Total pages in book: 155
Estimated words: 156029 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 780(@200wpm)___ 624(@250wpm)___ 520(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 156029 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 780(@200wpm)___ 624(@250wpm)___ 520(@300wpm)
I’ll never forget the look on his face that night, the pure devastation. I felt sick about it for weeks, and what made it worse was that she kept calling me, wanting to meet up. She had absolutely no remorse.
I put myself in his shoes now and imagine how it would feel if I walked in and saw another man having sex with Charlotte.
I couldn’t cope. I would completely lose my shit.
I open the door and his face comes into view. He’s tall and good looking, similar looking to Edward but with a softer edge and more refined. I don’t remember much about that night, but I remember his face. How could I ever forget it?
“Spencer,” he says flatly.
He doesn’t want to be here either, it’s obvious.
“Hi.” I hold out my hand. “Please, come in.”
He walks past me and into the apartment.
“Do you want a drink or anything?” I ask. “What would you like?”
He shrugs. “Whatever you’re having.”
I inhale deeply and pour two glasses of scotch. I hand him one.
He takes a sip. “So, you fucked my wife,” he says calmly.
I nod. “Yes.”
His cold eyes hold mine. “That’s it? That’s all you can say?”
“Nothing I can say would ever make up for that.”
He inhales sharply and walks to the windows to stare out over the city, deep in thought.
I have no idea what to say, so I remain silent.
“How many times?” he asks with his back to me.
“Three occasions.”
He turns back to look at me, and I know the real question he wants answered.
“Many times on those three occasions,” I admit shamefully.
He turns back to stare out of the window.
“Can I ask you something?” I say. “Why didn’t you leave her?”
“It would have been easier to.”
“Why did you stay?”
“I have a son.” He drains his glass. “I don’t want to take him away from his mother, but then I don’t want to leave him with her, either.” He walks over and refills his glass. “The only way I can assure his future is to stay with her until Harrison is older.”
I frown as I watch him. He seems strangely detached from all this. “Do you love her?”
“I did.”
“Not anymore?”
“Love and I don’t mix, Mr Jones.” He looks up at me. “I learnt that lesson the hard way.”
“Does she know this? Does she know you don’t love her?”
“Yes.”
“Then why does she stay?” I frown. “I’m confused.”
He narrows his eyes as if it pains him to say it out loud. “I think we both know why she stays.”
The money.
I drop my head as disappointment on his behalf fills me.
“I’m sorry. I know you don’t believe me when I tell you this, but I thought she was divorced, and I knew her as Stephanie. I had no idea when I met Charlotte that she was your wife… or that you were Charlotte’s brother.” He smiles as he stares out of the window.
I frown. “What’s to smile about?”
“I always blamed you for our demise—blamed myself, blamed everyone but her when, deep down, I knew the truth. A month ago, another doctor at the hospital I work with told me he met a woman called Stephanie on the Ashley Maddison dating site… the one for married people to have secret affairs. They’d been sleeping together for a while.” He scowls lightly. “I had a sixth sense go off and I asked to see a picture of her.”
I close my eyes. Fuck.
“You can imagine my surprise when I see an image of my own wife, all messed up and just fucked, asleep in his bed. She had no idea that the image was even taken.”
“Jesus Christ.” I tip my head back and drain my glass. This is un-fucking-believable.
“I have lawyers tightening the prenups as we speak. She doesn’t know that I know about my work colleague. He doesn’t even know she’s my wife. Every time we argue, she threatens to take Harrison. I can’t risk that.” He sips his drink. “I have to wait until all my ducks are in a row.”
“And when will that be?”
“That’s where I need your help.”
“What?” I ask.
He turns to me. “You can testify.”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“You can testify for me in a court of law that you slept with her while she was married to me.”
“Jesus Christ, you can’t ask me to do that. It would kill Charlotte,” I whisper. “The tabloids would go into overdrive.”
“They already are, and I need proof that Penelope is an adulterer or my prenup is void.”
“What do you mean?’
He smiles. “I was so stupidly in love with this woman I wavered the prenup.” I close my eyes.
“The only stipulation that voids me giving her half of my estate is her infidelity.”
I stare at him.
“I don’t really fancy giving her two billion dollars, Spencer.” He smirks as if amused. “It’s not like she deserves it.”