was protecting me from something like this.
Bobby desperately climbed up the emergency ladder to get to me.
He doesn’t climb things.
He’s never been desperate to my knowledge until recently.
The man is in some deep shit, and I’m the solution to his problems.
And a desperate man can be a dangerous one.
Something cracks through the air then, and in my head, it warns me to tread lightly moving forward.
I’m alone and, maybe if I scream, it might get those men Bronte told me were around to come in here and escort Bobby out.
“Bronte isn’t mentally stable, Meirna,” Bobby mutters softly. “It’s why I never mentioned him before. Honestly, I thought he was off, doing his own thing; we never had the best relationship. I didn’t want to bring that into your life. You’ve always been special to me.”
“You need to go,” I repeat again. “Now.”
Bobby closes more space between us, and I counter his actions. “Meirna, stop. I’m not going to hurt you.”
“This is highly inappropriate, and?—”
“I’m your fiancé,” he retorts mildly. “We slept in the same bed together.”
