KENDALL
“It’s safe to come out now,” Vander says, opening the door twenty minutes later.
I’m sitting on the end of the bed, still seething. Lifting my head, I glare at him as I stand and thrust the photos into his chest. “Want to explain how these are in your possession?”
His gaze lowers to the pictures before his brows climb to his hairline. Picking his head up, he fixes me with an unapologetic look. “I followed the asshole and took the photos myself.”
“Jesus Christ.” I had suspected as much, and I suppose it’s better than him getting someone else to spy on my cheating husband and his sidepiece.
He claws a hand through his hair. “You’re mad.”
No shit, Sherlock. “Mad doesn’t begin to cover what I’m feeling right now.”
“I knew there was more you weren’t saying, and I had to know.”
“I didn’t tell you for a reason!” I shout, losing the hold on my tenuous emotions. “I didn’t want you keeping secrets from West, and now you’ll have to.” I push at his shoulders, and the photos fall to the floor, surrounding us. “You’re an accessory now. And, so help me God, Vander, if you breathe one word of this to my son, I will never speak to you again.”
“You think I’d show him these? You think I’d want to hurt him like that?” He folds his arms in front of his chest and stares at me. Incredulity bleeds into his tone and his expression. “What kind of fucking friend do you think I am?”
“A shitty one!” I blurt. “I specifically asked you to butt out, and you ignored me!”
Grabbing my stuff, I push past him, needing to get out of here before I say something I won’t be able to take back. I’m angry with Vander for going behind my back and doing something I asked him not to do, but I’m well aware the person I’m furious with is Curtis, and I don’t want to vent that rage on anyone but him. I’m also hugely embarrassed Vander witnessed that.What does it say about me as a wife that my husband continuously has affairs?It’s basically broadcasting the fact I can’t keep him happy or satisfied, and I don’t want Vander thinking that about me. It’s humiliating.
“I’m not going to apologize for my actions,” he says, as I walk toward the door. “I will never apologize for trying to protect you.”
“Protect me?” I swing around, struggling to keep my emotions in check. “How does that protect me?” I point in the direction of his bedroom as my voice breaks. “Have you any idea what it does to me to see those images?” Tears well in my eyes, and they are a mix of anger and hurt.
“I never intended for you to see them.” He moves cautiously toward me. Pain and sympathy shimmer in his eyes. “I’m sorry you found them.” He lifts his arm, his fingers aiming for my hair, but I jerk back, out of his reach. Hurt flares across his face.
“What did you intend to do with them?” I ask while I put my coat on and sling my purse over my shoulder.
He shrugs and schools his features into a neutral line, attempting to mask his emotions. “I wasn’t sure, but it can’t hurt to have evidence that might be useful later.”
“You had no right, Vander.” All the anger flees from my tone as exhaustion sets in, seeping deep into my bones and my psyche. “I know your intentions came from a good place, but you can’t ignore my wishes and go behind my back again. This doesn’t involve you, and you need to stay out of it before you get hurt. I’m carrying the weight of so much responsibility on my shoulders right now, and I don’t want to add you to it.”
Hurt splays across his features again. “I’m aresponsibility?”
“Right now, you’re aliability, and I can’t handle that on top of everything else.” I turn to go, hating how such a wonderful night turned so ugly. With my fingers curled around the door handle, I look over my shoulder at him. “Thank you for dinner. It was a nice night up until it wasn’t.” I don’t wait for his reply, opening the door and walking outside.
* * *
I’m waiting in the hall, just inside the door the following morning, ready to accost my vile husband the second he returns from his camping trip with our youngest. I barely slept a wink all night after learning what I did. Hurt still simmers in my veins, but red-hot rage is the prominent emotion consuming me, and I can’t wait to take it out on the source of my anger.
“Mom!” Ridge bursts through the door, wearing a smile and yawning. “I had the best time! It was awesome!”
“That’s great, honey.” I lean down and hug him, squeezing him close. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. Where’s Daddy?”
“He’s putting the camping gear in the garage. Then he said he had to go out.”
Over my dead body will he leave before I have said what I need to say. “I made chocolate chip cookies. They should still be warm. There’s a plate in the kitchen and a glass of milk with your name on it.” I know that’s all the incentive he needs.
“I’m starving! Thanks, Mom.” He kisses my cheek before racing down the hallway. A smile ghosts over my mouth as I watch my youngest, but it quickly fades. What is going to have to happen will upset him, and I hate that for all my kids. Fuck Curtis. This is all his fault. Wrenching the door open, I storm outside, in search of my errant husband.
“Where’d you think you’re going?” I snap as Curtis strides from the garage toward his Mercedes. He took West’s truck camping last night, but clearly that’s not good enough for his whore.
“None of your business.” He shoves past me and climbs into his car.
Pulling the photo I kept from Vander’s stash out of the back pocket of my skinny jeans, I slap it against the driver’s side window before he can take off.
