| |
If I had started to dry off in the truck, it’s impossible to tell because I’m soaked all over again. By the time I enter the house, I’m a shivering mess of wet clothes, dirt, and utter confusion.
Stopping in the vestibule, off the front entryway, I strip out of the clothes that have become a second skin and lean against the wall trying to absorb what just happened.
Nick’s back, and so is his effect on me. I thought I was over him. I most certainly never expected to see him again.
Convulsive shivering disrupts my chaotic thoughts, forcing my eyes to scan the vicinity for something to cover my naked body. There’s nothing tangible in sight, so I go in search of a hot shower, and dry clothes.
I’ve showered and dressed and here I stand, staring at the floor—the magnitude of Nick emotions course through me. I’m near tears, fighting hard to not break down. I’m not sure I can handle him being here, not sure my heart can take not being with him. And I won’t be with him. I’m no cheater, nor am I a quitter—I committed to a marriage with Branson.
The phone rings, snapping me out of my funk, and I race to grab it. “Hello,” I say, out of breath.
“Zeta, it’s James.” His all-business tone tells me something is wrong. “We have a problem—You have a monumental problem.”
“Oh? What’s going on?” I can’t imagine a reason for James to call sounding so serious, unless...
“Ballentine got wind of the deal and they’ve countered your offer plus twenty-percent.”
My heart stops and I feel sick. Ballentine is my only real competitor, they’re already twice my size. “Twenty percent? Wait. How did they find out we were bidding on it? Mr. Carson wasn’t planning on listing it.”
“Exactly. How did they find out?” James says, his voice cooing, suggestive of something sinister. “Obviously, someone in your employ spilled the beans.”
“James, the only people who knew of this acquisition are you, me, Branson, and Clive. Are you suggesting...?”
“Yes, Zeta. Do the math.” His blunt condescension irks me.
“Well, it doesn’t matter. I fully trust our management. Clive has been with us for years—he wouldn’t dare, and Branson...Was it you?” I know it wasn’t, but he’s vexxed me, so this is what he gets.
He laughs, knowing it’s a dig. “How do you want to proceed?”
“I’ll contact Mr. Carson myself. Surely, he’ll listen to reason. He’s been a neighbor to our family for years, and he respected my father, they were friends. I’m sure, he’ll tell Ballentine to take a hike.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure, Zeta. Money talks. Can you afford to counter?”
“I’m not sure. I’ll speak to Clive and Branson and get back to you.”
“Don’t dally.”
We hang up, and I plop onto the mattress of my bed and toss my phone at the pillow. I want Carson’s land. I need it. This has been in the works for months. If I don’t get it, Ballentine will grow even bigger. And I don’t like the idea of their land being up alongside mine.
Edward Ballentine is as relentless as he is fierce. He could care less that the land may connect to mine. He just wants to drown us out.
I need that land!
Reaching for the phone, I dial Mr. Carson.
“Mrs. Reilly, how nice to hear from you.” The smile to his tone tells me he was expecting my call.
“Mr. Carson, you can’t sell to Ballentine. My daddy wanted that land, I want the land. Do you really want it to become the property of Edward Ballentine?”
“Listen, Mrs. Reilly. Times are tough. I can’t do this anymore, and the offer is such that I can retire comfortably.”
“Whatever they offered you, I’ll match it, and you can stay in your house. Please Mr. Carson.” I’m not too proud to beg—I’ll do whatever it takes.
He sighs on the other end. “Well, all right. If you pay what they offered, I’ll take it from you. I’d surely like to stay in my home. You’ve always been a sweet girl, and I have no interest in playing you off each other. I just want to retire and get out of the confounded business once and for all.”
“Thank you. I’ll have James amend the deal, and we’ll make it happen, ASAP.”
“Of course. We’ll chat soon, dear.”
A long-relieved sigh blows from my lips as I hang up the phone and fall back against the mattress. Thank god, James warned me. I don’t know how he found out, but I’m grateful for his slippery lawyer dealings. He seems to be the eyes and ears I need.
I wonder who leaked it to Ballentine. It wouldn’t have been me or Branson.
Wait.
Lifting myself up, I walk over to the window and stare into space. If Ballentine offered such a chunk to acquire that land, he’d drop a pile more just to drown me out.
My stomach flips, and my head shakes vehemently—I don’t want to entertain the idea.
A new thought takes hold, and its deviousness takes my breath away. Nick just happens to work for Carson and soon to be me. He knew about the deal. Given our history, is it possible he’s the rat?
Maybe he’s not over what went down between us.
Maybe he’s out for revenge.
Fire burns to my cheeks as fury takes over. It had to be him.
Well!
We’ll just see about that. I’ll not have Nick working here—not when he’s so clearly trying to ruin me.
Noting that the rain has finally stopped, I finish dressing and race out the door, hop into my pickup, and head straight for Clive’s cabin. On the drive over, I calm considerably. In my soul, I don’t believe Nick would be the rat. He could have left me to fry in the storm, but he didn’t. If you want to destroy someone, you don’t rescue them from dying. There was a time that I knew him—he wouldn’t do something so underhanded. I know it.
I shouldn’t let James get in my head.
