Page 36 of Shattered Dreams
Of course, he fucking did.
I turn away so he doesn't recognize me, then follow him back to the coffee shop. By this point, I don't care who sees me; thefucking reporters could film me all day long for all I care. I want to know why mywifespent the night in ahotel roomwith hermale best friendwho has wanted her for fuckingyears.
Kieron heads into the coffee shop with a cocky swagger I detest, giving her a little wave. Sheblushesand looks at him with a smile that tells meeverythingI need to know. He leans down and kisses her forehead, and I tell myself I must be overreacting. He hasn't done anything to suggest?—
But then his hand strokes her thigh beneath the table. He leans in close—too fucking close—and she giggles like a lovestruck teenager.
I can't help it—she'smyfucking wife, andhecan't touch her.
Who does he think he fucking is?
I storm into the coffee shop, barging past the people in the line as I head for their table, staring at Ava as she glances my way, doing a double take.
"I’m not interrupting anything, am I?" I rasp, my voice raw, my adrenaline pumping in my ears.
Ava sighs heavily and crosses her arms, apologizing to Kieron before turning to me. "Roman, I'm having breakfast with my best friend. Do you mind?"
Her tone shocks me. It's ice cold with no sense of love or warmth in it at all. I almost stumble on my disbelief when she turns her attention back to Kieron.
Is she insane? What the fuck is she doing?
"Ava," I say, trying to calm my racing heart. "I saw you leave the hotel.Both of you."
Kieron, the fuckingprick, says nothing, letting Ava answer. And as soon as she does, I wish she didn't.
"Yes, and?" She regards me coolly, like I'd told her I liked the colour blue.
Why isn’t she telling me it was just platonic? That I’m overreacting?
My fists bunch beside me as Kieron finally speaks.
"I think you should leave, mate."
The fucking audacity of this cunt.
"I'm not yourmate," I respond through gritted teeth, looming over him. "And you just spent the night in a hotel withmyfucking wife."
Kieron begins to rise to his feet, but Ava jumps up, eyes locking onto mine.
"Outside,now," she hisses before pushing past me, leaving no room for argument.
"If youtouchedher—" I tell Kieron through gritted teeth, just as Ava practically drags me to the exit, "I'll fuckingkillyou!"
"For fuckssake, Roman!" Ava whirls around once we're outside, her eyes flashing. "This isn't about me and Kieron!"
Her and Kieron?
"What the fuck does that mean?" I snarl, ready to go and kill the bastard for evenlookingat my wife. "You and Kieron?!"
Ava laughs, tilting her head as she says, "Aww, are you jealous, Ro?"
I freeze, shaking my head.
My wife wouldn't screw Kieron—she wouldn't. They're just friends. But the way she's looking at me—like she doesn't give a fuck if I'm jealous or not—tells me otherwise. Because this woman is not my wife. My wife is faithful, caring, loyal—she's not like this.
"You know what, Ro?" she continues, moving closer so I can smell her signature scent: vanilla and cashmere, and something else. Something that isn't her. Something that smells ofhim. "I like this whole screwing other people thing. Maybe this isexactlywhat our marriage needed."
I shake my head, a heaviness forming in my gut. "Ava, no."
