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Room 4 Rent: A Steamy Romantic Comedy

Page 18

by Shey Stahl


  “Thank you so much! I really appreciate this.”

  “No problem.” Leaving the clubhouse, I jog across the parking lot and regret it instantly when my head starts throbbing.

  There’s a pause again before Sydney asks, “How’s your face?”

  “It’s fine. I could use some tender loving care though,” I hint, starting my car.

  She laughs. “I’ll see you later this afternoon. I’m not sure how long this is going to take. Tatum will probably be hungry when you get her, so there’s chicken nuggets in the freezer. And—”

  “Sydney,” I interrupt.

  “Yeah?”

  “I can handle a three-year-old for an afternoon.”

  “I know. Thank you. I’ll call you when I’m done.”

  She hangs up, and I get the text with Sadie’s number. She tells me to meet her at the house, so I do.

  Tatum’s in the family room watching Frozen. No surprise there.

  Sadie gasps when she sees me. “Duuuuuude, your face!”

  Right. Forgot about that for a minute. “It’s not that bad.” I roll my eyes, setting my bag on the floor next to the back french doors I’ve been in and out of the last couple of weeks, and usually in the middle of the night.

  “Uh, yeah, it is.”

  “Think Syd likes a man with battle wounds?” Fuck. Why’d I ask that? Dammit. I shouldn’t have.

  Sadie laughs. “Boy, you got it bad for my sister, don’t you?”

  “Sadly,” I mumble.

  “Hang in there, slugger.” She reaches for her cell phone on the kitchen island. I smirk, thinking of me fucking her sister on it. “I have to go. Can I trust you with her?”

  I lift my eyes to hers. “Who are you referring to? Because you’re pointing to Tatum, but I think you mean Syd.”

  She doesn’t correct me.

  I chew on the inside of my cheek, my heart thumping faster than before. “I’m not going to break her heart, if that’s what you mean.”

  “Good. Because if you do, I’ll burn your baseballs.”

  From the look on her face, she’s fucking serious. “Noted.”

  “There’s shit in the freezer for her to eat, but don’t you dare touch my wine.” She motions to the counter, reaching for the door handle and giving the look. “I marked the bottle.” She’s about out the door and turns. “Slugger?”

  I lift my eyes to hers. Waiting.

  “Don’t tell her I told you this, but they both think you’re pretty special.”

  Fuck yeah.

  Sadie leaves, and I take my phone with me into the family room where Tatum is sitting. At first, she doesn’t notice me sitting on the couch. Until I throw a pillow at her head.

  Turning, she scowls and then notices it’s me. “Boy!”

  “Miss me?”

  She drops the remote on the ground, barrels over a mountain of couch cushions she’s ripped from the furniture, and onto my lap. “Boy, you got an owie.”

  “Does it look that bad?”

  She nods. “Ow.”

  “It doesn’t hurt that bad.”

  She stares at me, searching my eyes, and holds out her hand. “Belly beans?”

  I wink at her and reach inside my pocket. “I got the hookup. These ones are all cotton candy.”

  Her eyes light up and she curls in beside me. “Want to watch Frozen?”

  “Only if we can fast-forward to Olaf.” I wrap my arms around her waist and haul her into my lap. Soaking in her scent, I realize I’m fucked. Kissing the top of her head, I whisper, “He’s the best.”

  She does that thing where she takes my arms and wraps them around her tighter. “I know.”

  How’d this three-foot-tall jelly-bean monster work her way into my heart so easily?

  Easy. She’s the spitting image of her mom.

  A zero on the scoreboard.

  SYDNEY

  Anxiety attack.

  What are the symptoms? I think I have it. Google it for me and text me the link because I don’t have time to look it up. Thanks.

  Crying.

  I’ve been doing a lot of it lately.

  But it’s time to bitch up. I’m upset but not surprised.

  I’ve been avoiding Remi for weeks now. She’s called, stopped by, and I pretended not to be home. Then she started texting me.

  Ignored.

