I swear, this man was making it his life’s mission to destroy my ovaries. As I scanned the rest of the field, finding most of my colleagues’ eyes glued to Damien and Abigail, I knew I wasn’t alone in feeling that way.
“Alright, Mrs. Collier. Ready to do this with me?” Damien called out from the other side of the station.
Nope. Not even a little.
As I pulledinto the driveway, a soft sigh left my lips. After spending the whole day in the sun, heaviness clung to my body, but my soul felt lighter than it had all year. The day wrapped up perfectly, with the team posing for pictures and signing balls for each of the kids. I pulled myphone out of my backpack, swiping through all the images I had taken to show Hadley. I lost myself in my students’ smiles, letting them fill the empty place in my chest.
Tucking my phone back into my pocket, I stared at the unopened garage, trying to muster up the same enthusiasm to walk inside. Even after living here for three years, it still didn’t feel like home. It was a beautiful build—a traditional raised ranch like so many other properties in our neighborhood. This development was one of Todd’s company’s projects, taking open pieces of land and carving out hundreds of identical homes.
When we used to talk about buying a place, I wanted to find something with a little more character, a home we’d both change and develop together. But Todd resisted, especially when the company offered him land as a thank you for years of service.
My stomach dropped when Todd came home one day and showed me the plans he’d developed for us. It looked like every other house on the block, but considering that his paycheck paid for the bulk of the build and the construction loan, he convinced me to give it a shot.
As I looked up at the beige siding, I hated the twist in my stomach.Ungrateful.That was the latest word Todd liked to throw at me, and maybe he was right. There were so many people who’d love to live in a house like this one, who would have given up their own style and dreams for a sturdy roof over their heads.
But I couldn’t ignore that little voice in the back of my mind asking me if I wanted to keep being a passenger in my life, to keep letting Todd make all the decisions while I just sat back and watched the years pass me by.
What was the alternative, though? Starting over? That was almost as terrifying. I’d loved Todd since I was eighteenyears old. I didn’t even know what it would be like to date someone else. After all, what we had was fine. It wasn’t like he was the worst husband. He never put his hands on me. Tense silence filled our evenings instead of the shouting matches we used to have, as if we’d both given up on the other, content to just let our unease eat us alive. It might not be perfect, but it was what I knew. Safe. Reliable.
With a shake of my head, I dug around my center console to find the clicker to open the garage. No luck. Great—just another thing for Todd to scold me about. Forget the fact that it’d broken three months ago and he’d promised he’d ‘take care of it’. No, it would all be on me.
Gathering my stuff from the passenger seat, I opened the door and headed toward the back entrance of our house. As I pressed my key into the lock, a noise came from inside. Shit, Todd was already home. Usually, I had an hour or two to clear my mind before he returned from work. He must have finished his project early and came back here.
Opening the door, I listened for his voice, finding it echoing from his office on the far side of the house. With each step, I strained to hear if he was on a work call, but I couldn’t quite make it out.
Until a deep moan broke through the silence.
What the hell?
My steps faltered as the sounds became clearer—moans and grunts I hadn’t experienced in months. The blood dissipated from my veins, anchoring me to the spot. What was I supposed to do? Walk in on his private moment? Part of me wanted to rage. Anytime I tried to connect with Todd, he said he needed to focus on work. Was this his outlet instead?
“Ohmy God, Todd. Just like that.”
The feminine voice ripped through me like lightning, destroying everything around me. I knew that voice, heard it dozens of times throughout the years, shook her hand during my husband’s business dinners and listened to her drone on about his work ethic.
All rational thought left my mind when I darted across the house, quietly opening the office door. Todd sat perched on his office chair, his shirt unbuttoned and his tie slung over his shoulder. Normally, he gelled his dark blond hair back, making the long lines of his jaw stand out. Today, it was a mess, as if he’d been pulling on the strands for hours. My eyes darted down when I noticed movement in his lap.Speaking of pulling. His hand was clamped over his hard dick, frantically gripping and twisting as he stared at an image on his computer screen.
But when I slammed the door behind me, his eyes darted to me, and his mouth dropped open in surprise. Leaping up from the chair, Todd tried to right himself, tucking his cock back into his pants and shoving his shirt back together, as if he might erase what I’d seen with a wardrobe shift.
“Br-Bri…what are you doing here?”
“In my house?” I bit out.
“I didn’t hear the garage.”
“Good thing,” I said, moving to the other side of the desk to see his screen for myself. As soon as I did, I found my husband’s assistant dressed in a skimpy teddy, one of her breasts hanging out. “Wow, Emily. That must be a new part of the job description.”
“Mrs. Collier, wait?—”
Todd clicked out of the call, leaving his background instead—a photo of us from our last trip to the Cape. Hurt lanced through me. God, how had Ibeen so stupid? Sure, we had our issues, but this? In a million years, I never would have thought Todd would ever cheat on me. We’d talked about it for years, how that was my line in the sand. Any other issues, I’d try to work through with him, but this was the one transgression I’d never forgive.
As he stood and buttoned his shirt, he stepped closer to me. I backed up out of his reach, practically standing in the doorway by the time Todd reached for me. At my flinch, his expression shifted. Gone was the busted man from moments earlier. In his place stood the businessman who’d replaced my husband, the one who valued status and money more than our relationship. I searched his dark green eyes, hoping to find the answer to my question.Why?However, there was no apology in his expression—no regret.
“Brianna, we should talk.”
THREE
ONE YEAR LATER
