Shattered (The Clans Book 7) Read online

  The woman behind the counter has one of those fake grins plastered on her face, beautiful caramel skin, and bright pink lips. Her long nails tap absentmindedly against the desk, and I think of asking where she gets them done because they are flawless.

  "Good evening, do you have a reservation?" she asks politely, and I shake my head. "Is it just you?"

  I don’t think she means it to come out judgmental, but I am sensitive right now, and I feel like she is thinking how pathetic that must be when I just nod.

  "Okay, let me see what I have." Her nails tap across the keyboard with precision, the noise echoing off the marble and granite embellishments in the warm-colored lobby.

  "Okay, it looks like I can put you in 347. You got lucky. It’s one of only two singles left." I roll my eyes and hand my credit card to her, not wanting to delay any longer.

  "Could I get the concierge to do a couple of things for me as well?" I ask, and she raises her eyebrow at me.

  "It’s technically past his shift."

  "Does he have a phone I can call? Money is no problem. I will pay him extra. I just really need this favor."

  She gives me a curt nod and reaches under the desk to pull out a business card and slide it over to me along with the key. I feel relieved to be done with her as I take them both and head up to my room on the third floor.

  The room smells like it was recently cleaned, which I guess is a good sign. The loneliness begins to set in. Not that it is all bad, but I realize that I am so used to being around him, or his staff, or our so called friends that I am nowhere near prepared for what it feels like to be alone in the silence of this well insulated hotel room.

  I slide over to the bed, gathering the bottom of my dress up as I slip my heels off with a sigh. I reach for the phone and dial the number on the card, glad when the concierge actually picks up for me.

  "Hi, I am a guest in 347. I know it's late, but I am willing to tip well for your services." That perks him up real quick, and I begin to rattle off the things I need— feminine supplies, my favorite soap, and some basic clothing so that I am not either naked or in this dress the whole time I am here, however long that will be.

  There is still no game plan at all. I know I plan to do something. I am certainly not going on that trip with him. But can I do it? Can I truly break away from him? I know I will have to if there is no way to fix this, and I need the space to figure out if this is something that can be fixed. Would counseling do any good? Would he even go?

  I am not sure because I realize the man I thought I knew I don’t know at all. I never would have thought him capable of this level of deceit especially with all the hard work he was supposed to be doing in order to get this DA position.

  I guess he has only been working in the bedroom and into someone’s pants rather than on his career, and I have been a damn blind fool.

  I don’t like how it feels to know that.

  I sit back and pull out my phone, the only other possession to my name at the moment, and begin flipping randomly through Facebook. It’s the ultimate boredom killer, passing tons of time before you realize it. But as I scroll through my timeline, I see a lot of my old friends and colleagues from before I left home and everything behind, posting about their lives. All the interesting things I am no longer a part of.

  I don’t know whether to smile at all the things they are doing and how happy they look or cry because I realize for the first time what I have given up to live this life that I have for two years now. I have been a wife, a trophy wife to be exact, for a year now, but I was his property long before that and didn’t even know. When he asked me to move, I didn’t hesitate. When he asked me to change any part of myself, I did as he had asked to keep him happy. I thought that was what love was. I don’t know why I was so broken and naive about it all.

  I am about to stop beating myself up and get off of Facebook when I come across one of those memories it throws in your face. And this one is from before I met Noah. My hair is a different color, my body more boyish with a flatter chest and thinner lips. but I didn’t feel that way back then. I didn’t hate how I looked, and I wonder when that changed and why.

  A knock sounds at my door and I get up to answer to, seeing that the concierge has come baring gifts. I thank him and sign off on that large tip I promised, seeing as he was fast and everything is here that I had asked for.

  As soon as the door is shut again I strip down and slip on a tee and shorts he brought to me, brushing through my hair and letting it down. I am in relaxed mode, and it makes me feel tired all of a sudden. But it’s much earlier than I would usually go to sleep.

  My mind drifts to the things and people I left behind, and my heart aches for someone specific; my best friend, Natasha. She has carried two of my god children inside of her, one of which I have never even seen up close. I was meant to be at his birth but wasn’t allowed to go. It should have been a red flag.

  A lot of things should have been, but what use does it do right now to play that game. I know it’s unhealthy. That's what a professional would say. But easier said than done.

  I pick up my phone and dial her number before I change my mind, hoping that she isn’t going to screen my calls or worse bitch at me for all this distance between us. The truth is, I really need her right now. I need her to remind me who I am and how strong I can be for myself. I need to remember what it was like to be me.

  It rings four times, and I don’t think that I am going to catch her, but then she picks up, the cries of a small child in the background. "Hello?"

  "Tasha?" I ask, forcing the tears out of my voice.

  "Beth, is that you?" she asks, and I don’t hear a hint of anger yet which is a good sign.

  "Yeah, it’s me, but I can call back if it’s a bad time."

  "No, no, just give me a second. Simion is such a hungry boy, it seems he is always crying for food, let me just settle him here, and he will calm down." I hear her shifting and the cries of her baby boy turn into a soft coo and then silence for the most part. "Alright, he’s all good. Now, where the hell have you been?" she asks me, but it's playful and loving, no hint of hatred or suspicion, which I need so badly right now. I almost cry happy tears.

