Page 12 of Due Process
“Can I stay here tonight?” I asked.
Dad lifted a brow before his gaze flicked to my phone. “Don’t want to go home to your husband?”
I shook my head, trying to bury all those feelings I knew he could read. “He’s sick.”
“You’re always welcome here, Stells. You’re safe here. Always.”
Now, why’d he have to go and say that?
His statement had the desired effect. Surrounded by the men who truly loved me, the pressure slowly eased from my taut body, evaporating from my spine. I slumped forward.
I picked up my fork and stared down at my dish of packet mac and cheese, then dug in.
I am safe. I am home.
Chapter 7
STELLA
I bounced into work the next morning revamped and ready to bust some balls.
Staying at my dad’s overnight had given me time to recoup and shut down those pesky feelings that were virtually useless.
I was back in boss mode. And after treating myself to a late sleep-in and a double shot of coffee, I pivoted past my office and went straight to my husband’s.
Without warning, I slammed his door open. Felix bolted to his feet, ready to let loose on whoever had the audacity to enter his office in such a way—until he processed my presence.
His eyes couldn’t help but peruse my frame, latent yearning sparking in their depths as they ate me all the way up.
Before, that look alone would have had me high on lust and love. Now, it just left my skin feeling slimy, as if coated in a filthy sheen.
And then there was Little Miss Homewrecker, standing behind my husband, her face coated in shock, except for her stare that primarily screamed insecurity and spite.
Could I blame her? Not really.
I was an intimidating figure with pure sex appeal, oozing a certain magnetism that could not be replicated. You either had it, or you didn’t, and the entitled bratwishedshe had a single ounce bouncing around in that young body.
It wasn’t hard to spread your legs and promise the holy grail. Yet, it was another thing entirely to upsell the merchandise when your goods were glitchy with a whole side of aftereffects.
Oh, yeah. I had looked into her. It wasn’t hard, since my best friend from college was an IT genius—and the only person who knew about the whole mess. After gaining some background information on Secretary Heather, let’s just say I was disappointed in my idiot husband, who got scammed into dining on off-cut meat when he had prime steak waiting at home.
Sure, when one was hungry, they’d settle for anything. But he would soon find out that he’d be eating leftovers for the rest of his life. ’Cause I’d ratherstarvethan poison my insides with his contaminated meatever again.
Felix pushed Heather out of the way as he raced around his desk to gather me in a hug. “I missed you last night, sweetheart,” he whispered before lowering his head to press a kiss to the base of my neck.
Barf. Get your disease-ridden lips off me!
After I had settled the boys to bed, I called Felix, feigning tiredness so I didn’t have to return home to him. Of course, I played the doting wife, concerned for his unwell state... that just happened to miraculously resolve overnight.
I had a desperate desire to push Felix away and bitch-slap him into next week, but I had to be smart.
Six weeks!
Instead, my gaze lifted over his shoulder, making sure my expression was giddy as I stared Heather directly in the eyes. Which she promptly averted.
“Leave me withmyhusband, Hilary.”
“It’s Hea—”
