05

White hot fury surged through me and I seized it instead.

Before I could think better of it, I found myself striding down the hallway and flinging the bedroom door open, as ready as a missile launcher loaded, cocked and aimed.

But my target was sprawled on the bed, curled on his side, wearing nothing but a pair of gray boxer briefs, his damp, dark hair gleaming from the low light of the bedside lamps.

He was breathing deeply, his lips parted and his dark lashes feathered against the sharp planes of his cheeks.

He must’ve been so tired he just dropped unconscious on the bed.

That’s what you pay for a sex marathon with your mistress and your wife.

My teeth ground together in barely suppressed anger, my fists clenching before I remembered that I was wrinkling the card in my hand.

Get up, Brandon. Get up and fight me until I can’t feel anything anymore.

No words or sound came out of my mouth though.

I stood there, gazing at his sleeping form, half-ready to bring the house down on him and half-aching to tuck the sheets around him so he wouldn’t be cold.

A sound confused between a snort and a groan finally escaped my lips as I shook my head in disgust.

This was what I had been reduced to—a voiceless victim still tempted to offer what was left of her hacked off limbs to the man slaughtering her.

With slow, unsure steps, I walked toward the bed, gazing down at my husband—the same man who’d told a four-year-old girl an hour ago that he loved me the most in the world, and who’d savagely made love to me like a man about to go off to war at daybreak.

The card was damnably incriminating.

Every insecurity I’d managed to keep at bay in the recesses of my heart and mind surged in like a pestilence, eating away at any remaining shred of hope I was stubbornly trying to cling to.

Brandon wouldn’t lie to Rose, would he ? He couldn’t really possibly be carrying on an affair with some woman he apparently has a son with, could he ? He won’t deceive you like that.

My heart clenched painfully.

Unfortunately, deception was something he and I were equally skilled at—our marriage was proof of that.

He’d managed to fool his father whom he has the greatest affection and respect for. Would it really be that hard for him to do the same to me ?

I remembered him laughing off my question when I once asked in the beginning of our scheme, if he had any children I should know about. He’d easily claimed he didn’t but would he really admit he’d fathered a child if he wouldn’t acknowledge him ?

‘It’s an old war I’m fighting, Charlotte.’ That’s what he’d said. Maybe he was disputing the child’s paternity.

Knowing Brandon and his soft spot for children though, I couldn’t imagine him being cold and cruel like that to his own child.

Maybe it really isn’t his and this Nicole is just foisting the boy on him for child support. Who better to fund your kid than a billionaire Dad ?

I slowly opened the card again and studied the boy’s sweet face, noting some similarity in the bone structure. And of course, the hazel eyes.

He was a cute and happy-looking boy. Even if he weren’t his flesh and blood, how could Brandon resist such an angel ? I know I wouldn’t.

I sighed and slid the card back into the envelope, pressing my knuckles against my pursed lips as I debated what to do next.

A part of me was calling out for blood and another was doing a pep rally for Brandon’s trustworthiness—with cartwheels and handstands.

L desperately wanted to believe that this was just a badly written twist in the plot where a misconception gets blown out of proportion. It wouldn’t be as unsalvageable as the possibility that Brandon had lied to me outright and carried on with his baby mama.

Sure, you both schemed and lied. You’re just as guilty of it as he is. Does that make you completely incapable of the truth then ? Do a few mistakes define you for the rest of your life ?

“Oh, Brand,” I whispered, blinking as a few hot tears spilled down my cheeks. “Will our lies forever haunt us ?”

Deciding that I wasn’t one to pass on judgement without giving him a fair chance at explaining himself, I slipped the card back into the jacket pocket and draped the discarded garment on the back an armchair.

No matter how hard, show the same mercy you wish to be granted. When it’s your turn to plea guilty, Charlotte, wouldn’t you want a sympathetic jury ?

It would be so easy to give in and let my rioting emotions flood the banks. It would be so easy to destroy the very best thing that happened to me with a few angry words.

You both have black marks on trust. Your redemption starts with someone taking a risk to trust you again. Be that someone for him, Charlotte. He deserves it.

Not knowing where the courage came from, I endured throughout the night—curled up in bed next to Brandon, unable to sleep, fighting tears, and wondering whether the memories we shared were lies or truths.

If a lie could be this beautiful, Charlotte, would you live it ? Or would you rather have the truth even if it means losing Brandon ?

When sleep eventually claimed me, I still had no answers.

I felt like someone waiting on death row—dreading the final hour but anticipating my freedom from the endless wait.

I’d resolved to give Brandon a chance to explain but he was gone by the time I got up the next day. It was the first time we hadn’t woken up and eaten breakfast together since we got married.

While I’d admit it was rather late when I got up after the fitful sleep that eventually came over me, the coincidence made me more uneasy.

I was trapped.

I wanted answers and advice but the only person I could talk to about it wasn’t around. I didn’t want to go to Brandon’s family and ask them.

For one, I’d feel really pathetic being his wife and being the last to know about any of this. Second, if this was supposed to be a secret for a really good reason, I didn’t want to jeopardize it by nosing around, especially with a little boy’s welfare at stake.

After I did all my duties with Felicity, who was helping me become self-reliant in managing my social responsibilities since she was going back to school this fall for her masters, I took the kids out for lunch and then to the park for a couple of hours.

Normally, I would enjoy every moment of my time playing with them but my heart was tight as if a fist clenched around it, and my mind kept wandering off to Brandon’s secret family.

I told myself not to make assumptions yet but while I tossed a frisbee around with Mattie and Rose, I kept thinking all kinds of things—just like someone suffering from sores couldn’t help but pick at them until they bled further.

Did Brandon hold his baby in his arms when he was first born ?