  "I know it's been way too long. Things have been . . . crazy." I try to avoid dumping anything on her right away. I haven’t been there for her in too long for me to expect to just throw my issues at her and expect her to comfort me or fix them. "Noah has been really busy, and this life has me so caught up sometimes. How are those god babies of mine?"

  "Oh, Nina of course has been walking now and starting to talk a lot. She talks my ear off, though admittedly I don’t understand all of it. And Simion is surely going to be a big boy. He just eats and eats. Loves cuddle time but he is such a chubby baby."

  I laugh and feel a little hurt that I have missed so much. "I hope you have some good pics and videos. I would love to see them."

  "Oh, I will dig some up. Anton is worse than me. His phone is full of memories of all of us."

  I smile, knowing that at least my best friend is happy in her marriage. I always knew she would be. There was something off about Anton for sure, but the way he has always looked at her let me know he would never mistreat her really or have eyes for anyone else. It is just in his business that things are not right. I have speculated for years about him and what he does, but I keep it to myself. It's none of my business, really. And I hate judging. One of the many reasons why I just have never felt right in this life with Noah but have pushed those feelings aside for him.

  "Beth," Tasha says softly. "I am so glad you called, and we can talk, but I feel like there is a reason you called me up out of the blue. We haven’t seen you in so long, and I have been worried. Can you just tell me what’s been going on?"

  I let out a rattily breath and then another, my eyes closed. I should have known she would see right through the cheery talk. I thought talking about her kids would keep her distracted and keep conversation light, but of course she w
ants to know why I have disappeared from her life.

  From my own family's life.

  "It's complicated." My voice cracks, and I know I will tell her. At least some of it.

  "You know I am not buying that. Out with it, Bethany," she scolds.

  "I found out tonight that Noah has been cheating on me. We were at this thing so he could mingle with the people he needed to get his election numbers up, and then he promised we would go on this second honeymoon to celebrate our anniversary. But I overheard him with his secretary. So, I ran. I am now at a hotel and no idea what I am going to do," I admit. "I know I don’t deserve your sympathy or help. I have been such a bitch not being there for you. But I couldn’t help but call and hear a familiar voice."

  There is silence for a moment before I hear more shifting. Perhaps Simion is done feeding. "I am sure this is a shock to you. I am not going to judge or scold. You know you are always welcome to come back to Miami and stay in the guest house."

  I am shocked, honest to God. I don’t expect her to be so generous and pick up where we left off. Maybe Noah has ruined me and has me thinking of people as these easy to push away things that I have to constantly please.

  "Thank you. I'll think about it. I think I need to sleep on it."

  "Fair enough. But, Beth? Don’t lose touch again."

  "I promise." This time, I mean it. I don’t care what Noah says even if we get back together. I am not pushing those I love to the side anymore.

  Chapter 3

  Bethany

  As I climb out of the cab and step out in front of a sleek black building that looks like nothing much from the outside, I take a moment to appreciate being back in Miami. It’s strange, the way it instantly feels like home, like an old routine that I never stopped following. The humidity and the heat feel so much better than the cool breeze coming out of the mountains and through the city in Pittsburgh that always makes me feel chilled even in the summer. Though, no one who is a native ever seems to notice it.

  When I woke up the next morning alone in that hotel room, I knew that I couldn’t stay there for so many reasons. If I wanted to see what life was like without Noah, it would take me leaving the state. He would find me eventually and come to convince me to come on that trip with him. He was a sweet talker, always had been. I just never realized any of it was a lie until I overheard him with Brittany like that.

  So, I turned my phone off and called Natasha using the phone in my room, letting her know I was coming to visit for a while. Then, I had the concierge book both my flight and my hotel room once I got into Miami. I didn’t want to impose myself upon someone with two young children who I had not seen in two years, even if it was a guest house. And I didn’t know how long I would stay; a weekend? A week? A month? Forever?

  There are so many unanswered questions, and I let them wash over me before putting them to the side and waltzing into one of the many restaurants Anton, Natasha’s husband, owns in the area. Natasha had thought it was a good place to meet where it was neutral ground and I could see the kids. We have a private room, since Anton owns the place, where we can take our time catching up.

  I think she expects I might scream or cry. I used to be such a crier, but right now it hasn’t hit me like that yet. I am confused, hurt, and angry, but I am not so distraught that I need to shed a bunch of tears over a man who pretended with me for . . . I don’t know how long. He must have meant it all at some point, right?

  Maybe one day I would even be brave enough to ask him that to his face, but for now, I just need distance.

  I walk in and give my name to the hostess, noticing how the outside of the place belies the opulence inside. Though, I think that is the exact point. Miami is all about the glitz and the glam, especially with restaurants and hotels. Anton intrigues people by making something different so that it stands out like a sore thumb only to shock everyone once they come inside like they are entering a new world. Natasha is married to a brilliant businessman if nothing else.

