Marrying the Millionaire

by Sabrina Sims McAfee

KAYLA CRAWFORD SAT AT THE round table inside her kitchen, holding her face. Pain throbbed at the sides of her temples as she wept her eyes out. Nerves on edge, her stomach roiled with cramps.

  At the loud sound of the cordless telephone ringing, Kayla lifted her aching head from her dampened palms and swallowed the sorrowful emotion threatening to spurt from her quivering mouth.

  My life is a mess. A fat, disgusting mess.

  Upset, her heart clenched inside her tight chest.

  Kayla’s husband, Carson, stalked inside the kitchen dragging a black suitcase behind him. Sporting a low haircut, a snide expression outlined the features of his brown-complexioned face. One look at the pitiful expression on her wet face, and Carson shook his head.

  “I’ll have my attorney contact yours. Please don’t get greedy in what you’re asking for. When talking with your attorney, keep in mind, if it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have anything. Not a damn thing.”

  Carson’s cruel words sliced Kayla’s pounding heart in half. She swiped at the tear rolling down her cheek, then sniffled. What did he mean, she wouldn’t have anything if it weren’t for him?

  Holding Carson’s brutal stare, Kayla pushed back the chair and stood. Jackass! The last time she checked, she had a Bachelor’s of Arts degree in Education and had planned on becoming a teacher; however, right after she’d graduated from the University of South Carolina, she’d gotten pregnant. He’d insisted they get married, and he’d ordered her to become a housewife to raise their son, Carson Jr., CJ.

  Gosh, why did I name my son after this jerk?

  Irritated beyond measure, Kayla huffed. Feeling like a fool desperate to hold on to her marriage, she folded her arms beneath her breasts and uttered, “Why are you in such a rush to divorce me?” She knew they had marital problems, but everybody does. There wasn’t such a thing as a perfect marriage. But a divorce? A freaking divorce? “Can’t we at least separate for a while?” She blinked at the tears swelling inside her eyeballs.

  Carson rolled his eyes. He released the handle of his suitcase and straightened his red speckled tie. “Look. I might as well tell you the truth. I would give our marriage a second chance if I loved you. But that’s the thing, Kayla,” he uttered, shaking his head, “I don’t love you anymore.”

  Kayla’s heart caved. Drip. Drip. Drip, drip, drip. Huge droplets of water poured from her eyes, streamed down her face like a running faucet. You’re having an affair, aren’t you, Carson? Sniffling, she choked out, “What’s her name?”

  Carson’s head jerked back. He frowned. “Huh? Ah, come on now, Kayla. Surely, you don’t think I’m involved with anyone.” His cold, heartless tone floated around inside the kitchen.

  I can tell by the look in your eyes you’re lying, Carson. Kayla flung her arms up in the air. “What else am I supposed to think, Carson? You sprang this whole divorce thing on me two weeks ago. Out of the blue, you just up and want a divorce. I know there’s someone else.”

  Silence loomed in the air as dread filled her from head to toe. For the life of her, she couldn’t remember the last time her husband had intimately touched her. Or the last time he had made sweet, tender love to her. Or the last time he’d asked her on a date for a fun night on the town. Being married to Carson sucked.

  Understanding how far they’d grown apart, Kayla’s heart cracked in half. She should’ve seen this divorce coming a long time ago, but she hadn’t. She’d been too busy lying to herself, telling herself that everything between them was okay. That her husband didn’t spend time with her because he was too busy working, and too busy golfing. Too busy hanging out with his guy friends. He found time to spend with everybody, except for her and their son, CJ. Yes, his actions had indicated he didn’t love her anymore, but she’d lied to herself and convinced herself that he did.

  Silence loomed, heightening the tension. Carson stalked over to the refrigerator to grab a cold beer. Glaring at her as if she stank, he leaned up against the edge of the sink and gulped the beverage.

  Despaired, Kayla released a harsh sigh. I don’t want a divorce. Lord knows I don’t. Please God, help my stupid husband see fit to stay. What will CJ and I do without him? I don’t even have a freaking job. Having gone from high school straight to college, she’d never worked a day in her life.

  Carson blew out a pent-up breath. “We married young, okay?” He grimaced.

  So what? Shaking her head, Kayla rolled her eyes. She fought to control her swirling emotions.

