The Consequence of Falling: New York Times Bestselling Author

by Contreras, Claire

  “I wouldn’t do that.”

  “No, you just feel the need to tell me how every single person in my life is wrong for me and then proceed to kiss me on my damn wedding day.”

  “You’re upset because you know this kiss is the best thing that’s happened to you these last two years, and you don’t know how to process that being that you’re marrying the wrong guy today.”

  My mouth fell open momentarily before I reached up and slapped him. “Get out.”

  “Presley—”

  “Get the hell out, Nathaniel.”

  “I’m not going to apologize for kissing you.” He closed his eyes, took a breath, and looked at me again. “But I am sorry it was today, like this. More than anything, I’m sorry it was as good as it was.”

  With that, he turned and left. I was too shell-shocked to move or say anything else. When the door opened again a second later, I jumped, thinking it would be him again. Instead, it was my mother wearing a rouge dress that matched the wedding party.

  “Oh, honey, you look beautiful,” she cooed.

  I’d been so angry at her for so long, blaming her for cheating on Dad and being the reason they divorced and broke our family apart, blaming her for basically everything that went wrong in my life, but in this moment as she looked at me with pride and love in her eyes, I wanted to crumble. Maybe it was the adrenaline rushing through me from my encounter with Nathaniel, but I rushed over and threw my arms around her.

  “I’m so glad you made it.”

  “Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss this for the world. I had to take four different flights to get here in time, but I made it and that’s the only thing that matters.”

  I hugged her tighter. I’d had so many differences with her over the years that it never even occurred to me that she’d genuinely be happy to be here. She pulled back and looked at my face.

  “We need to fix your lipstick.”

  My hand flew to my mouth as thoughts of the kiss Nathaniel and I shared slammed into me. She started to tug me toward the mirror and I hesitated at first, but gave in quickly. When I caught a glimpse of myself, I was relieved to see I didn’t look disheveled. There was no visible sign of the kiss, but inside, my veins roared with the memory.

  “Mom,” I whispered as she fumbled with the makeup bag. “What if Adam isn’t the one?”

  “Oh, honey.” She walked over and tilted my chin up slightly. “You love him, don’t you?”

  I nodded. “Of course.”

  “It’s completely normal to get cold feet right before you do something life-changing. You have to have faith that it’ll all work out.” She stopped talking and tilted her face when she realized her little speech was doing nothing to calm my nerves.

  I didn’t understand. I’d been fine before . . . I’d spent the entire year planning this wedding. I’d been looking forward to it, to creating a life with Adam. So what changed? Nothing. The only disruption had been the kiss Nathaniel attacked me with. That’s all it was—an attack on an innocent bride. Except I didn’t feel innocent. I would’ve had it not made me feel like I’d been missing out on something major all along. I hated him for putting those doubts into my head. Hated him for making me feel things I shouldn’t be feeling from someone other than Adam. Hated him for making me feel things I shouldn’t be feeling from someone other than Adam. “I didn’t want the opportunity to pass me by forever.” Forever. There would never be another time . . .

  “Presley.” My mom reached out and fixed my hair. I blinked a few times. I’d been staring at her without saying a word. She frowned slightly. “Are you not sure?”

  Was I not sure? My heart pounded. I knew from the look in her eyes that if I said I wanted to hightail out of here, she’d actually help me. Would I do that though? No, I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t sure at all, but I was already here. Would I risk marriage to a man I loved to explore something potentially hazardous with someone like Nathaniel because of a stupid kiss? I shook my head, then nodded, remembering what she’d asked.

  “I’m ready. I’m ready. I’m doing this.” I inhaled and exhaled and the minute I said the words aloud and my mom smiled, I knew I’d made my choice. Nathaniel Bradley was wrong. Adam and I were a team that would be strong. Unified. Forever. And it was time to get that journey started, nerves be damned.

  Five

  Five years later

  “That was a strike. Come on, ump,” Dad shouted beside me.

  I glanced up from my phone and looked at the field in time to see the manager run up to the umpire, get in his face, and start a screaming match. I couldn’t even understand what they were saying, but sitting in the third row I was treated to a series of fuck you’s.

  “Finally. Something to spice the game up.” I set my phone down and picked up my beer.

  Dad scoffed, but didn’t take his eyes off the commotion on the field. He’d been talking about chasing ballparks for years and after his latest health scare, decided that he needed to scratch items off his bucket list. I was shocked he’d asked me to do this with him, partly because I didn’t know a thing about baseball and also because I could name at least four people off the top of my head that he’d have more fun with while traveling from park to park. I was glad he’d asked me though. Traveling with him meant spending more time with him, which was something I was looking forward to. If I were trying to be the bigger person, I would say it was my fault we’d grown apart, but we’d both shared the burden of it. After years of barely acknowledging each other, I’d shown up on his doorstep, crying because of my failed marriage, and Dad had taken me in without hesitation.

  “Why’d they throw him out?” I watched the manager as he walked off the field, still yelling.

  “You’re not allowed to get in the umpire’s face like that,” Dad explained.

  “He called a strike on that guy even though it wasn’t one.”