  I am promptly led off to the side, into a private dining room that is about the size of my living room back in Pittsburgh. I don’t think Natasha notices me as I come in because she is placing Simion down on the floor for belly time on his blanket while I stand against the doorframe and just watch.

  The last time I saw Natasha she was glowing from having her daughter and being so in love with her new husband, but she still seemed like the same Tasha I had known for years. She hadn’t morphed into mother mode yet.

  But now I can see it. She has traded her heels for flats and her fancy lace for a long and colorful maxi dress that is easy to move in. her bust is something to be jealous of, probably from the breastfeeding, and while she looks a little frazzled trying to balance two kids, it is a happy state of stress rather than a bad one. I think it just might be something I want some day. Not now, considering I have a lot of shit to figure out about myself before I even dive into a relationship again. But one day, maybe our kids could play together.

  "Oh, Beth, I didn’t see you there! You look so different." she says as she comes up for air and looks at me, a big smile on her face. Now, if anything, this is what will make me cry. As she hugs me I wipe at my eyes and tell them to stop. This doesn’t need to be all about how bad I have it. I just want to enjoy getting to know my friend again and my beautiful god babies.

  I take a seat and pull up the menu to look at it as Nina picks up a crayon and begins scrawling onto a piece of paper that sits in front of her, her menu untouched and a juice of some kind half drank at her side.

  Her daughter's hair is a dark auburn, but all the rest of her features remind me of Anton, and I see how she is the perfect combination. And she is much quieter and calmer than the cooing baby blowing bubbles on the ground as he practices holding himself up for the crawling motion and rocks back and forth.

  "I am so sorry," I finally say as I see what I want and set the menu back down, composing myself as I look at my friend. "I hate that I missed being there to see Simion born and that I have not been here for my goddaughter either like I should have been."

  Tasha shakes her head at me, her look stern. "No, it is both sides at fault here. I should have realized something was wrong when you didn’t come and stopped returning my calls after that. I let it go and moved on with my life. I shouldn’t have done that either. I should have just come up there and gotten the truth."

  I shake my head and smile wryly at her. "I don’t think it would have done any good. If he didn’t try to keep you from me or send you away himself, I would have done so and envied everything. I was so lost. Still am a little."

  She reaches over and places her hand on mine. "It'll be okay. You’re here now, and we can figure out this thing together. Now, let’s eat."

  I laugh, agreeing wholeheartedly as my stomach begins to rumble. I had jumped on the flight without eating and had only had some crackers to snack on since getting off.

  ***

  The water comes down on me, and I take it as a symbol of cleansing me from all that bad shit I had been knee deep in for far too long now. It felt good to be back in Miami and back around my best friend. We had spent over 2 hours at the restaurant just laughing and catching up. I had even gotten to hold Simion at the end there while Tasha had taken Nina to the restroom to get her cleaned up after making a mess out of her mac and cheese.

  It felt like home, being with her again. But when she had asked me once more to come and stay with her in her guest house, I had refused. I thought it would be easier for me to heal in my own space, especially since I don’t have a plan as of yet. I haven’t filed any divorced papers. Hell, I haven’t even called a lawyer to find out what that entails. Right now, I am just figuring out how to live as a woman who is not on Noah’s arm and at his beck and call 24 hours a day.

  I turn off the showerhead just as I hear a loud knock on the door. My brows furrow because I have no idea who it could be. I slip on the robe that is hanging in the bathroom— complimentary, and go to open the door
. Standing on the other side is my husband, Noah, and the smell of alcohol hits me instantaneously. There are so many thoughts going through my head, I can't even sort them out. He has never been a heavy drinker to the point of pure drunkenness, at least not around me. But of course, he was hiding one thing, so he could be hiding plenty of other things under that brilliant smile and Armani suit.

  I don’t know how he got here, nor do I want to know. The thought of him driving or even trying to think straight in the state he is in worries me, and there is an unease that overcomes me. I did not know until this moment, looking at the way he sags and looks at me as a pitiful excuse for a man that there is not a chance I am going back to him. I don’t want counseling or to work things out. I just want to be free.

  "You have to come home, Bethany," he says, and I am surprised that he can string coherent words together with the way he reeks, even burping in my face before he starts to shed some tears running down his flushed cheeks. I don’t know if it is an act or not, but either way I am not buying what he’s selling. "I need you to come home. I thought if I gave you your space you would show back up, but then I saw you used the credit card in Miami."

  He chokes on a sob, and I simply cross my arms over my chest, not letting him fully inside the hotel room. I don’t trust myself or him right now.

  "Why would I come back to that, Noah? There's nothing to come back to. I don’t know if there ever was anything."

  "I don’t even know what you mean,” he whines, looking defeated as he leans even harder on the frame. "I don’t know why you left. If you were sick of the parties, or what."

  "It was the cheating!" I can’t help but raise my voice. How can he not realize I figured it out? I caught him red handed. Surely, he must not be that dumb to think I had any other reason to walk out. “You've been fucking Brittany, someone I thought was my friend. She was the only friend I was allowed to have though. And I am sure there’s a reason for that," I grit out, my nails digging into my fists as I feel my anger rise. I can’t believe he has come here to try and win me back. What does he even care about?