Page 57 of The Accidental Wife

Cole

What the fuck is happening?

That was all I could think as I stood in that dark alley watching Shayla storm off. Did she just say she feels worthless when she’s with me? I’ve never done anything to make her feel worthless. My rational side is telling me to let her go and give her time, but something inside of me refuses to let her be. I stare at her retreating back and shake my head before I go after her.

I was worried that something was wrong when she disappeared earlier because it's not like her to leave without a word. Even the text messages she sent me were frosty and direct. I can only imagine what she must have thought overhearing that conversation with Sophie, but she really did get it all wrong. Was a small part of me hoping to get a reaction out of Sophie when she found out I was married? Yes it did. I loved her with all my heart, and she broke me when she just up and left me. I didn’t do this to get her back or get one over on her. It just went in that direction through no fault of my own. I can’t lie though, it did please me a little to see her so worked up over Shayla.

When she kissed me, I was shocked, to say the least. Did I kiss her back? Maybe a little, but only out of habit. I spent three years with Sophie. Her lips, smell, and kiss brought so many memories and feelings back for me. I do miss her. She is essentially the perfect girl for me. The brief conversation we had after the kiss has got me all confused.

I pull away from the kiss before it got too deep and took a step back from her. Sophie watches me confused, her blue eyes looking at me forlornly.

“Soph,” I sigh and rub the back of my neck, “You shouldn’t have done that. I’m happily married, and you’re engaged to Derrick.”

Sophie sighs and tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, “Tristan, I had to see if there’s still something there between us, and there is. You kissed me back, which means you’re not over me either.” She explains, taking a step toward me, and I shake my head and retreat, putting my space between us.

“Soph, stop. That kiss was a mistake. I’m happy with Shayla—”

“You’re lying. If you were genuinely happy and in love with her, you wouldn’t have kissed me back, but you did. I’m the one you want, Tristan. I’m the girl for you. I always have been, not her. Just like you’re the guy for me. Your marriage is a sham. You’re not only lying to yourself, but you’re lying to that poor girl too, and one day you’ll realise that you made a mistake and you’re going to break her heart.” Sophie explains, taking a step toward me. “Deep down, you know as well as I do that, we’re meant to be together.” I watch her as she leans up and kisses my cheek before pulling back and gazing into my eyes. “I still love you, Tris.”

I swallow hard, unable to look away from her eyes. She reaches up and rubs my jaw affectionately, drops a chaste kiss on my lips before pulling away and walking out of my office. I sigh and close my eyes. “Fuck.”

Oh shit. Shayla!

My eyes open, and I look at her desk. She wasn’t there. I walk out of the office and look for her bag and jacket, not there either. She was gone. I feel my stomach tie itself into knots, and I pray she didn’t see what just happened in my office. I grab my keys and walk through the empty office, my eyes darting around for any sign of her. Maybe she was waiting by my car in the parking lot.

I rush out of the elevator as soon as I hit the ground floor and walk over to my car. She’s not there either. She might have gotten bored with waiting and went home. But she would have said something before she left, surely. I get in the car and dial her number, it rings three times, and it goes straight to voicemail. She declined the call. Fuck.

I dial again, and it rings—No answer. I punch the steering wheel. I send a text and wait anxiously for a reply. My phone vibrates, and I feel my heart race when I see her name appear on my screen. I read the text, she’s not coming home, she’s staying with her friends. We text back and forth, and I can tell something is off. She’s being cold, or am I just being paranoid?

She won’t be back the whole weekend, she tells me. I was tempted to drive to her place and see her, but she would think I’m some fixated idiot if there really is nothing wrong. I go home and figure I’d leave her with her girls for a few days. I could use some time alone too.

I had an awful feeling in the pit of my stomach. I don’t know if it was guilt or what, but I couldn’t shake it. I just wanted to see her. The apartment was quiet without Shayla, and I felt a little ache in my chest. I take my tie off and unbutton my shirt as I walk to the kitchen, open the fridge, taking out a bottle of beer. I unscrew the top and toss it on the kitchen island before I walk out onto the terrace. My mind was reeling. I’m confused, and I don’t know what to make of my feelings.

On the one hand, there's Sophie, with who I’ve been in love for over three years, despite the fact she broke my heart. I’m clearly still not over her. And the other hand, I’ve got Shayla, with who I’ve got this undeniable connection. She’s the opposite of everything I want in a partner, but she just makes me feel some type of way when I'm with her. I call her again, and she turns her phone off. Something was wrong.

I sat outside on the terrace, staring out at the city before me as the sky grew darker and darker, trying to discern the chaos in my head. I check my phone for the millionth time and disappointedly sigh when I don’t hear from her. An hour later, my phone rings. I snatch it off the sofa, thinking it was Shayla, and groan when I see it was Josh.

“Josh, I’m really not in the mood. Can we talk later?” I mutter and take a sip of my beer.

“Mate, I’m at Luxe. Shayla’s here with her friends.” I sit up when I hear her name.

“She is?”

“Yeah, she’s had a bit to drink. I’m keeping an eye on her, but I thought you would want to know.” He says, and I bite my lip hard. “She’s looking fire though, bro. Guys are swarming around them.”

“Don’t take your eyes off her. I’ll be there soon.” I tell him and end the call before I go to my room to get changed into a pair of black jeans and a white button-down shirt. She’s perfectly fucking fine, out having a blast by the looks of it. The thought of other guys buzzing around her annoyed the shit out of me.

* * *

It tookme less than an hour to get to the club, the one where we first met. Walking in there brought that night back to me. I scan the club and finally find Josh standing by the VIP area, arms crossed, his eyes narrowed and glued to the dance floor watching something intently. I walk over to him, and he looks at me and juts his jaw to the dance floor. I follow his gaze and see a tall, burly brunette with Shayla, his hand clasped around her arm, and she’s glaring at him. Ah, hell no…

I make my way through the crowd and step behind Shayla just as she pulls her arm out of his hold and tells him she’s not interested. His eyes leer at her openly, and I fist my hands at my side.

“What you got a boyfriend or something?”

“No, she’s got a husband, though,” I say, glaring at him hard. Shayla looks back and up at me. I couldn’t see her reaction because I was glaring daggers at the fucker who dare put his hand on my wife.

“Oh, my bad, I didn’t see no ring.” He claims. I nod and lift her hand, look at the diamond ring on her wedding finger, and look at him.

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