Maybe it’s the fact he’s not pretending as if my relationship didn’t implode while being livestreamed. Maybe it’s because he’s the first person to point out something the majority of Cash’s “fans” failed to do. Maybe I’m just tired. But something inside me snaps.

  “You know what, Asher?” I sense the stares around us, but I look him straight on. “Can I be honest with you?”

  “Always.” He nods eagerly. He doesn’t shy away from the unhinged tone to my voice, and for that reason I decide Asher is my new best friend.

  I lift my glass and take a fortifying gulp. Only, I can’t stop drinking because damn, this is the best mojito I’ve ever had. There’s a part of my brain that recognizes it might not be in my best interest to spill all my secrets to someone I just met. Also, fucking hell! When did my life start to read like a bad daytime soap opera? I drain the glass until all that remains are a few ice cubes, lime wedges, and mint leaves. “I didn’t sleep with the pool boy. I didn’t have an affair. I didn’t cheat on Cash-motherfucking-Hughes. He cheated on me.”

  “I knew it!” Asher gasps. He lifts the nearby pitcher and refills my glass before I even sit down. “Was it with the pool boy?”

  “No!” I say a little too sharply, then nod my head. “Thank you!” I lift my glass. “He cheated with his assistant. How boringly cliché, right?”

  “Oh, honey. You don’t have to tell me.” Asher rolls his eyes. “I’m a gay man who runs the only beauty salon in town.”

  My burst of laughter catches me by surprise. I clear my throat. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I’m glad I could make you smile.”

  “Val. I’m so sorry.” Maeve rubs my shoulder.

  “So then, Cash staged that entire livestream?” Rosalie asks, bewildered. It hits me that every single person in the town has probably watched the video capturing my lowest of lows. “How?”

  “More like, how did you not push him in the pool?” Bernadette adds.

  Everyone laughs.

  But it’s clear they aren’t laughing at me. They’re laughing with me.

  “Do you really want to hear my sob story? I don’t want to take away time from your book club.”

  “I didn’t even read the book.” Liv shrugs.

  “Seriously?” Rosalie bugs her eyes.

  “What?” Liv glances around. “You know I can’t get into it unless there’s some spice to the romance. I live in a world of fade to black sex scenes. I need excitement.”

  “Yes.” Asher nods, settling his gaze on mine. “I’ll take real-life drama over fiction any day. Besides, this is way better than Maeve’s marriage problems.”

  “They’re not problems. They’re challenges. And every relationship has them.” Maeve glares at Asher, then turns to me. “Val, you don’t have to share unless you want to.”

  I glance around, taking in their interested stares. They want to know. It’s human nature to be curious, but they aren’t asking so they can run to the nearest gossip rag and exploit our connection. They appear genuinely concerned—and we’ve only just met. I imagine how much more invested they’d be if we’d been friends for decades.

  It’s this right here that makes Wilder Valley special. As much as I couldn’t wait to get away from our small town as a young girl, I find it comforting now. Being a commodity in a big city that can’t wait to use you up and spit you out has lost its luster.

  “Okay, here’s what really happened.” I lean back and start in on the story—the true story—and it feels good to set the record straight. Even if it changes nothing.

  14

  VAL

  Six weeks ago

  Cash: Good luck today!

  The text from Cash comes in just as I cap my lipstick.

  Thanks! I miss you. I type out the reply and then shove the rest of my makeup back into my travel bag.

  I drove down to San Diego last night for a packed schedule of meetings with a prospective client—one who specifically requested me, not Cash. He was insulted by it—especially since this is a lucrative design for a high-rise condo project. When I mentioned I might use this project to kickstart the design firm I’ve always envisioned, we fought for weeks.

  I get it.

  He’s built a successful empire and if I start up my own firm, we’ll officially be competitors.

  At the same time, it hurts that after all these years together he can’t see beyond how this affects him. That he doesn’t trust and support me enough to cheer me on to take this huge leap. After everything I’ve given him, after all my support, how could he fathom I’d start a company with any intent to come after his?