Ballantine’s counteroffer is moot. Mr. Carson is selling to me. The color drains from my cheeks as I realize how much money I committed to this deal. It wasn’t going to be a stretch before meeting Ballantine’s offer because I have significant savings thanks to the life insurance money. What if it’s too much?
Clive and Branson will know what to do. I’m sure we could afford it, but I need to know we can manage it. I don’t want to leave us short in case of an emergency. They’ll be at his cabin doing paperwork, like they often do during rainy weather.
I pull up to park a few cabins over because the front of Clive’s is under water, and I don’t want to get stuck. Thankful, that I wore my boots, I slop my way through the massive puddle to the front porch. I pull me feet from my boots and walk barefoot to the door.
From inside the cabin, I hear Clive call out. Startled and concerned, I open the door but halt in the doorway as if hitting a brick wall.
The sight before me is...
I’m not seeing it.
No way.
Rapidly blinking while trying to convince myself that what I’m seeing isn’t real, I reach a shaky hand up and brace it against the door frame. More moans fill the air, burning my ears and flushing my cheeks. My grip on the door frame tightens as I struggle to hold myself upright.
What the...
Am I really seeing this?
Gaping at the scene before me, I nod confirmation. Clive and Branson are kissing and writhing around naked in Clive’s bed—it’s passionate, it’s...Oh my God!
Swallowing hard, fighting the bile rising in my throat, I try to make sense of the scene before me and my swirling thoughts. My cheeks burn hotter, my vision becomes fuzzy—I try to steady myself, but the world goes black.
My eyes open to fully clothed Clive and Branson standing over me and muttering, back and forth, but I can’t hear their words. My eyes skip from one man to another while nightmarish images flood my mind, reminding me of what the two of them had done—what they’d been doing—for how long?
Shaking my head vehemently, I try to deny the reality of which I’m now faced, but it can’t be done.
My husband, Branson, has a gay lover. Branson is gay?
In a thousand years, this isn’t something I would have ever suspected or expected. Branson’s dwindling affection for me hasn’t been a surprise given what we’ve been through, but he still attentive, cordial, and...obviously just playing the part.
And, all the talk about starting a family.
I never for a second thought he had taken a lover—never in my wildest twisted dreams did I imagine his professional relationship with Clive had morphed into something more. But it has. I see it in their mutual exchanges of concern and fear and...love?
It’s definitely love.
Am I dreaming? I mean this entire day has been one big nightmare. Now more than ever, I’m convinced I got zapped by lightning.
Branson and Clive.
Branson and CLIVE!
As I sit here, I realize it might not be that big of a shock, and it certainly explains a lot—like his long working hours with Clive. And we never have connected on a physical level.
There is only so much one could take, and I think I’ve reached the maximum limit. I might have been able to continue with this loveless marriage, if I hadn’t seen what I did, but that kind of thing can never be unseen or forgotten.
My throat clenches. I’m barely able to speak, but somehow the words croak from my lips. “I gotta get out of here.” I need to be alone. I need to process. Between Nick showing up, and the land deal, and this—I can’t handle this—it’s just too much.
Honestly, all I ever wanted was a quiet life, working my land, watching the stars...This sideshow that has become my normal is bonkers and absolutely unwelcome.
Branson leans over me, covering me with a blanket as he blatantly ignores my panic and helps me up and over to the bed. Clive stands back by the door, watching, unsure of what to do or say.
“Zeta.” Branson kneels beside the bed and takes my hand in his own. “I’m sorry you had to find out this way. I never intended to hurt you.”
A snort escapes followed by sarcastic laughter. “Oh, come on, Branson. You and I both know that this isn’t a real marriage. I’m stunned, to say the very least, but I guarantee you that my feelings are most definitely not hurt.”
Taken aback, a brown tendril of Branson’s hair falls across his forehead. He brushes it aside and rakes his hand through his hair, his handsome face stressed from the strain of worry. He rises and sits on the bed, next to me, leaning his head against mine.
My heart hurts for him, for us. We’ve both lost so much and have gotten everything so horribly wrong. Still, I value his friendship and am thankful for what he’s done for me, for my father’s land.
“What are you going to tell your daddy?” I say, shaking my head.
Mr. Montgomery is about as old school as a man of the South could get. He will most definitely not take kindly to the revelation that his only son is gay. As if my husband didn’t have a bad enough relationship with his daddy.
The pity feels take hold, and I shudder to think what his daddy will say to him. I can’t even imagine, but for the first time in months, I don’t actually care. Their twisted father-son relationship is no longer my problem. Branson shakes as sobs rack his body. I place a consoling hand on his leg and pat it while he breaks down.
Sure, technically, Branson cheated on me, but I’m not upset, not even a little. I feel...light...like a huge weight has been lifted, and I can finally, really and truly breathe.
Clive steps forward and places a hand on Branson’s shoulder. “It’s time, Branson. We can’t keep on like this.”
I rise to leave, forgetting all about my original purpose for visiting Clive. It doesn’t matter because I’m buying that land. I’ll sell my soul to make it happen.
Still lost for words, I leave the cabin, slide back into my boots, and amble towards my pickup. My world has once again flipped upside down, and I’m not really sure how to make it right.
The door to the cabin closes, and I turn to the sound, looking over my shoulder as a smile curves my lips. One wonderfully exciting option, swirls through my mind—the immediate end to this sham of a marriage.