Page 64 of Loving the CEO

"Just don't go into the guest bedroom," he repeated.

"Got it. Wouldn't touch it with a ten-foot pole," I said. "Honestly, I don't understand why I ever thought it would work between us, but whatever."

I swallowed hard, stepping to one side.

"Don't take longer than until lunch." He started out the door, then added, “I left the paperwork on the kitchen counter. Sign it, and don’t try to do anything funny or I’ll be after you for breach of contract.”

That shouldn’t be a problem, considering I wanted out of this deal as much as he did. I realized I’d better get moving because the last thing I wanted was to run into his mistress.

Well, I guess she's his girlfriend now, not his mistress. Ugh.

He closed the door so forcefully that I feared it may fall off its hinges. I exhaled slowly and felt the tension leave my body. God, being in his presence just had me on edge in a way I hadn't anticipated. Putting a hand on my chest, I sat on the couch and took in a deep breath, hoping to calm myself.

A few minutes later, I ran upstairs.

Walter had already put a huge suitcase on the bed. Good. All I had to do was fill it up.

A little over an hour later, all of my belongings were in that suitcase. He’d taken all his clothes and moved them, which made it that much easier to pack.

The only other things I left behind were my wedding dress and shoes. The dress was hanging in the closet, mocking me along with my white satin shoes.

Once I zipped up the bag, I sat on the bed, drawing in a deep breath. I was exhausted. I should have had some coffee before coming here.

I bit my lip, glancing at the vanity table I’d bought right when we moved in. A wave of sadness rolled over me. I couldn’t believe I’d wasted so many years with Walter. But there was no need to cry over spilled milk. What was done was done. I was looking forward to the next phase in my life. And coming back to the city cemented the fact that my future was definitely not here in New Orleans.

I took out my phone, intending to order an Uber, but honestly, I needed a bit of love, so I called Debbie instead.

"I'm already done," I said instead of hello.

"Wow, you’re fast."

"It was easy.”

"I can be in front of the house in about fifteen minutes."

"That works."

"Want a po' boy?"

"Oh my God, yes. Beef, please. I've missed them."

"I'm on my way," she said in a cheerful voice.

I was feeling much better already. Spending some time with my friend was exactly what I needed.

After hanging up, I dragged my huge suitcase out of the bedroom. I eyed the guest bedroom for a few seconds. I had no idea what possessed me to do it, but I let go of the suitcase and walked over.

When I opened the door, my jaw dropped. I’d expected the room to be filled with Walter’s stuff, but it wasn’t. There was a lady’s suit on the bed and three pair of heels by the window. My stomach leaped to my throat. He’d said she was staying here, but seeing it made it worse. I know Debbie initially said she’d thought they were living at her house, but now I knew for sure.

It doesn’t matter, Tory. Not at all.

I immediately stepped out, closing the door. I didn’t need to see more.

I went down the staircase carefully so I wouldn't break my neck, but by the time I reached the bottom, I was pretty sure I’d thrown out my back. I leaned forward and backward, and it made a loud and ominous crack. Then I leaned to my right and my left.

Crack. Crack. Crack.

Well, shit.

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