Chapter 006

Fatima calmed herself just enough to lift her hand and carefully wipe beneath her eyes with her thumb. She moved slowly, deliberately, grateful she hadn’t been wearing makeup. If she had, it would have smeared.

When she turned around to face Nicholas, her posture was straight, her expression controlled. She hadn’t stopped because she owed him an explanation. She stopped because she wanted to hear what he would say now.

“I made a mistake,” Nicholas said quickly, as if the words had been waiting on his tongue. “I’m sorry.” His face looked sincere, strained even. He was scared, she could see that much. The blank look she wore unsettled him. Fatima had never looked at him like this before. “We’ve been happy together,” he continued, his voice softer, coaxing. “We can’t just throw all of that away.”

She didn’t respond. She only stared at him, her eyes steady, unreadable.

He wasn’t wrong. Six years wasn’t nothing.

She had built her life around this man, shaped herself to fit into his world. She had stood by him, supported him, believed in him. But standing there now, she wasn’t sure any of that still mattered. A man didn’t cheat on his wife with the same woman for three years unless it meant something.

There was cheating she could almost understand, careless, meaningless encounters, stupidity she might have forced herself to swallow. But this was different. This was deliberate.

Three years of shared beds, shared laughter, shared secrets. Work trips. Late nights. All those times she had brought them food, smiling, thinking they were buried in business. She had played hostess and cook while they played lovers. He hadn’t only betrayed her; he had humiliated her, turned her into an unwitting servant in her own marriage.

“You can continue sleeping in the guest room,” Fatima said finally, her tone flat, as though she hadn’t heard his apology at all.

Nicholas blinked. “I said I’m sorry.”

She lifted her gaze. “And that’s supposed to be enough?”

His expression hardened. “You’re being unreasonable now.”

Her chest tightened, and her voice rose just slightly. “I’m being unreasonable?”

“Yes,” he said, frustrated. “What do you want me to do? Kneel? Worship you?”

The audacity stunned her. “How can you say unreasonable,” she asked, disbelief sharp in her voice, “when you had me cooking meals for you and your mistress? The woman you were sleeping with behind my back?”

“Oh, come on,” he scoffed. “I never asked you to do that.”

“Right.” She nodded slowly, swallowing past the lump in her throat, a bitter laugh slipping out before she could stop it.

“You know my life is at stake here,” he pressed. “If people find out we’re divorcing, the rumors will come back. They’ll believe them.”

“The rumors that were true?” Fatima mocked. “You wanted to renew our vows because a journalist saw you checking into a hotel with a woman, who I’m certain was Leslie.”

“This is unfair,” he snapped. “Bonnie and Wave will suffer.”

“Oh, spare me,” she shot back. “If you cared about the kids, you wouldn’t have done this.”

“I’m human,” he argued. “It happened. If I could take it back, I would, but—”

“Is that mac and cheese I’m smelling?” Leslie’s voice cut through the tension as she entered the kitchen. She was wearing one of Nicholas’s shirts. Fatima noticed immediately. The fabric swallowed her frame, barely covering her thighs. Her stomach dropped as she turned slowly toward Nicholas, her eyes demanding an explanation.

“Leslie…” Nicholas moved toward her quickly as she began opening cabinets, touching Fatima’s pots like she belonged there. Normally, Fatima wouldn’t have cared. Tonight, the sight made her skin crawl. “Take my car,” he said hurriedly. “You should go.”

“Oh, there’s a storm,” Leslie replied casually, spooning food onto a plate. “I don’t like driving in storms.” She sounded unconcerned, hungry more than anything.

“I’ll have Jonathan drive you.”

Leslie stopped and turned to him. “You want to send the mother of your child out in this weather?” Her voice softened, sweetened. “That’s dangerous.” Nicholas hesitated, caught. Tongue-tied.

Fatima stood frozen, watching. Really watching. She studied Leslie as though trying to understand what had drawn Nicholas to her. Even in flat sandals, she was tall. Her legs were long and smooth beneath the oversized shirt. Her body was toned, curves full and unapologetic. Blonde hair fell neatly over her shoulders. Her makeup was flawless. That’s when it hit Fatima, she had never once seen Leslie bare-faced.

“Come on,” Leslie said, lifting a spoon and pushing it toward Nicholas’s mouth. “Have a bite.”

That was enough.

Fatima turned and walked away, her steps controlled, measured. She refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing her unravel.

Nicholas made to follow, but Leslie stopped him. “I’ll talk to her,” she said calmly. “She’ll understand me better.” She kissed his cheek before striding after Fatima, her long legs carrying her quickly through the steps.

Fatima had nearly closed the bedroom door when Leslie caught it, forcing it open. “We need to talk… I know the passcode,” she added coolly. “I’ll open it if you lock it.”

Fatima stared at her. “You know my bedroom passcode?”

Leslie rolled her eyes, amused. Of course she did. All those times Fatima had been at work, all those hours Nicholas claimed they were busy, what else did she think they’d been doing?

“I’m not leaving until we talk,” Leslie said quietly. “Unless you want the kids to wake up.”

Fatima hesitated, then stepped aside, allowing Leslie in. Leslie was right, she had no choice. The kids would wake up, and that was something she wasn’t ready to deal with. And even then, a part of her wanted to hear what the woman had to say.