  “I’m surprised you caught that.” He raised an eyebrow, shooting a pointed look at my phone. “They should make a no cell phone rule for the first fifteen rows in stadiums.”

  I laughed. “No one would come to games.”

  “Of course you would think that.” He smiled, shaking his head. “You want another beer?”

  I picked up my can and shook it confirming it was empty. “I can do one more.”

  “Two White Oaks please. Keep the change,” he said, exchanging his money for two cans of beer and handing me one. I took a sip.

  “Ezra said we could do guava,” I said, bracing myself as I glanced at him. He took a long sip of his beer, staring into the ballpark with a thoughtful expression on his face. I held my breath. Finally, after a moment of silence, he met my gaze.

  “I know I was against adding different flavors, but I think we can make it a seasonal thing.”

  “Oh, thank God. I thought you were going to be mad I went and spoke to him.”

  “On the contrary, I think it’s great you’re taking such an interest.” He took another sip, looked at the field for another long, silent moment. “I want you to focus your attention on the brew bar though. I know it doesn’t seem like much right now, but I think this can be a big thing later on.”

  I nodded in agreement even though I didn’t really agree, but I wasn’t going to open up that can of worms again. Dad had invested in a boutique hotel last year and he wanted me to open a bar on the property. I loved the idea. I’d come up with it, for crying out loud, but in the last couple weeks I realized I wanted to be more involved with the actual company.

  “You studied hospitality,” he said, taking my silence for what it was—disagreement.

  “And business.”

  “This way, you can use both.”

  “I guess.”

  “I have things in the works right now and need your full attention on that.”

  “What else do you have in the works?”

  He shook his head. “I’ll tell you when I know it’s going to happen.”

  “Okay,” I said, even though I hated being in the da
rk about things.

  “How’s the divorce coming along?”

  “Ask me this time next week.” I sighed. “I’m going to an event with Adam on Monday and I plan on talking to him about it then.”

  “These things take time. I’m glad you’re finally getting out of there though.”

  “Yeah, me too.”

  It had been a long time coming and now I was ready to start the process, I wished I could speed it up. I no longer wanted to be attached to Adam’s last name. I no longer wanted to be attached to anything he did, but I knew that regardless of his cooperation, it wouldn’t be that easy. We were considered high-profile people, at least he was. I was a socialite he’d bagged, his literal trophy wife. I’d been groomed for a man like Adam. I’d been taught to sit up, agree, and smile.

  I was tired of smiling.

  I was done pretending.

  It was my turn to live the life I wanted to live.

  Six

  I’d gotten used to being the subject of whispers at parties, but tonight it felt like they felt like shouts. I blamed Adam’s camp for letting this get out of hand. We’d all agreed we wouldn’t give attention to our separation and impending divorce for a few months. He’d been elected mayor for a second term and everything had spun out of control, including our marriage, which had already been rocky. The newfound attention he got right after we said our vows made the strain unbearable. It was more than just that, though. I felt like I’d been in forgiveness mode when it came to Adam for a long time now and I no longer had it in me. I’d agreed to stay on as an exec for the non-for-profit we started up only because I’d already done most of the legwork and helping underprivileged kids was something I was passionate about. What I didn’t like was how that meant I’d be associated with him. Not that he was a bad guy, but he was a terrible husband, and I was still healing from indiscretions that took place with his assistant and his campaign manager and his supposed best friend—who was nothing more than a friend . . . Basically, he hadn’t kept his dick in his pants.

  Was it because we got married straight out of college? At first I thought, maybe it was me. Maybe I wasn’t fun anymore, maybe I should have spiced things up, but nothing had worked. I gave it all until I had nothing left but anger, because that’s what infidelity did to the innocent party. It made us feel guilty. It made us feel like we weren’t enough. It took me a long time to understand that I wasn’t the problem. The one good thing that had come out of all of this was that it brought my father and I together in a way that nothing before had, maybe because we found common ground, as unfortunate as the stakes were. It reminded me of what Nathaniel said on that rainy, horrible day many years ago. “You may want to ease up on him. He’s going through a hard time right now.” Now I had an inkling of the hard time Dad had gone through. And it fucking sucked.

  I smiled at a woman in a red dress as I stood by the bar, wondering if she too had fucked my husband, when I felt Adam walk up and stand beside me. I didn’t acknowledge him, but I didn’t have to. I knew his movements and the scent of his cologne. His presence was a colossal source of discomfort during times like these, when I knew what they knew and had to pretend I didn’t understand their sympathetic smiles.

  “We have a leak in our office,” he said.

  “No shit.” I looked up at him, glad to see the clear look of discomfort on his face. “It’s funny though, everyone keeps staring at me as if I was the one who had an issue keeping my dick in my pants.”

  “Presley.” He cringed, exhaling heavily.

  “The truth hurts. Trust me, I know.” I shrugged a shoulder and reached for the drink he had in his hands, taking a big gulp of the whiskey. I handed it back and turned to face him. “I think you should put out a statement. You can call it a joint statement and say we’re amicably separating, but that we respect each other or some bullshit like that.”

