Page 18 of Shattered Soulmates

"So, a year of being gone wasn’t enough closure for her?"

"I guess it was a game she played."

"Was?Are you sure you’re using the correct verb here? Wouldn'tisbe a more apt one—It is a game she plays?"

"As I was saying,” he continues, “Marissa promises she isn't leaving again. And, I just got caught up in my feelings. I’m sorry if I hurt you, but like I said, I’m confused. She wants to be a couple again. There’s a part of me that she owns. On the other hand, I love you, Paisley, you’re my mate. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I just don’t know how to reconcile this. I need time to work through it and decide what I want. I need space, but then I don't want to be away from you. Does that make sense?"

"Yes, it does. You’re selfish," I say flatly. "You want your cake and eat it too." That saying never made sense to me.Of course, you want to eat your cake!"You want me, and you want her."

"I just need to think."

"Well, the best part of it all is that you don't need to think about it. I understand. No confusion. I want to make this easy on you." I flash my most charming smile at him.

A look of relief passes over his face.

"So, just sit right there and let's give you an education in CMS. Beta Knight? North?" I call out, and they immediately file into the office.

“Miles," I begin, “there’s a condition called Cheating Mate Syndrome, or CMS.” His shocked expression is brief. "When mates find each other, they experience a biological sync, especially if they’ve been intimate. The other night at my bachelor party, I began exhibiting symptoms."

I pull the brochure about CMS out of my pocket and pass it to him. "Nausea, vomiting, and excruciating pain are the first symptoms. It felt like someone was stabbing me repeatedly with a white-hot poker. If you read carefully, you’ll note that the pain increases as your mate's tryst continues and lasts as long as the act."

I stand and walk to the front of the desk. Miles' face turns pale; he looks like he’s going to be sick. I move the trash can in front of him with my foot. "Just in case you need it. I, myself, vomited for hours that night, until I finally slipped into a coma from the severity of my injuries."

I grin. "Oh, I forgot to mention the injuries. Since you and Marissa decided to have multiple hook-ups that night, my condition became dire. North, don't you have some photos you took for my medical file?"

"Yes, and there’s also the surgical footage that’s now part of the training videos. Give me a minute to pull that up." He glares at Miles.

While he’s logging in on his phone, I continue. "First, I developed black bruises, like someone was punching me repeatedly. Oh—and the burning was excruciating, like fire licking through my veins." I squeeze my eyes shut tightly and lean my head back, remembering the pain. "But since you two just kept going, my bruises turned into weeping sores, then bleeding wounds."

"Here they are!" North holds out his phone to Miles, who takes one look at the photo, pushes the phone away, and bends to vomit into the garbage can. I turn my head aside. I’ve seen enough of my own bodily fluids to last a lifetime, let alone anyone else's. I press a hand to my stomach as my eyes water.

Once Miles' retching stops, North thrusts the phone at him.

"Watch the video, Miles. You owe her that."

Miles looks at me guiltily, wipes his mouth with his sleeve, and reluctantly takes the phone. He staggers back, his face contorted with pain as he watches the footage of my surgery.

North gets up in his face. "We had to give her every ounce of blood we had on the chopper, and she still barely made it to the ER alive. She coded during surgery. But thankfully, we have a surgeon who specializes in CMS. She was able to save her. I hope a night of passion with Marissa was worth all that Paisley went through because of you. I know it wasn’t. There’s no comparison between them.

Next time you’re faced with choosing between your mate and Marissa, for goddess' sake, reject your mate first."

Miles shoves the phone back at North, his eyes red, but he remains speechless. Seething, North punches him. Miles is sent flying out of the chair and hits the back wall, blood gushing from his face. He says nothing, but tears stream freely down his cheeks.

“I never meant to hurt you, Paisley,” he says, his voice raw and guttural as he swallows. “I’m sorry.”

I sigh. Watching this play out has lost its appeal. Miles might be a cheater, but I’m not a sadist, and I do still love him. You can't just turn off love after a year of wonderful memories.

"North, stop," I say quietly.

He growls, pacing the room and pulling his hair.

"Go, North. Get us some cold bottled water, please."

North nods and leaves.

Knight looks at me, shell-shocked.

Miles leans against the wall, tilting his head and holding his nose.

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