Page 65 of Beginnings By the Sea

I screeched to a stop in front of Cohen’s house just as he threw the last of his bags into the trunk of his expensive sports car. He didn’t even bother turning around. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest as I got out of my car and marched over to him.

“Did you think I was going to let Nyla get the last word in?” I snarled. Cohen huffed and turned around to face me. His right eye was swollen with a deep purple bruise surrounding it; Nyla had hit him hard. “You think you can get away with what you did?” I seethed.

His eyes were cold as he crossed his arms and tilted his head defiantly. “I knew you’d show your face here at some point. What you’re not going to get is an apology from me. I’m not sorry for anything I did.”

Fury ripped through me and my fists clenched at my side. “You tried sabotaging my marriage years ago, asshole! What the hell is wrong with you? Where in your messed up brain would you ever think that’s okay?”

Cohen shrugged, his expression disinterested. “I know what I want, and I was going to do anything to get it.”

I shook my head in disgust. “You keep playing these games, trying to get what you want, but you never win. Just take a look at your face right now.”

Cohen’s glare intensified, but I didn’t back down. “Get out of here, Miles,” he spat.

I balled my hands into tight fists, rage coursing through my veins as I stepped forward. Cohen tried to turn away, but I grabbed his collar and shoved him against his car. His eyes widened in surprise, then quickly clouded with anger. He grabbed my wrist and tried to pull me away, but I held him in an iron grip.

“I’m not going anywhere until you say you’re not going to bother me or Nyla again.”

His face contorted into a sneer of defiance. “Get the hell off me!”

“Say it!” I shouted, tightening my hold on his wrist.

He stared at me for a long moment before throwing up his arms in surrender, breaking out of my hold. “Dammit, I’m leaving. I don’t plan on coming back to this small ass town again. I’m not going to waste my time on you or her.”

I shoved him away and he staggered back against his car, head bouncing off the metal frame.

“Good. Now get out of here. I don’t ever want to see you again. And if you try any more bullshit, I’ll fly right up to New York and make you regret it.”

But, of course, Cohen still wasn’t done goading me. A sly smirk spread across his face as he straightened his shirt.

“You say I lost, but how does it feel to know I had your wife?” He raised an eyebrow in challenge and his grin grew wider. “For a whole month, she was mine.”

My vision blurred with red as fury surged within me and without another thought, my right arm flew forward and connected with Cohen’s jaw before he could even blink. His head snapped back from the force of the impact, and he stumbled backward, trying to catch himself but failing as he tumbled to the ground. He groaned in pain as he lay there motionless, then slowly rose to his feet with a menacing glare that promised retribution.

“She was never yours,” I growled through gritted teeth, pointing an accusing finger at him. “She’s always been mine.”

With those final words, I got in my car and left, happy that I had given him a parting gift. His left eye was going to match his right.

32

NYLA

3 WEEKS LATER

So much had happened in the past three weeks. First, Freddy bought back his surf shop from Cohen, which was a relief because we knew Cohen wouldn’t have a reason to return since he didn’t own it anymore.

The paparazzi had a field day with everything that had happened. It was called a scandalous love triangle between New York’s most eligible bachelor, the small-town doctor who captured his heart, and the jealous cousin who stole her away.

A couple of weeks ago, I felt like I was in the calm before the storm; I was right. One of the things I didn’t want from being in a relationship with Cohen was the craziness of the paparazzi. Let me tell you . . . it got wild and absolutely ridiculous.

Miles and I had just one night of peace before everything blew up around us. Reporters pretended to be sick so they could get an appointment with me at the clinic. They wanted my side of the story, but I didn’t care to elaborate. So, instead, the tabloids made Cohen seem like a victim of a broken heart, which was fine with me. All that mattered was that I knew the truth. Miles and I had to deal with the mess for about two weeks. Thankfully, the paparazzi grew somewhat bored with us when they realized no other scandalous things were going on.

However, on the other hand, Cohen didn’t suffer at all. He got the attention he wanted and was reaping the benefits. I saw a video clip on the internet of him walking through Times Square, and so many women were throwing themselves at him, saying they could heal his heart. Unfortunately, Miles and I were viewed as the villains.

“Want another piece of cake?” Miles asked, chuckling lightly as I scooped the last bite onto my fork and devoured it.

Even though I probably could’ve eaten another piece, I knew I shouldn’t. One of the things I loved about attending weddings was the cake. I slid my plate to the side and pursed my lips at him. Miles was extremely good-looking in his tux with his blond hair perfectly coifed. I’d watched him stand with Luke as he said his wedding vows to his new bride; it brought back so many memories of my wedding day.

“No, I’m good. Might as well leave some for other people.”

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