  “That’s not bullshit.” He took a sip of his drink. “I do respect you.”

  “Not enough to be faithful, apparently.”

  “That was—”

  “A mistake? Please. Once may be a mistake, but beyond that?” I shook my head, surprised when the anger didn’t crash into me as it had before. “Stop bullshitting, Adam. I already voted for you.”

  “I deserve that.” He swallowed, nodding slowly.

  “And I don’t expect you to understand what it’s like to be pursued by all of these women constantly.” Fucking what?

  “You think men don’t pursue me? I made vows to be your wife, so the only man I allowed into my bed was you. And it’s rather ironic, don’t you think, that your role is to be faithful to the vows you made to the people who voted for you? I know my boundaries, Adam, so don’t make this about other women pursuing you.”

  He opened his mouth to respond, but evidentially thought better of it and shut it once more. I almost wished he would say something. Something that would make me angry and cause a scene, except we both knew I wouldn’t. I knew my role, and I’d never openly flip my shit. I’d never openly flip my shit, as much as sometimes I wanted to. We stared at each other for a long time, until I could no longer look at him without wanting to cry. He hadn’t even bothered to tell me he’d try harder when I slapped him with the divorce papers. He’d just acknowledged them and agreed it was for the best because he knew he couldn’t make me happy.

  “I have to go.” I grabbed my purse and put the strap on my shoulder. “Let me know when you’re ready to put out that statement.”

  “I can try.” He grabbed my arm before I could fully start walking away.

  I glanced at him over my shoulder. “Try what?”

  “Try to be better. To do better.”

  “That’s nice, but I can’t.” I pulled away enough so he had to let go of my arm. “I can’t stand by you anymore.”

  “Even if we both sign divorce papers tomorrow, it’s going to take time to split our assets.”

  “Honestly? I don’t need to fight you for money and even if I did, I wouldn’t want any of it. Keep whatever you want.”

  “So you’re really going to go work for your dad?”

  I shrugged. “I guess I am.”

  “And you’re really going to open up a brewery?” He frowned. “You don’t even like beer.”

  I blinked. “Drug dealers don’t necessarily like cocaine either, and yet they sell it anyway. What’s your point?”

  “I just think it’s weird, that’s all.” He shot me a look. “You’re spreading yourself thin with that and the foundation.”

  “The foundation is taken care of. I did my part to get it up and running. We have a full-time staff overseeing everything. They don’t need me.”

  “You’ve never been interested in White Oak before. Winston must have offered you a lot of money.”

  “It’s my family business, Adam.” I didn’t even bother to hide the warning in my tone. “I’ll see you soon. Send me the statement by tomorrow afternoon. I’d rather get this over with as soon as possible.”

  This time, I walked away with finality. I had done my time, and enough was enough. I wouldn’t let him make me feel guilty for taking the job with my dad, or anything for that matter.

  Seven

  I was almost at the door to my father’s office building when I spotted a handful of reporters outside. My feet suddenly felt heavy. Why were they there? Did something happen to my dad? Panic rose in my throat as the thought hit me and I started to walk faster. Dad had been sick for a year now, but no one knew about it. He’d had a stroke. It had been covered up and reported as sleep deprivation that required medical attention. The reporters flocked to me when they me near.

  “Mrs. Delaney, any comment on your father’s recent sale?”

  I blinked. Through Adam, I’d learned not to answer reporters and instead kept my head down and avoid interacting until I had something rehearsed to say, but the question caught me off guard. Another sale? Jesus, Dad. At this rate, I should’ve been scared he was going to sell me on the black market.


  “I have no comment,” I said quickly.

  Dad had been on a mission this last year. After his stroke and diagnosis, he’d started selling everything in sight. He’d sold his house in Westchester on a whim and got a new apartment in Brooklyn, of all places. He’d sold his car collection and was down to his Porsche Panamera. I had no idea what his latest sale was, but it must have been a big one if there were people reporting it. Probably his esteemed painting collection, the one the museum had been dying to acquire for years. I pushed the doors and headed toward the elevator, waving at the front desk as I passed.

  “Hold the door,” a familiar voice shouted. I held it and waited until Victor Reuben, our family lawyer, walked into the elevator. He seemed startled to see me. Yeah, the feeling was mutual.

  “I didn’t know you were in town,” I said.

  “Jensen has a book launch,” he said by way of explanation.

  “Another one?” My eyes widened. His best friend was an award-winning author who seemed to release books pretty frequently. It seemed like every time Victor was in town he had a new one out. “I need to speak to you by the way.”

  “About this sale?” He signaled for me to exit the elevator when it opened. I glanced over at him as I walked out and he followed.

  “Well, no, but now that you mention it, what the hell did he sell now?”

  Victor stopped walking. “You don’t know?”

  “No.” I stopped walking and turned toward him. “No one tells me anything until after it happens. What am I supposed to know?”

  He eyed me curiously. “So what did you want to speak to me about?”

  “My divorce.”

  His brows shot up. “You’re getting a divorce?”

  “Yes, long overdue and since you’re the expert—”