Liam What shitty luck, running into this cuntastic parasite after that nice hug with Olivia.
Brielle looks as greedy and calculating as ever, her sharp eyes cataloging everything. Bet
she’s also putting a price tag on it at the same time. Next to her is a visibly pregnant bottle
blonde with dark roots showing. She has a look that Grandma would label “crass nouveau
riche.” No class, no confidence, but somehow came into some money and is desperate to be
recognized and fawned over. Very much like Brielle herself. “Oh, let me see this one.”
Brielle turns back to her friend, then seems to trip, falling backward toward me. I st ep back,
and Brielle falls on her ass. Did she expect me to catch her? These hands are Olivia’s
exclusive property. Sue rushes over. “Are you okay?” “Yeah, I’m fine.” She winces, but
doesn’t complain further. The store has security cameras, and she probably doesn’t want
her transparent ploy aired in front of everyone. She pushes herself up and swings her hair
back. Her mouth purses. Underneath the makeup are dark circles and lines from furrowing
her eyebrows too much. Guess things aren’t going too well for her and Tyler. Karma’s still
alive and well. “Well, I guess somebody’s pregnant,” Brielle says, like the humiliating scene
never happened. I smile thinly. “That’s right. And somebody else isn’t on the baby shower
guest list.” “Really? How sad. I was really looking forward to congratulating Olivia. After all,
she is my sister.” Her voice is sweet, but her eyes remain hard.
“Sisterly love apparently didn’t stop you from stealing her fiancé. But I do have to thank you
for bringing Olivia to me.” The blonde next to her frowns. Brielle’s smile grows brittle, but
she ke eps her chin up. “She’s not worth your devotion. You sure she isn’t playing around
behind your back?” I can feel my eyes narrowing. “Just a little warning. Defaming my wife
carries consequences you won’t be able to handle.” A corner of her mouth twitches. “It’s
only defamation if what I’m saying isn’t true.” Brielle leans forward and lowers her voice.
“She just wants a baby, Liam. The trust doesn’t say it has to be yours.” The fuck? “Oh,
didn’t she tell you? Just let you assume?” Brielle smiles, back in control again. “She only
needs a husband and a baby. If the husband thinks it’s his, great. Makes for better PR, know
what I mean?” She leans forward, letting me see some cleavage. “But it doesn’t have to be.”
“You need to stop projecting, Brielle. It reveals a lot more than you want.” “Whatever. That
baby in her womb isn’t yours. Do I have to be this blunt for you to get it?” She snickers.
“You’ve met that gloomy guy from her company who always tags along after her?” Simon.
“He’s been with her for seven years. A man who looks like the sun rises and sets with her
would never stay around that long without getting something in return. So what’s she
giving him in return?” I clench my teeth. “Probably more than she should give a coworker,
don’t you think?” She reaches into her purse and pulls out a phone. “Look.” On the screen is
a photo of Olivia and Simon at a restaurant. Her dress and his suit—I recognize them. The
clothes they wore on her birthday. She said he took her to lunch. They’re eating and
smiling. Brielle flips to the next picture. Olivia is leaning over the table to reach him. The
camera angle shows her face, all warmth and affection as she has her hand on his chest. A
searing heat starts in my heart, then drops to my gut. “See? Simon doesn’t just fetch her
water and coffee. He takes her out. And he’s young. Fit.” Brielle’s eyes meet mine. “A man
and a woman... alone for so long... Surely feelings develop, especially for a girl so isolated
and lonely. She’s so fucked up in the head, she doesn’t even have any friends, you know?”
Brielle’s eyes sparkle. “To her, people are just tools. You are just a tool. So she can deny her
family what we deserve and steal our money.” Brielle’s whispered words drip into my mind
like drops of acid. She’s spewing poison, I tell myself, but that doesn’t mean it hurts any
less because what she’s saying isn’t all lies. Olivia has been lonely. She purposely k ept to
herself for some unclear reason. Simon’s been an exc eption. Seven fucking years. And she
does hate Hugh, Deena and Brielle. She’d do anything to make them pay. My hands curl
into fists despite myself. “The trust belonged to her mother, not Hugh,” I manage as I
forcibly relax my muscles. “So? Don’t you see the photos? How about this then? Do you
think you fit into this?” She thumbs through her phone until she finds another. “Look at it.