  Shining my light doesn’t take away from his.

  What I need from him most is support. I need him to believe in me. Because even now, as I stare at my reflection in the mirror, I doubt my abilities. Doesn’t matter that I’m forty-one, or that I worked my way through design school and landed a few seasons on HGTV early in my career. It doesn’t even matter that I’ve watched Cash tackle even bigger projects for years. I still feel like a baby in this profession.

  At least he texted to wish me good luck. Maybe it’s an olive branch and he’s realized it’s wasted energy to be mad at me for taking this opportunity.

  Maybe if today goes well, he’ll be ready to celebrate when I drive home tomorrow.

  I turn to triple-check the contents of my bag before exiting my room and walking to the bank of elevators. My phone rings. The caller ID displays the company of my potential client.

  “Good morning!” I answer, infusing extra cheer into my greeting.

  “Miss Brooks, I hope I caught you before you left.” As soon as my name is spoken by the unfamiliar voice, my heart sinks. “I’m so sorry, but I’m calling because we’ve had something come up and need to cancel today’s meetings.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” I slump into one of the chairs outside the elevator. “I hope we can reschedule.”

  “Yes, absolutely. Our CEO came down with food poisoning and the team decided it would be a waste of everyone’s time, yours included, if we held the meetings without her. We apologize for the inconvenience.”

  “Of course. I completely understand.” Even if I am disappointed. “Please send her my best.”

  “I will do that. Again, she sends her deepest apologies for the inconvenience. We were all really looking forward to your presentation. We’ll be in touch.”

  Ending the call, I wander back to my room, defeated at the turn of events. Shit. Now what do I do? Do I stay in San Diego for another night? Use the opportunity to recharge and relax. I consider it a moment, but as bummed out as I am, I’ll probably end up wallowing in takeout and overpriced room service.

  I need to be around people. I want the comfort of my boyfriend.

  Cash doesn’t expect me home until tomorrow, but how fun would it be to surprise him at the office? I glance in the mirror. It’ll make the effort I put into my hair and makeup worth it. The drive to Los Angeles shouldn’t take more than two to three hours depending on traffic and if I hurry, I’ll be there before lunch.

  As I check out of my hotel and hit the road, my mood shifts to one of excitement. When I remember today isn’t a filming day for Cash’s show, it gets even better. His calendar might be clear enough to steal him away for a lunch date. I might even be able to tempt him to play hookie and we could go back to the house for some much needed alone time. We haven’t done anything just the two of us in far too long. This spontaneity is just what we need.

  Between the hours I put in the last few weeks to prep for today’s meetings that never happened and him being mad, I’m desperate to make up and reconnect. Without cameras. Cash’s reality show is not my favorite pastime, though it’s a huge source of income and grows his brand so I tolerate the camera crew the best I can. At least today I won’t have to. It’s a small win, but I’m taking it.

  At a quarter to noon, I pull into the parking lot of Cash’s design firm. His car isn’t in his normal spot. Damn it. I want to surprise him, but if he’s not here it’ll be a bust. Maybe he went to lunch? I head to his office floor to find out and greet Sophie, his receptionist.

  “Val?” Her eyes widen. “What are you doing here? I thought you had meetings today.”

  “There was a conflict, so we rescheduled.” I wave her off and glance to Cash’s office door. It’s shut and the lights are off inside. “I was hoping to catch Cash. Is he out at a meeting?”

  “Oh, um.” She taps at the mousepad of her computer and clicks a few times. “He’s got the afternoon blocked off. I’m sorry, there’s no public details for the meeting.” She winces. “It looks like he’s scheduled to be out through the rest of the day.”

  “Oh.” My shoulders shrug in defeat. I guess it’s just one of those days where nothing goes as planned. “That’s all right. Thanks, Sophie.”

  “Would you like me to call him? Or I can check with someone on the team?”

