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Saturday came and went with more tears, more anger, and more pain. Mel had to take the Saturday shift at Dynamics, so Rosa kept her company. They played Call of Duty for hours. Rosa was pretty damned good at it and Anna just appreciated the escape and the killing. Very therapeutic and a complete relief to not have to think about anything else. Mason had texted a fewtimes, feigning concern for Mel and disappointment that Anna would not see him before he left Sunday night.
By Sunday night, Anna was cried out. She declined Rosa’s offer to stay with her, preferring instead to tear her house apart herself for some kind of clue. Some kind of explanation. She needed answers, even if those answers hurt. She considered her evidence: late working hours, a secret bank account, a covert lunch date with an intimate-looking kiss, and Mason’s mood swings. Did his mood swings come from guilt? Stress from hiding a secret? Disgust with her? Frustration that he couldn't be with April? Anna’s heart sank when she realized the most likely explanation. In four months, he’d be a rich man. Sure, they weren’t married yet, but they were common law partners, which entitled him to half her funds if she tipped her inheritance into a shared account, which she had planned to. That obviously wouldn’t happen now. They were never going to be married. He was going to leave her. He was going to take her grandparents’ hard-earned money to spend on his skank. Anger replaced devastation very quickly. She stormed into their bedroom and began to rip it apart.
Drawers were wrenched out; his suits were ripped from the closet. She pulled the mattress off the frame.Had her fucked her in here? Had she slept in a bed where he’d come inside another woman?
Sitting in the wreckage of her room, Anna began to calm down, though this involved more tears.Fucking crying. I’m over crying. My eyes hurt, she thought. She began cleaning up, restoring the clothes to the closet, but searching every pocket for some kind of clue or evidence. Nothing.
She began replacing the drawers in the cabinet, but a flash of red caught her eye. Mason was predictable in his underwear choice. Solid blue, black, and white designs. No patterns, no bright colors. She pulled the red item out and flung it on thebed when she realized what it was. A bunched-up silk negligee sat there, offending her with its very presence. She pinched it between her fingers like it was a lab sample of a virus. It wasn’t a practical pajama choice. It was intentionally sexy, cut low in the chest with slits high in the sides. Lace adorned the hem at the skirt and the edges of the deep V neckline. Skinny ribbon straps held up the lace-and-silk abomination. She checked the tag. Not her size. She was too short to pull it off and her boobs would ooze out of the flimsy silk cups. She dropped Exhibit A and headed into the kitchen for tongs and a baggie. All evidence should be carefully collected, she told herself, not really understanding why she wanted to bag this up. It probably had fluids on it. She sniffed the bag, smelling only perfume and maybe a bit of sweat. Okay, so they’d removed it before the main action. It was still gross.
She texted Mel a photo of the baggie with a short message.
Anna: I assume this is the bitch’s lingerie. Found it in his drawer. Definitely not mine. Tell me, what would the heroine in one of your romances do?
Mel: She’d confront the other woman’s husband. He'd be angry but not devastated because their marriage was dead. He’d eventually team up with you and you’d fall in love.
Despite her agony, Anna snorted in laughter. Shane? He’d sooner rip Mason’s head off and put it on a stake outside his house to warn other men off approaching his precious, perfect wife. He looked like that sort of man. Protective, possessive, maybe even vengeful.
Anna: What if that the OW’s husband was terrifying and the heroine feared for her life?
Mel: She’d do it anyway because she’s brave and sick of her man’s shit. Honestly though Anna, he has a right to know. If you wanna talk to him, I’ll come with you.
Anna straightened and walked into the bathroom, wincing at her reflection. Her eyes were red and puffy. Her hair was a matted mess pulled into a messy bun to hide the knots. She sniffed under her arms. When had she last showered? This heroine certainly wasn’t brave. She was a stinky mess. Tears took hold of her as she threw herself onto the potentially defiled mattress on the floor. Bravery could wait. Tonight, she’d fall apart
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She woke Monday morning to two messages
Mason: Arrived safely. Busy few days setting up but will call when I can.