  All of it. Now I need closure. Now I need to buck the fuck up.

  Honestly, in those days after I found out about her and Colin, I couldn’t deal with her too. At least not until I was forced to.

  Because the name on the accidental life insurance policy with his bank?

  Remington Anne Livingston.

  The girl, all of twenty-one, he was trusting his future in while hers was just beginning.

  And for that reason, I needed answers. I, 100 percent, believed Collin instigated the relationship with her and told her all kinds of lies about me to get her to believe him being married was a minor detail.

  Still, I didn’t know.

  It’s time to put my big girl panties on and bitch up. All those details I was so terrified to know, I needed now.

  So I called Remi and asked her to meet me for coffee after I left the bank, knowing Cason could handle Tatum for the afternoon.

  Ten minutes later than the time we agreed on, I walk into the small café in Tempe to find Remi waving me toward the far wall. “I got you an iced white mocha with caramel. Cason said it was your favorite.”

  Of course he did. I smile, that familiar lump permanently lodged in my throat rising again. I don’t think I’ve prepared myself enough for what I’m about to do, but I need to. “Thank you.” I sit down across from her and draw in a deep breath.

  She reaches across the table, her smile so sincere. “Hey, girl, I missed you. I’ve been thinking about you and Tatum.”

  I want to hate her, but I can’t. I don’t know why that is. With a deep breath, I stare into those beautiful golden eyes of hers. “I need to know.”

  “Know what?” Her brow comes together, but there’s a crack in her words I notice.

  “When? Why? How it happened?”

  Her face pales as she fidgets with the straw in her cup. Pulling her curtain of blonde hair aside, she blinks rapidly. “Why would you want to know that?”

  “I don’t want to, but I have to know, or I can’t move on.”

  She nods and darts her eyes from mine to her coffee. She’s fragile in this moment, fearing what I might say next. “It wasn’t about you. It was never you.”

  Stupid emotion takes my words and makes them broken and needy. “Then what was it?”

  Remi thinks about her answer for longer than I would have thought. “I think it was a challenge for him to see if he could get me. We met at a bar. He wasn’t wearing his ring. It wasn’t until later, months in, he said he was married. He threw money around like it was nothing, fancy restaurants, and hotels with penthouse suites and champagne.”

  With our fucking money!

  Still, I remain quiet and let her explain her side. I can’t help it if my mind has her own commentary.

  “I never had that before, and it was intoxicating,” Remi explains. “He fictionalized my world and made me believe I was everything to him. I’m young, and he knew he could control me. I was impressionable.” Her eyes focus on mine with such intensity I know she’s telling me the truth.

  Every single word is her truth and sad. It’s heartbreaking to know he did this to her. Misery loves company. Do you know why? Because the only way for people like Collin to feel good about themselves is for them to have someone beneath them.

  Literally.

  But he couldn’t control me. Remi, he could. She couldn’t go to those restaurants and have the things he was giving her, and that was part of his control.

  Remi shakes her head, her hair falling off her shoulder. “I’m ashamed to say, I let him have the illusion. I liked being taken care of and being told ‘be here at this time.’ I didn’t realize it was him contro
lling me.” She leans and reaches for my hands. “But you, I see you. I can see why he was intimidated by you. His personality couldn’t handle it. With you, you’re independent, successful. Because you weren’t his equal. It was never that you weren’t enough. It was that you were too much for him. He didn’t deserve you, and he knew it. Sadly, that’s why he came to me. Because he was better than me.”

  My heart drops. “Remi, I hope you don’t believe that. I forgive you. I know that sounds so stupid that I would apologize to the woman who fucked my husband, but I am. I forgive you for falling for his lies.”

  Remi clears her throat, lets go of my hands, and reaches inside her purse, and slides the check over to me. “I know I’ve said it before, but I’m so sorry. I knew about you, and it was easy to pretend you were completely different and holding him back. But I realize now that was his justification. That’s not you.”