  “No. I don’t want to bother him.” I shake my head and glance around the office. I wonder where everyone is. It’s a barebones crew for this time of day. “I’ll just see him when he gets home. You have a good day.”

  “You too.” She smiles sweetly.

  Heading back to the house, I stop and pick up lunch from one of my favorite spots. If the day’s already gone to shit, at least I can fill up on comfort food. My stomach grumbles as I turn into the private drive, and I’m already visualizing kicking off these killer heels and trading my posh suit for my comfiest pajamas.

  Only, when I open the garage, Cash’s car is parked inside, and occupying my space is a vehicle we don’t own.

  Weird.

  My brow knits with confusion as I grab the bag of takeout and leave my car parked outside. I head into the house and drop my food on the counter, listening for voices. There’s none. No one is in the open living space.

  Maybe he’s outside?

  Or in his home office?

  I open my mouth to call his name, but something holds me back. It’s nothing more than a strange feeling, but it grows swirling in my gut as I pass by his empty office.

  It's then I hear them.

  Moans. Sexual moans. The grunts of pleasure and the groan of furniture.

  He’s watching porn. That’s my first thought. But it evaporates as soon as I swing open our bedroom door.

  They don’t even notice me. So deep in the throes of passion, Cash and his personal assistant, Amelia, don’t register the door to the bedroom opening, or my body standing in the entryway.

  She’s riding him. She’s thrusting her hips forward with all her might while he spanks her ass.

  I’m still stuck here staring.

  “Is this a fucking joke!” I finally scream.

  Amelia freezes. Cash shoves her off his lap.

  Both of them meet my wild stare with shocked ones of their own.

  “Val, what are you doing back?”

  What am I—? Fucking hell, is he seriously asking me what I’m doing here? In the home we share!

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” My voice is unhinged, even to my own ears. “Are you for fucking real?”

  “Val. Please.” Cash rushes to pull on the clothes scattered around the bed. “Calm down.”

  Calm down? “Your fucking assistant? Really!”

  “I should leave,” Amelia mutters, apologizing as she scrambles to find her clothes.

  “Yeah, you should. You also should stop fucking your boss!”

  “Valeria!” Cash scolds. His pants are back on, but his dick is half hard and his muscular body is covered in a sheen of sweat. I don’t think I’ve ever found him so unattractive. I want to scream. I want to hit something. I want to throw one of his beloved antiques and watch it shatter into a million pieces, the same way he’s shattered my trust.

  But most of all, I want him to act like he actually gives a fuck.

  An apology. Beg for my forgiveness. Promise to never do it again. Something.

  Instead he stares at me as if I’m the one who screwed up, and I guess that tells me everything I need to know.

  I’m sitting at the table, staring out at our perfect yard and our perfect view when Cash emerges from the bedroom an hour later, his suitcase rolling at his side.

  “I’m staying at a hotel tonight.” His tone is controlled and lacks any emotion. “Tomorrow, we can discuss this like adults.”

  A scoff flies from my mouth.

  “You’re obviously upset and I’m giving you time to process.”

  “How long?”

  “I booked one night.”

  “No.” I shake my head. “How long have you been fucking her?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “I said how long!” The volume of my screech makes him jump.

  His jaw is hard. “Six months.”

  “And what, you were just never going to tell me?”

  “You really want to do this now?” He crosses his arms.

  “I think you’ve lied to me long enough.”

  “I can’t be the only one who’s tired, Val.” He throws up his hands. “There isn’t any spark. No excitement left in our relationship.”

  I thought the worst moment of my life thus far was finding my partner of twelve years with another woman, but I was wrong. Discovering he’s leaving me for her, that’s a new low. “Are you breaking up with me?”

  “Amelia understands what I’m trying to create with my brand and my company. She’s interested in what I have to say.”

  She’s me, fifteen years ago.

  My gaze goes back to the window. “Get out.”

