Page 130 of Muddy Messy Love

Cole stays mute as I enter, his gaze downcast and locked on his shoes like that of a boy stuck in timeout. Never have I seen him so rattled or small. As he shrinks, so does the room. I stop in front of him. “You do know him,” I say as my grip on the tree falters. It’s a statement, not a question, but the acid swirling in the pit of my stomach tells me it’s true. “You lied.”

Cole winces, then lifts his eyes to meet mine. A cocktail of remorse, guilt, and fear swim in their jade-coloured depths. They speak of a betrayal far worse than one measly lie, but I refuse to process or connect the jumble of clues. Ignorance will sustain our bliss—denial our last shred of happiness—for one more minute, at least.

I float past him as if I’m levitating through the ether and no longer connected to my body.

Cole tugs on the hem of my daisy-dotted blouse. “Aves,” he whispers desperately.

Self-preservation begs me to resist his plea, but Cole’s touch is my oxygen, his warmth a firelit cave in a blizzard, and his love the lush green earth beneath my feet. Without him, I’ll evaporate—dissolve into perpetual darkness, untethered. So I fall into his arms and melt like chocolate, longing to hide in his soul. He holds me against his chest fiercely with one hand locked in myhair, planting kisses on my crown, and I breathe him in, allowing his scent to soothe the agony he’s caused. “I’m so sorry, Angel. I wanted to tell you. Please forgive me. I had no choice.”

“Don’t speak,” I whisper. “It hurts.”

Cole’s admission of guilt is a guillotine blade hanging above our heads like mistletoe, but still, I cling to denial, desperate to stop it from falling.

“Well, well. This is starting to make more sense.” Thomas tuts. “Hell, Cole, I didn’t pay you to fuck her.”

The blade drops between us, severing our connection in the blink of an eye like it had no roots or resilience to begin with. My breath hitches as my heart implodes and sucks my essence into a dead black hole. In the space between seconds, I disappear.

Cole’s shoulders slump and his arms fall away as he squeezes his eyes shut. I slowly back away from him as tears stream down my cheeks. The ache, throb, and burn I felt after Beth’s perceived betrayal is magnified by ten. I’m not an empty husk—there is no husk—and the Jenga tower has gone.

Horrified, I dart my gaze between the man I love and the one who created me. Both are the reason I breathe; now both are the reason I can’t.

Thomas reclines in Cole’s chair, stretches out his legs on top of the desk, and crosses his feet at the ankles. He wears pointy tan leather oxfords with fun polka-dot socks. Another lie. There’s nothing fun about him.

“Can someone tell me what the hell is going on?” My voice quivers and doesn’t register as mine. It’s like I’m listening from afar or watching a play from the sky about some dumb girl’s imminent demise.

“Don’t look to Cole for answers,” Thomas says, clasping hands behind his head. “You won’t get any. Client-attorney privilege and all that.”

I stare at Thomas. “You enlighten me, then.”

The side of his mouth kicks up, but not in a friendly way. “Well, it’s really quite simple. Gerard and I had this little situation”—he nods his chin towards me—“well under control, until he went and died, and you went and got arrested. I might be able to spin a love child if it ever came to light, but a criminal love child is another beast. I enlisted Cole to quash the charges and keep you squeaky clean. You can thank me now if you like.”

I snap my gaze to Cole. “Is that true?”

Cole’s jaw clenches as he wrestles to loosen his favourite emerald tie. His face is clammy, his breathing harsh, and it’s all the confirmation I need. “No,” I whisper as pain slices through my chest like I’ve been dissected with a machete. “This isn’t you.”

Seemingly unaffected, Thomas continues, but his words are muffled like they’re travelling through fog en route to my ringing ears. But I hear enough. Every vomit-worthy claim.

One.

Sheila’s been paid handsome hush money every year since my birth, right up until I finished high school late last year.

Two.

Cole didn’t appear thanks to Beth’s connections—it was no fortuitous twist of fate. Cole was paid to intervene, and Beth was his way in. But he took it even further. He hired and fucked me too.

Three.

An eye was kept on me since I was old enough to cause Thomas any trouble, courtesy of Benedict Kane and their band of merry PIs…until Cole essentially took their place.

And four.

Thomasisa nasty, manipulative arsehole, just like Sheila said. In fact, they seem perfect for each other.

I sink to the zigzag chevron floor as my knees buckle. I guess it all makes sense. Sheila never wanted me to skip year ten atschool, since it meant less money for her. And Cole—his help wasn’t free at all.

My throat constricts as if locked in a noose, and I can’t breathe. I’ve been played again. Tricked. Used. Deceived like the clueless, stupid, naïve little girl I am. How could I believe out of all the women on earth, Cole would chooseme—loveme? I was a job, a pay cheque with benefits, and a gullible pawn in a sadistic game. And what’s worse, that little voice in my gut tried to warn me our lopsided pairing made no sense. Yet I ignored it.

I gasp for air as a tsunami of doom hurls me away. Footsteps smack against the floor, charging towards me. “Aves.”

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