  I stare at the check—the accidental death policy. I don’t need this money to make it. Because of the paintings I sold, Cason renting the room, and the increase in my business the last few weeks, I’ve taken care of the house, Tatum’s school, and making a dent in the credit card bills. Deep down, if I take this money, it’s like I’m depending on a man I couldn’t trust to give me the heads-up that he’d fucked me over. I couldn’t take it.

  “It’s not about the money,” I tell her, fighting through tears.

  “And that’s why I know this is the right thing to do. This isn’t mine. It never should have been.”

  Nodding, I give her back the check. “You keep it. Do something big with it, Remi. Don’t blow it, but do something for yourself and believe in you.”

  She bites her lip, her eyes darting from the check to mine. “I can’t keep this money. It’s not mine. This is yours and Tatum’s. He was never mine to begin with, and this isn’t either.”

  I look at the paper. The reminder. “I think if I was to cash it, it’s a reminder that he was in my life to begin with. I got the best part of him already. Tatum. She’s all that matters to me in this. And I’m strong enough to know I can provide her with everything she needs.”

  “That’s exactly why you intimidated him.”

  There’s a sense of relief that lifts from my shoulders when I stand up from that table, but also sadness. For her. For me.

  I hang the strap of my purse over my shoulder. Remi stands with me and hugs me.

  I let her and then pull away. “I just need to know. Did he talk about your future? Did he tell you he was going to leave me?”

  Tears well up in her eyes. “No.”

  She’s lying, but I’ll take the lie and let her have it because I know this girl, this innocent young girl my husband used, had her heart broken by him.

  I have one last question, and I’m not so sure I want to ask it, but I do. “March thirteenth, the night he died.”

  Remi takes in a deep breath and nods. “He was with me.”

  I had my answer. He had been coming back from her house. “And Audrey quit as my nanny because she knew about you two?” I had a feeling once I found out that they were friends, Audrey quitting had something to do with Collin and Remi.

  A nod. “Collin fired her. He didn’t want her to tell you.”

  I let out a breath, and let me tell you, it’s so satisfying to finally know the truth. “Thank you for telling me.”

  We walk out together and she sighs. “Does this mean we’re friends now?”

  I smile her way, the sun setting in the valley casting rays of golden flecks in the air that match her eyes. “I wouldn’t say friends, but I don’t hate you.”

  “Okay, well, what I hear is that’s not a no.” She hugs me again. “That’s a maybe.”

  Remi’s glass is always half full. It’s not that my glass is so empty I’m slurping the bottle for the last few drops. And I think we might be friends, but like I said, I can’t hate her. She doesn’t deserve that.

  In the car, my thoughts drift back to Collin. I picture his face in my mind. Never did I think when that nerdy banker guy asked me out, the one who vowed to keep my heart safe till death do us part, would blatantly disrespect me in the ways he had. The intricate web of lies and deceit he weaved reinforced my theories that he was a complete sociopath.

  But I had to thank him. For giving me Tatum. For giving me the ability to choose myself over him. That I’m enough for our daughter and that he didn’t deserve us. Showing me how strong I am, despite my initial assessment that I couldn’t handle any of this and that I will come out the other end of this so much stronger.

  In the darkest way, through this ridiculous adventure of him dying, the foreclosure, and me wanting to be friends with his mistress, he gave me exactly what I needed. A chance to find someone who truly values me and makes me feel like I’m the only woman in the world.

  And I think I have a pretty good idea of who that person is.

  Runners of first, second, and third base.

  SYDNEY

  I make it home as the sun is swallowed by the night. You know in the movies when you can see the woman is about to lose it and have a blubber fest? You know it’s coming. You can see it in her demeanor and her hands shaking on the steering wheel.

  Don’t worry about googling an anxiety attack. I’m pretty sure I’m moments away from one.

  I manage to get inside the house and into the kitchen before I notice the family room.

  “Hi, honey!” Tatum yells, standing next to a Christmas tree that’s twenty fucking feet high, and guess what? She’s holding a kitten. Yes, a snow-white fluffy kitten. She holds the terrified animal up. “Hims Olaf.”