Coming out of a hotel with Simon. This was last Christmas, you know. Does that look
innocent to you? Were you invited to this rendezvous?” She hits play. Olivia is in a blue
dress in the video, and she’s st epping out of the Ritz- Carlton. Unlike her usual self, she
doesn’t look put together, her hair a bit messy, and her lips without the pink tint she always
wears to the office. Simon walks next to her, studying her face, then smooths her hair back
when her chignon comes undone. Sharp bitterness fills my mouth. “It doesn’t matter who
fathers the baby,” Brielle says. “She just needs a husband who looks respectable. Simon’s
not rich enough, just some office drone. Looks sort of sad when she wants to project
absolute victory against her family. Especially when we’ve done nothing wrong.” The urge
to snatch the phone out of Brielle’s hand and smash it on the floor, then cover her mouth to
smother the words swells until it’s almost overwhelming. I cling to control even as I bleed
inside. A public scene with Brielle is the last thing my wife needs. “Tyler didn’t choose to
marry me for no reason, Liam. I’m loyal. Olivia? Well...” Brielle clucks her tongue, then
shrugs. Her friend tugs at her sleeve. “I’ve got everything. Let’s go.” They walk out, Brielle
giving me a final look over her shoulder. A moment later, Sue comes over, studying my
expression. “Are you all right? Do you need help or anything?”
No. I don’t want anything, not right now. But leaving without buying anything feels like a
defeat. I force a smile that hopefully looks somewhat normal. “Could you gift-wrap this
cream and purple onesie for me?” That afternoon, I leave work early and hit the pool hard,
trying to sluice away the filth Brielle left in my mind. But no matter how fast I move in the
water, it lingers. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to forget the pictures, but they’re etched in
my memory. The soft look in my wife’s eyes as she gazed at Simon. The way she walked out
of the lobby with him. How he smoothed her hair as it came undone. It might’ve been
nothing. She might’ve had a meeting there. But my imagination runs wild. A thousand
scenarios, none of them good, sprout like weeds after a rain. I stop at the end of a lap and
run my hands over my face. This type of reaction is exactly what Brielle wants. She’s trying
to damage my relationship with Olivia, to ensure my wife has nobody on her side. If I want
to make our marriage real, I need to trust her. Be the kind of husband she deserves. I expel
a rough breath. Come on. Don’t let trash like Brielle ruin the good thing you have. You have
the love of your life by your side. Olivia comes home on time, climbing out of Simon’s car.
He rushes over to escort her, but I’m faster. “Welcome home, wife.” I paste on a smile that
hurts my cheeks. “What a sight.” She hugs me. “You feel damp. Did you just come out of the
pool?” “Yeah. Needed to clear my head.” “Problem at work?” “Just some stuff. Nothing I
can’t handle.” She nods. “If you want to bounce some ideas around, I’m here.” Her hand
rests right over my heart. It responds, racing helplessly at her touch, even as my head
chills. Did she touch him there too in that restaurant? She turns to Simon. “Thanks for the
ride. See you tomorrow.” He nods and waves. “See you, Olivia.” The fucker doesn’t even
acknowledge me, but then his feelings aren’t any friendlier than mine. Would he have blown
her a kiss if I wasn’t around?
He gets behind the wheel. I dip my head and kiss her hard, knowing he’s watching. My
tongue slips into her mouth, and she loops her arms around my neck. She sucks my tongue,
then pushes hers in. I should trust my wife. Brielle is a viper. The photos and the video ke ep
playing in my head like a slideshow even as I de epen the kiss. You should’ve taken them off
her phone. Checked to see if they’re real or not. Now it’s too late to ask. It’ll look like I
believe that bitch over my wife, and that won’t do. Brielle’s hurt her so much over the years.
I’ll never let Brielle manipulate me into hurting Olivia. Despite my resolve, the vise around
my chest only tightens as the evening progresses. “That crystallized ginger you brought
today is amazing. It’s so much mellower, not at all sharp. I never really liked ginger much,
but...” Olivia gives me a bright smile. I smile back because it’s expected, but the pain in my
chest doesn’t ease. My morning triumph turned to ashes hours ago. That night, holding
Olivia in my arms, I lie awake as my mind unfurls a reel of Simon kissing my wife at the
Ritz-Carlton in an endless loop. When sle ep finally finds me, I dream of a baby girl with
black hair and dark eyes.