Page 8 of Mr. Kelly

The scene alarms me, but the words infuriate me. “I don’t have a fucking mistress.” I grab her by her shoulders and force her to look at me. “You know that. Why in the hell would I make both of you breakfast and let you listen to her tale of woe if I was fucking her?”

“So you can ask me that question.”

I shake her a little because I’m annoyed, and I need her to hear what I’m saying. “Helena, I’ve never given you a reason not to trust me. There is, however, a saying about a guilty mind. Is there somethingIneed to know?”

Her mouth falls open. “Don’t you dare blame this on me!”

“Blame what on you? Your delusions? This morning is the longest I’ve ever seen River. I love you with everything I have, yet you act like it’s not enough! What do you want from me?”

I didn’t come here to yell at her, but she’s driving me insane. She had been pulling away, yet I’m somehow the bad guy. My breathing is labored from my heart racing. Taking a deep breath, I step back and let her go.

“Talk to me, Helena. You cannot blame our problems on someone you just met.”

“Yes, I can because the writing has been on the wall. I’m not enough for you anymore. You don’t talk about how much you love me anymore. It’s not about me as a person but what I can do for you. You want me to be a fucking incubator, but what about me?”

Her hair is down and shakes with each word. I fold my arms, because if she were a man, we’d fight.

“What do you mean ‘what about you?’ This has been the Helena Show since the moment we met. We do everything in favor of your career. I go to every event for you and am front row at every opening night. I’ve given public speeches about my love for you, and I refrain from talking about myself too much at your events. You haven’t been to any of my events for any of my businesses. There’s always an excuse. I never minded because as a man in love, my goal was to keep my wife happy. I’ve put everything on hold for you. I could have had children with some other woman with half the effort if that's what you’re talking about. I do these things because I fucking love you. Creating a family is supposed to be an EXTENSION of our love, not the only fucking reason I got married. Are you fucking insane? I’ve allowed you to lead this relationship.”

“Allowedme to lead?” she repeats like I’m the crazy one.

The temper that I’ve worked so hard at keeping at bay begins to seep out of my pores. “Yes. Allow. FuckingALLOW.Can you beat me in a fight?” I step closer to her with each question. “Do you know how and where to hide bodies? Are you richer than me? DO YOU THINK YOU HAVE MORE POWER?” I’m in her face and I know I’m fuming.

She looks terrified because I’ve never lost my temper like this with her. Helena has been dancing on my patience and playing my nerves like a violin. She took the love I have for her as a green light to do whatever the fuck she wants, but I’ve had enough.

“I don’t talk about how much I love you anymore because you’ve been getting on my nerves lately. It’s my fault, I didn’t set the proper boundaries. Love obviously means two different things to us. You’ve taken my love for you to mean that you somehow caught me by the balls. I’m not some neutered little puppy at your fucking feet. Cut the temper tantrum short. Put your shit back where it belongs, and the next time I see you, you will talk to me like a civilized adult. Am I clear, Helena?”

She bursts into tears with her face turning red. I’m not a threat to her, but I’m over allowing her to think I’m a doormat just because I choose not to engage in unnecessary fights.

“Let me be clear. I want you and our marriage, but if you want to end it, say it like an adult. I don’t need to line up another woman just to say goodbye to you. That’s not how I operate. If you think you’re going to accuse me of nonsense, then pack your bags to leave with the notion that, somehow, you’ve been a perfect wife and I’ve just shitting it all the way, it’s not happening. You can kiss my ass if you think that’s where this is going.” Leaning down. I kiss her forehead. “Good luck at your opening night, but I won't be there. Maybe you’ll understand how I felt all the times you were a no show.”

It’d hurt like hell if she files for divorce, but I’d sign it. I’m not programmed to keep trying to stay where I’m not wanted. Especially not when I’m almost forty-two and still want to be a father more than anything.

Her sniffles fade the farther I walk away from her. There would have been a time when seeing her cry like that would have gutted me, but she is too spoiled with getting her way exactly the way she wants it all of the time. At this point, she’d compete with the kids for presents instead of being my partner.

That sinking feeling that Andrea is right and she’s wasting my time comes back full force. Even if she was and came clean, I’m not sure that our marriage could survive that blow. I hate liars and that’d mean the love of my life is the biggest one I know.

Chapter Five

RIVER

I haven’t heardfrom Mr. Kelly since he left, and Andrea wasn’t here much longer. Around noon, a grocery delivery service appeared with enough food to stock the pantry and refrigerator. I’d just finished putting everything where I thought it belonged when a courier appeared with items from the list I gave Mr. Kelly. Underwear, a few basic outfits, and hair products. I’d hoped it would be something that Andrea could solve before the day is out, but it looks like I have a week's worth of stuff here.

They must be planning to hunt down Mario. Andrea took my phone on his way out and left me with a burner flip phone. It’s for emergencies and only has his and Theodore’s phone numbers. Plopping down on the couch, I release what feels like my hundredth sigh. When I left Atlanta to pursue my dream, I didn’t think it’d land me in the penthouse of my boss—whose wife hates me—while I hide out from a thug who my ex owes. It’s an entire mess.

I made a sandwich for lunch, but my mind is still uneasy. The television doesn’t hold my interest so I decide to participate in the most time-consuming activity I can think of in an immaculate house. Laying out the products, I’m happy todiscover he’d gotten things from my wish list as well. There were two lists: the basics and the ultimate list. In the ultimate list, there were things I could use to silk press my hair if need be. Sometimes I like to straighten it to see how long it’s gotten and now is the best time to do so. I spend the next few hours cleaning, deep conditioning, and straightening my hair. I know there are quicker ways, but I use the silk press method because if I’m going to take the time to straighten it, I expect it to stay that way for a few days.

The sun is setting, and my stomach is growling by the time I finish the process. My hair now falls mid back and it’s weird to have it flowing. I’m used to the puff, so I shiver every time it brushes the back of my neck. I look in the mirror at the shiny, black tresses and consider putting them up. Tilting my head from left to right, I change my mind. I didn’t do all this work for nothing. Forgetting it was taken away, I spend at least five minutes looking for my phone before I realize that I will not be snapping pictures and posting them on the internet today.

Instead of getting upset, I focus on what I can control. The kitchen is beautiful and a stark reminder that I may never be able to own one like it. It has a low-profile design with the refrigerator and cabinets being flush with the wall but still boasts a lot of space. I find salmon, orange juice, soy sauce, and ginger in the refrigerator. I make a sauce for the salmon with the ingredients and let it marinade for a bit while I prepare the fresh green beans and put the potatoes on the boil. If my mom taught me nothing else, it was how to feed myself.

The potatoes and the green beans cook while I pan sear both sides of the salmon filets, then put them to finish in the oven. I hum to myself since I don’t know how to use the music, nor do I want to mess with anything unnecessarily.

Butter and heavy whipping cream come out next. The aroma is heavenly as I mash the potatoes and stir until they’re theperfect amount of creamy. I grab the bowl to deposit on the table, but yelp when a figure appears out of nowhere. Mr. Kelly catches the bowl before it turns into a mess and places it on the table for me.

His hair is styled with his signature part but sleeker and out of his face. A classic black and white tux covers his body, but the bow tie dangles open around his neck. I know I accidentally saw him damn near naked, but there is something intimate about seeing him not quite dressed for an event.

“Smells good,” he tells me as his dark blue eyes rake over the scene.

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