  “I panicked. I couldn’t find a talking snowman anywhere, so we adopted that thing.” My eyes slide to Cason, who looks about ready to bolt out the door or beg for forgiveness. But that’s just one eye because the other is black and swollen shut. He lifts a beer to his lips. “Surprise.”

  I stand at the door, trying to decide what to address first. The Christmas tree in my living room when it’s April. The kitten. Or the fact that Cason’s face looks like he took a sledgehammer to it.

  Speaking of a sledgehammer, that’s what hits my heart, in a figurative meaning.

  I can’t breathe. I open my mouth but no words.

  But to my surprise, I start laughing hysterically and crumble to the ground before them.

  I break.

  Completely, the weight on my shoulders a thousand pounds of bricks. I think it’s because I finally have the closure I need. The final piece of him gone from my life.

  Cason immediately scoops me up in his arms, holding me to his chest. I don’t want Tatum to see this, but I can’t stop it from happening either.

  Cason’s lips press to my forehead, my cheek, my ear. “Why don’t you go upstairs and take a bath?” His voice is soothing yet urgent. “Relax. I’ll get Tatum to bed.”

  I nod, sucking in a deep breath. He lets go of me, and I reach for Tatum, who comes over to me, the kitten behind her, following along.

  “Honey.” She sighs, holding my face in her hands. “You okay?”

  “I’m gonna take a bath. Will you let Cason put you to bed?”

  She nods and drops her hands, reaching for his.

  I barely make it to the bathroom before I break down again.

  I run the water and sit in the tub with lilac essential oils, filling it with the hottest water I can handle, trying to burn away every last memory of a man who used me and our family until there was nothing left, and then moved on to the next.

  For an hour, I stay in that tub, refilling it over and over again to make sure the water stays hot.

  My tears haven’t stopped and I don’t even know why I’m crying. Certainly not for him. More like, because of him.

  At some point, Cason comes inside the bathroom with a lighter. Slowly, he lights the candles placed around the tub. One by one.

  I smile, because it fits what he’s done for Tatum and me.

  Day by day, he’s given us the light and laughter we needed
.

  Without words, he strips down and gets inside the tub behind me. Wrapping his arms around my chest, he holds me tight to him, his mouth on my shoulder, peppering my damp skin with a row of kisses.

  And for the next twenty minutes, he listens intently, and I can’t remember the last time a man did that for me since my dad. I tell him about the insurance money and Remi… the conversation I had with her, and how I felt like he took advantage of both of us.

  He reserves his judgment for Collin, even though I know if they were face-to-face, he’d want to knock him out. It’s during all this that sometimes it feels like I don’t deserve his presence in my life, but I do. I deserve happiness.

  I lick my lips, my mouth dry from dehydration of crying and too much alcohol. You’re probably not surprised to know I took a bottle of wine in here with me.

  Heat pulses through my entire body as I bring my lips to Cason’s forearm. Up until now, he hasn’t said much. He’s simply listened to me. I’ve never had a man, aside from my dad, be there for me without intention. And tonight, Cason is added to the roster. He never makes an attempt to do anything more than listen to me.

  This guy, the one holding me as though there’s nowhere else he’d rather be, he’s eaten away at me. Nibble here, nibble there, and you know what? I let him because his bite was irresistible. “This looks bad,” I whisper against his forearm draped over my chest, holding me tight. “Here, my husband died two months ago, and now I have this college kid living with me and I’m fucking him.”

  Light laughter shakes his chest, his hand rising from the water to rub the soapy sponge he has across the tops of my breasts. “Geez, when you put it like that, it totally sounds like you’re taking advantage of me.”

  I laugh out loud, and it feels good.

  He pours me another glass of wine and hands it to me. “Here. This will make you feel better.”

  Turning my head, I eye him carefully, smiling. “Are you trying to get me drunk so I’ll have sex with you?”

  He winks, kissing my nose. “Maybe.”

  The weight surfaces again, despite the easiness between us. “I don’t feel like having sex after today.”

 

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