Page 27 of A Powerful Attraction
Sherry walked over to the bookcase that spanned an entire wall, filled with hardcover books and pictures and knickknacks. He read widely, or he and Heather did—nonfiction and commercial fiction like thrillers—with books written in English and Spanish.
She scoured the photos, which she’d only paid cursory attention to before. Most were scenic shots from trips he’d taken over the years, but one frame contained a photo of Alex, Rashad, and Heather, and they appeared to be in Colombia, based on the architecture of the buildings. This was the only photo of her on the shelves. Had he simply wiped out all evidence of her existence to perpetuate his adultery?
Sherry’s chest hurt, and she blinked back tears, clamping both hands over her mouth to suppress an anguished whimper. Why hadn’t he told her? This explained why he was such a private person and not a soul at work knew the truth. He needed to hide that he was a married man with an ill wife so he could carry on his affairs.
Nausea bubbled in her stomach. “I’m going to use the bathroom.”
“Dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes.”
Sherry rushed down the hall to the full bath and shut the door, leaning back against it. She took two huge, quivering breaths and waited. Nothing happened. She didn’t throw up.
She sank onto the toilet lid and stared at the wall. She needed to independently verify his marriage. Maybe Helen was wrong.
With that idea in mind, she rummaged through the vanity drawers and checked the medicine cabinet. She found the usual items for men—shaving equipment, a box of condoms, and over-the-counter drugs. Nothing incriminating. No evidence of a woman anywhere.
Not satisfied, she left the bathroom and paused in the hallway to listen as Alex continued moving around in the kitchen. He’d turned on some music, and the sounds of a man singing in Spanish in a mellow voice floated back as he worked.
Sherry carefully crept down the hallway to the spare bedroom, which she had never entered before. She left the door ajar so she could hear if Alex started coming down the hall.
At first glance, she didn’t see anything damning. The sparsely furnished room contained only a bed and a table with a lamp on it. Sheer curtains covered the windows, and a van Gogh print hung on the wall.
She went to the closet and swung open the double doors. She flicked on the light and her heart plummeted. Women’s clothes and shoes filled the walk-in closet. She froze in the doorway, shocked. He’d moved all Heather’s personal belongings in here. How callous.
“What are you doing?”
Sherry spun around to face Alex. A frown marred his brow. They stared at each other. “Are you going to make me ask?”
His jaw tightened. “Ask what?”
“Who do these clothes belong to?”
“Sherry…”
Cold with the knowledge that her heart was about to be shattered, Sherry shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. “Do these clothes belong to your wife? Is Heather your wife?”
His eyes pleaded with her. “I can explain.”
No, no.Up until that moment, she’d held out hope that maybe she was wrong. This was all a big misunderstanding easily cleared up with a logical explanation she’d simply overlooked. All he’d had to say was no, but he hadn’t.
“What is there to explain? You’re married, Alex. You’remarried, and we’ve been sleeping together for the past few weeks. And even worse, your wife is lying in the hospital sick, and you’re using me and probably other women to satisfy your twisted lust because she’s no longer available. What happened to the words for better or worse, in sickness and in health?”
His eyes widened. “There are no other women, and if you let me explain, you’ll understand what all of this means.”
He took a step forward, and she sidestepped away from the closet door so she wouldn’t get trapped in the interior.
“There is nothing to explain,” she said slowly.
“My relationship with Heather is not what it seems. Yes, she’s my wife, but in name only.”
Sherry laughed shrilly. “Oh well, that makes it okay, then. Carry on cheating on your wife, but you won’t be doing it with me.” She barged toward the door, but he stepped back and blocked her path. “Get out of my way, Alex.”
“Not until you hear me out.” He held up his hands, hesitant to touch her but determined to keep her from leaving.
“What could you possibly say to make what you’ve done okay? You lied to me! You’re not a free man.”
“In the traditional sense, Iamfree, but technically, no. Heather and I got married because of her illness. She’s been in and out of the hospital for the past couple of years. The first few months were crazy, and we thought she would die—me and Rashad. We didn’t know what to do or how to help her. I don’t remember who got the idea of getting married first—me or Rashad—but we thought it would work because she needed better treatment. I married her and put her on my insurance so she could get the care she needed.”
Sherry folded her arms across her chest. “And I’m supposed to believe what you say?”
