Page 26 of Am I the Only One

“I’ve just been sitting here, worrying about you. When I couldn’t get ahold of you, I thought the worst. That maybe you’d gotten into a car wreck or something.”

“I’m fine. I’m sorry, my phone died, and I left my charger in my car that wouldn’t start, so I got a ride home from one of the staff.”

When I’m close enough, I see the apprehension in his eyes as he looks at me, but I soothe him with lies, saying, “I’m sorry I snapped at you.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

A smile lifts my lips for reasons he’s ignorant to.

“Never better.”

And this is the moment I say goodbye to my good side. Being kind and loyal has only gotten me hurt.

With a sweeping kiss to his cheek, I seal the decision to make the man I once thought as my savior into my enemy.

Carly

The ticking of the antique grandfather clock is the metronome I’ve been pacing to for the past hour. I’ve practically chewed every one of my nails down to the quick. Maniacal ... that’s the best way to describe my current state of mind that has me questioning my sanity.

Am I really considering doing this?

I didn’t sleep at all last night. Lying next to Tripp, I stared at the ceiling as my mind ran rampant, trying to figure out my solution to this situation he’s created for me.

Trying to figure my way out.

Trying to figure what my first step will be.

He slept soundly, barely even shifting his body. I’m furious that he remains solid and content while I’m losing my mind in a panic. My palms ached to slap him—they tingled for it, which only acerbates me to the point of wanting to jump off a cliff, headfirst.

I don’t have a lot of people in my life I can turn to, and I wouldn’t dare ask Margot to get behind the eight ball for my sake. Hell, her husband works as a United States senator. But there is one person I know who just might be desperate enough. I wavered for hours last night when I considered how she could help. I’m still wavering because, even if I just broach the idea with her, she could easily go to the media for a payout, so I have to be very careful about how I present this to her.

I’ve weighed as many options as I could come up with, carefully taking into consideration how to keep my hands clean and not leave any trail that could lead back to me. This isn’t some small-time con to get a few bucks for food. This is severely risky, and the consequences are unimaginable. If I can pull this off, I won’t be forced out of my career and shunned from society. I mean, let’s face it, if word ever got out about my involvement in this, I would lose everything including my integrity. Who the hell would even trust me as their therapist? I have absolutely no fallback but I also have absolutely no other option.

Walking into the formal dining room, I grab a bottle of scotch from the liquor hutch and pour two fingers worth. I’ll take courage from wherever I can, even if it’s from a bottle. With a release of a deep breath, I take a gulp, cringing as the burn makes its way down into the pit of my empty stomach.

Now or never.

I call my office at the university, and after the second ring, Jenny answers.

“Academic advisory office. How can I help you?”

“Jenny, it’s Carly. I need you to pull Emma Ashford’s file and call her to schedule a time for her to meet me at my other office.”

“Your private practice?”

“Yes. I am free all day today, but if she’s busy, schedule at her earliest convenience.”

“All right, let me see what I can do.”

“Just call me back after you get ahold of her, okay?”

“No problem.”

The phone nearly slips from my hand when I end the call. I can’t believe how badly I’m shaking. It’s a vibrant terror I’ve never felt before, and I’m freaking out.

“What the hell am I doing?” I murmur while considering another shot of scotch. Instead, I step over to the French doors that lead out to the grand backyard. I stare out over the bay to where our boat—hisboat—is tied to the dock. It’s the middle of winter, and he’d forgotten to have the crew put it in dry rack storage. A tiny piece of me hopes the haul cracks and the damn thing sinks.

The boat was a gift he’d skillfully bought as a surprise for me, yet it’s in his name and was bought with his money, which makes it protected per the terms of the prenup.

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