Page 87 of Devious Temptation
This is your moment. Tell her you’ve met someone.
My tongue feels thick in my mouth, unable to form words.
Suddenly, Charlotte laughs. “It’sher, isn’t it? Oh, Lawson. Tell me you aren’t sleeping with her. She’s young enough to be your daughter. For God’s sake, I had a feeling when Rhys told me. She always did strut around in front of you like a little hussy. I never thought you’d lower yourself to fucking a child, though.”
“Do not talk about her like that!” I roar, slamming my fist on the counter, my eruption as good as an admission. “It’s none of your fucking business who I’m sleeping with. Keep Lucy’s fucking name out of your mouth and sign the damn papers when they get there.”
I hang up without waiting to hear what else she has to say, throwing my phone against the wall. It shatters and crashes to the floor. “Fuck!”
A sharp huff has me spinning to see Rhys, wide-eyed, standing stock still on the other side of the kitchen island as if he’s just witnessed a horrific trainwreck.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“Rhys—”
“Tell me you’re not sleeping with Lucy.”
My heart beats so fast against my ribs I fear it answers my son for me.
Rhys looks devastated, not even angry, but completely heartbroken—because ofme, hisfather. And I know his anger will come eventually, and when it does, it will be explosive.
“Dad…” He shakes his head, eyes turning glassy. My heart feels like someone stuck me with a needle and is pumping pure adrenaline straight to the ventricle. “Tell me you’re not fucking my ex-girlfriend.”
“Rhys… it’s… it’s not like that.” I sigh, running a hand through my hair as my own eyes fill with tears. I needed time, but here we are. I can’t lie to him, not when he’s staring me straight in the face.
“Then what is it like?” His words are cold and calm, and that terrifies me more than his anger.
Just tell him. He’ll understand… eventually. He loved her once. He’ll get it. Right?
“I love her, Rhys.” My voice shakes, the words coming out barely above a whisper.
“She’s half your age!” His rage bubbles just beneath the surface, and the tears in his eyes burn up with fury as his hands clench into fists.
“I know.” I hold my hands up, trying to calm him down as I take a step toward him. “I know, Son. But?—”
“But nothing! You think I don’tknowwhat you did when you were in New York?” He points out the window as if pointing to the state itself. “You think Mom doesn’t know? And if that weren’t bad enough, you came home and started fucking my ex-girlfriend?” He tangles his hands in his hair. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
My brows furrow, confusion going off like a bomb in my brain. “What do you mean, you know what I did in New York? Rhys, what has your mother been telling you?”
Irritation prickles my skin. Charlotte and her goddamn meddling. She’s twisted Rhys’ opinion of me so much, I don’t know why I hoped he’d listen to anything I say. She wouldn’t know shit about what I did in New York. All of my indiscretions occurred at the club, whichhas air-tight security. Anything Charlottethinksshe knows is pure bullshit she spun up in her wine-drunk brain.
My son looks like he’s about to go into hysterics. “Look, Rhys. I know you think I’m a terrible father?—”
“Lucy told me last night that she was seeing someone.” He gives me his back, mumbling to himself more than talking to me. “She looked me straight in the eye and told me how happy she was.”
I can’t help the spark of warmth that ignites in my chest, but it quickly diminishes as he whirls back around to face me. “Fuck you both.”
He sounds so fucking broken. I didn’t think my heart could shatter any further than it already had in the past twelve hours, but hearing him sound so utterly destroyed by my betrayal guts me.
I start to walk around the island, but he holds his hand up to stop me.
“I know you didn’t want me. I know how much of a burden I was to you and Mom, but I never thought youhatedme,” he says through a fresh wave of tears.
Horrified, I reach for him, dread filling every crack and crevice in my chest. “Rhys, I don’t hate you.”
He pushes me off him, turning to walk back to his room. “Well, I fucking hate you!”
I try to stop him, but he whips around to face me instead. Pain blooms across the side of my face as his fist connects with my cheek.