  I feel his stare, silence stretching between us. It punctuates the crater-sized hole in our relationship. This can’t be repaired. We aren’t coming back from this. After what he admitted, why would I even want to?

  “Fine. For tonight. I’ll arrange for someone to pack your things and help move you out tomorrow.”

  My gaze snaps to his. Is he serious? “Move out?” I let loose a bark of laughter, but it holds no humor. “This is our home. My home.”

  “No,” He shakes his head. “It’s mine. I bought it. My name is on the deed.”

  His callousness is another hit to my broken heart.

  As soon as he leaves, I let out a scream so animalistic it hurts my own ears. I give in to pain and drown my sorrow with a bottle of his finest liquor. The scotch tastes like motor oil on my tongue, but I drink it anyway. I wander around the house, his house, while tears blur my vision and sobs wreck my body. I refuse to sleep in the bed. I consider burning the damn thing, but self-preservation wins out.

  At some point I pass out and the hours pass in a restless state of exhaustion and worry. What am I going to do? Where am I going to go? Who do I even call? Every single one of my friends are friends of Cash’s. If put to the test, I’m not sure anyone would pick me. It’d be social suicide, and in this city reputation matters. It’s how deals are made.

  In the morning, my eyes open to the harsh bright light of the sun. I pat around for my phone and groan when I see the time. It’s almost ten. I desperately need a shower.

  There’s also a text waiting. It’s from him.

  Cash: Movers will arrive at ten. If you take anything that doesn’t belong to you, I will press charges.

  All the rage that was shoved down by sadness comes roaring to life. The arrogance. The audacity. “He cheated on me!” I scream into the empty room. The sound rings in my ears, but it doesn’t stop me from doing it again.

  Crazed energy moves through my veins. My hair is a wild tangled mess, I never took off my makeup last night, and I’m wearing nothing but a camisole and underwear. I stand on the sofa and raise my fists into the air. “He! Cheated! On me!”

  There’s a knock at the back window.

  “Fuck!” I clutch my chest, startled by the man standing outside. My pulse races until my brain catches up. It’s Wednesday. It’s the pool guy.

  He stands there, staring as he knocks again. “Are you okay?” He mouths the words. The poor kid is barely twenty, but the concern in his gaze melts my anger into pain.

  I shake my head no and sit back down on the couch.

  He knocks again.

  I don’t know what he wants. Maybe he needs to be paid? Maybe he’s worried for my safety. I stand and walk over to the back door, unlocking it before swinging it open.

  “You look like you could use a hug.”

  That’s it. This stranger does me in. All the broken pieces of my life cut like glass. I feel as if I’m physically breaking inside. My tears flow as his arms wrap around me. I sob. I scream. I cry. But he doesn’t let me go, anchoring me to the moment. A witness to my heartbreak. I don’t know how long we stand like that, but when I finally lift my gaze, it’s to a camera crew and a grinning Cash.

  15

  RYAN

  The kitchen is clean and Tess is asleep in her bed for the night. With Riley and Zach staying over at friends’ houses tonight, I don’t even need to wait up. I should go to bed. It’s well past the time I normally turn in, but instead I sit at the table, sipping a glass of wine while attempting to not obsessively check the window.

  Because Val’s not back.

  I’m only waiting to make sure she gets home safely. At least, that’s how I rationalize trading precious sleep for the chance Val might feel like chatting when she gets back from my sister’s.

  The dogs jump up from the floor. Sammy cocks his head toward the door and Ryder growls. I glance out the window and find a pair of headlights making their way down the drive. “Good job,” I compliment and give them each some love. These dogs are better than any security system.

  I hope she had a good time.

  I hope she feels accepted and welcome by Maeve’s friends.

  I hope she decides to stay in Wilder Valley awhile.

  It might be strange to miss someone before they’re gone, but that’s exactly how I feel about Val. She’s been here a week and I’ve already formed an attachment. I enjoy her conversation. Her laughter. The way she cares for my children.

 

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