“Yeah, I have so much to do before the trip this weekend.”
“Ah, the trip.”
He looks at me oddly. “Everything okay, babe?”
Babe.
I used to like that stupid pet name. I hated the cliché before, but when he said it, it sounded cute. But now. Now I know he calls his whore that.
"Never been better." I lie and climb out of bed, padding to the bathroom before him. I don't wait in line.
I don't make coffee. Instead, I curl up with a book and drink the cup of tea I brewed. He doesn't seem to notice.
“I might be home late today.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Got a lot to do at the office.”
"I'll leave your dinner in the fridge then." I smile at him sweetly. I don't remind him we have a doctor's appointment. He's missed the last two, so I doubt this one will be any different.
It's odd how people change and become strangers. Cohen and I met and fell in love in high school. We were inseparable. I never wanted to date, but he convinced me otherwise. I knew what an asshole he was, back then, but I didn't let that obscure my view of him. I allowed myself to experience Cohen Finley for myself.
I never doubted my decision until now.
People who cheat aren't necessarily bad. They're just fucked up and selfish.
“See you later, babe.”
There it is again. That fucking word.
“Don’t call me that.” The words just slip out of my mouth.
His brows knit together. “Babe?”
“Yeah. Makes me sound like a fucking pig.” I grin, and he nods.
“Okay.” He leans in and kisses my cheek. “I love you, Sin.”
"You too, Co," I say, not feeling the words. Not meaning them. Hating myself for saying it.
When he leaves. I walk back into my study and open his Myspace again. I immediately go to the archived chats and am not surprised to find only one in there. Minx. I doubt that's her name. I open the conversation, and I'm met with tits and ass. So many of them it's tiresome. A couple of short clips of her fingering herself.
I shut my laptop and grab my keys. It's icy cold, and a slight drizzle falls on me. Before I can think about what I am doing, I'm climbing in my car and speeding down the highway. The roads are slick, and I know I have to pull myself together if I am going to get there safely. I pull up at his office building, knowing I look a state in my yoga pants, Guns N' Roses T-shirt, and a top knot, but I don't give a fuck.
I march right in and ride the lift up to the fourth floor. The open plan is empty. It makes sense why the bastard chooses to fuck his whore this early. I stand outside his door and lean against the frame for support. What the fuck am I going to do? I hadn't thought that far.
I open the door, and the sight that finds me makes me keel over and empty the contents of my stomach on the plush carpets. Cohen is balls-deep in a woman, yeah, but the fact that she's pregnant is the fucked up part.
"What the fuck?" I yell when I manage to straighten myself up.
“Baby, it’s not what you think.”
“Fuck off. Shut the fuck up, Cohen...”
I'm dizzy. My head hurts. "Is that his?" I screech, pointing at the woman’s swollen belly. She looks at me, her head tilted to the side, almost amused, triumphant. She's beautiful, glamorously pregnant. A little hard around the edges.
“Yes,” she answers. I feel like I can’t breathe.