Mel: We told Madame Celeste you had violent diarrhea. You’ve got a few days off. You know how she feels about illness, especially if it involves poop.
Anna smiled. She knew a few days off meant that Rosa and Mel would be pitching in and taking her classes. Rosa hated the old folks’ classes. They liked to line dance and every few weeks there was some kind of issue: a popped hip, a bladder accident, or an angina attack. The whole old folks’ class was an insurance risk waiting to happen, but Madame Celeste was all about bringing the joy of dance to anyone who desired it, no matter their age or health. Rosa, who had very little patience, was throwing herself on a grenade by taking that class.
Anna sat on the maybe-gross mattress and looked around the room. It was mostly clean now, apart from the disheveled bed. She stood, corrected the mattress, and re-read Mel’s messages from the previous night. After a few deep breaths, she drafted a reply.
Anna: Thanks Mellie. I’m taking the day to de-stink myself and pull myself together. Then, I’m going to Shane’s work. Rosa found him on LinkedIn. Thanksfor the offer, but I don’t need back up. This heroine is gonna be brave. But if I die, you’ll know who killed me.
Mel: Nah, I’m telling you. He’s your HEA. *laughing face emoji* Worst-case scenario is he confronts his wife, and Mason is made aware that it's all out now. And if that happens, who cares? You were gonna dump his ass anyway. It just will be sooner than you planned.
Taking a deep breath, Anna set about showering and becoming one of Mel’s romance novel heroines. She could do this.
Chapter 6: Shane—Disney fairies and bagged evidence
Shane locked the office door. He should be pleased. Morgan Security had really taken off. Leveraging his experience as a marine, Shane had spent the last two years building a successful business. Offering bodyguard services, security patrol services, and in-house security contract personnel, his company had grown exponentially. He had 23 office staff and at least 100 contractors who worked security offsite. While he was proud of his hard work, April was prouder of the money. Proud was the wrong word. April was pleased with the money. Even the thought of his wife made his body tense. How had things changed so much? She had always been a standoffish person, but he’d loved her for her independence and ambition. April was a beautiful woman, and it hadn’t been hard falling in love with her. They’d married after a whirlwind four months together, planning a happy, secure life and plenty of children.
Four years later, there were no children. Any talk of children had been shut down by April, who insisted she was enjoying her working years and that there was no rush. He’d respected that, but they’d never revisited the topic, and now, they didn’t even seem to visit any topic. They were like roommates. And not even friendly roommates. They both worked a lot, but she seemed to work excessive overtime for someone in the accounts departments. How many accounting emergencies could there be at a software company?
Shane knew she was cheating. He didn’t know who with, and surprisingly, he didn’t care. He didn’t really know her so how could he really love her? The woman he married had been a mirage. Shining in the distance, beautiful and alluring, but the closer he got, she either moved further away or disappeared completely. It was time to end it. They hadn’t had sex in a year,and in the year before that, she’d given him what he termed “a community service fuck,” one designed to shut him up and stop him approaching her. One where she laid on the bed and just took it, and he finished it feeling empty and alone. Eventually, she’d called him perverted, told him no man wants it this much, and urged him to seek help.
His mate Brax had a theory that Shane just accepted it because he had low self-esteem and didn’t think he deserved or could get any better. Brax hadn’t phrased it like that exactly, but Shane read between his careful, tactful words. Sawyer, a former teammate who still worked as a marine, agreed with Brax, but Sawyer had always hated April. He had a way of seeing through people and he’d had April’s number from the get-go. Divorcing April would be a huge financial hit, unless he could prove infidelity, but he couldn’t go on like this.
Distracted by thoughts of April, he didn’t immediately notice the woman sitting on the bonnet of an old blue car in the almost-empty car park. He chided himself for being unaware of his surroundings before looking directly at the woman.
She stared back. Big blue eyes looked at him nervously. She pulled her lower lip into her mouth, as though she was deciding whether to talk to him. She was tiny, a petite little thing who reminded him of a brunette Tinkerbell. She uncrossed her legs and stood in front of her car.
“Shane Morgan?” she asked nervously.