  “Lots of people marry young, but they don’t just up and file for a divorce. Marriage is supposed to be for better or worse. You have to work through the hard times, together. It’s not just about you. You’re twenty-six, grown, and have a son to think about. What about CJ? Can’t we at least try to work this out for the sake of our son?”

  Carson held Kayla’s gaze for a brief moment. Leaving the beer bottle on the granite counter, he gripped the handle of his luggage, then walked toward the front door. Keeping his back to her, he grasped the door knob and gazed out the pane of square glass carved in the door.

  As if he were contemplating his degrading decision, Carson’s shoulders rose and fell with every breath he inhaled. Still clenching the brass door knob, he shook his head hard.

  “It’s too late for us, Kayla.”

  Whatever.

  Without looking back at his wife, he pulled open the door and walked out on her, leaving his son behind as well.

  At the sound of the door shutting, a loud sob burst from Kayla’s throat and echoed inside the living room. Staggering toward the couch, she dropped to her knees, slapped hard hands to her crying face. Pain riveted her soul.

  Tilting her head back, she choked on her moaning sobs.

  He left me. He left me and my baby. How could he do this to us?

  Her shoulders shook violently as she sat on the floor crying, slowly dying inside.

  I gave Carson the best years of my life. My youngest years, and he does this to me. I can’t afford to keep this house. What am I going to do? I’m twenty-four and about to get a divorce. Lord, help me. Please help me.

  Shocked and feeling betrayed, Kayla pulled her weak body into an upright position. She crawled over to the couch and remained sitting on the floor. With her back aligned to the sofa, Kayla grabbed the v of her cotton shirt, then dragged it over her running nose, then her burning eyes. The telephone rang again, then stopped. Then it began ringing once more.

  I don’t feel like talking now.

  Her throbbing head felt as if it would burst wide open. She leaned the back of her head on the edge of the cushion, closed her eyes, and reminisced about the love she and Carson once shared. Early on in their relationship, he’d been so good to her. Forget that crap, it hurt too bad to think of the day she’d spotted him walking across the lawn while he was visiting his sister in college.

  “Mommy! Mommy!” Kayla’s two-year-old son, CJ, scuttled inside the living room, clutching the cordless telephone in his hand. “It Papa!” he shouted, standing in front of her, out of breath and smiling.

  Oh, CJ, why did you answer the phone? I’m in no mood to talk. Staring at her with his piercing, brown, doe-like eyes, her heart warmed. I have to pull myself together for you.

  CJ put the tip of his finger in his mouth. “Here.” He extended the telephone to her. “Ah, uh, Papa want you, Mommy.”

  Holding the phone to her ear, Kayla rubbed the frontal lobe of her throbbing forehead. “Hello?”

  “Kayla! Thank God you’re home!” A worrisome tone coated her grandfather’s voice.

  Kayla swallowed. “What’s wrong, Grandpa?”

  He cleared his throat. “I have something I need to tell you in person, and it can’t wait. Pack your things and come home first thing tomorrow morning.”

  This sounds serious. Wiping her nose with her backhand, Kayla sniffed. “Can’t you just tell me now?”

  “No!” Her grandfather’s voice was firm. “Come hom
e. Tomorrow.”

  Oh, God. I hope you’re not ill, Grandpa.

  CJ plopped down in his mother’s lap. Sitting in her lap, belly-to-belly, CJ placed his tiny hands on her cheeks. “What’s wrong, Mommy? Why are you crying?” His bottom lip curled under.

  Kayla put her index finger to her mouth to silence CJ. “I’ll be home tomorrow.”

  “Good. Good.”

  Giving her a worrisome stare, CJ wiped his mother’s tears with his little fingers, then kissed her lips. “Luv you, Mommy.”

  Kayla mouthed love you back and smiled. “Where are you, Grandpa?” she asked.

  “I’m in the car, driving home.”

  “Grandpa, it’s not good to talk on the cell phone while driving.”

  “You’re right, but—”

  Eeeerrr! Kayla heard the sound of loud, screeching brakes, then she heard a loud boom.

  Anxiety gripped her. “Grandpa! Grandpa!” A static sound buzzed in her eardrum, then the line completely silenced. “Hello?! Hello?!”