FOUR

KEONA

I’m not going to cry. 

I repeat it over and over like a mantra as I tiptoe into Hardin’s study later that night. 

Instead of sitting around crying my eyes out, I’ve decided to use that time to find proof that my husband actually betrayed my trust.

I trusted him blindly. I gave myself to him for years, sacrificing my dreams to build our home. And all along, I didn’t realize I was married to the Devil himself. 

My teeth are gritted, venomous anger pulsing through my veins for the first time in years as I search cabinet after cabinet crammed with files. 

Thankfully, Hardin is meticulously organized. Just as I’m about to give up, I stumble on a file labeled “Pharmacy Purchases.”

I stare at it for three long seconds, my heart thundering wildly against my ribcage.

I let myself consider the possibility that maybe, just maybe, Hardin hadn’t known those pills weren’t vitamins. The bottles were labeled as vitamins, after all. It could have been an honest mistake.

This is the moment I find out whether he gave me those pills by accident… or if he truly meant to betray me.

I flip the file open with shaky fingers and scan through the first page. 

But I don’t have to go too far because the first words hit me like ice water;

CROMWELL PHARMACY CONTRACEPTIVE PRESCRIPTION

My throat tightens with white hot pain and my limbs grow weak, but I force myself to read further. 

According to the documents, Hardin had consistently ordered the contraceptive from his company’s pharmacy every month for two years. The same pills he had been giving me as vitamins. 

My fingers curl around the edges of the paper. 

For two fucking years, the man I call my husband looked me in the eyes and lied to me.

For two years, he saw how disappointed I looked every single time I took the pregnancy test and it was negative. 

For two years, he watched me daydream about our unborn son, while secretly plotting to make sure that dream never happened. 

Tears prick my eyes and I squeeze them shut. 

I refuse to cry for him again. I have cried enough tears over this man to last me a lifetime. 

Five minutes later, I’m still scanning through the documents when I hear the distant sound of the front door opening downstairs.

My heart stops.

“Mommy!” Cora’s excited voice floats through the house. 

Shit! They’re home. 

Acting purely on a fit of panic, I pull out my phone and start taking pictures of the documents splayed in front of me. I don’t stop until I have enough evidence to make it impossible for Hardin to lie his way out of this. 

Then I shove my phone back into my pocket, close the file and slide it back into place. 

My hands are still shaking, my heart is still breaking, but I don’t have time to fall apart. Not here. 

I slip out of Hardin’s office just as his deep voice starts drifting up the stairs.

Plastering a fake smile onto my face, I take a deep breath and walk calmly to the living room.

“Mommy!” Cora cries the moment she sees me. 

I’m well aware of Hardin standing right beside her, but I pay him no mind as Cora slams into me, wrapping her chubby arms around my waist.

I can’t help it, my smile turns genuine as I lift my daughter against my chest.

“Hi, baby. How was your birthday? Did you have fun?”

“Yes, mommy,” Cora smiles, planting a quick, wet kiss on my cheek. “The party was sooo fun. And guess what mommy? The cameramen kept asking if Sophia was my mommy. They said we really looked like a family. Me, Sophia and daddy.”

A sharp ache twists through my chest, but I ignore it, forcing my smile wider as I run my fingers through Cora’s soft curls. 

“That’s wonderful. Anyways, it’s late and you must be tired. Let’s get you in the shower, okay?”

“Okay, mommy.”

I turn around, my throat already closing up as I head for the stairs.

I’ve barely taken three steps when a familiar baritone stops me in my tracks.

“Keona.”

I pause, taking a second to gather myself and make sure my voice is not shaky before responding. 

“Yes?”

“Are you really going to act like you’ve not seen me?”

Before today, I always looked forward to my husband coming home.

I would wait for him at the door, then pounce on him with hugs and kisses the moment he walked into the house. 

I used to take his bag and follow him all the way to the room, talking his ear off about everything I did during the day. And now that I think about it, all I ever got in return were non-comittal grunts and one-word replies before he buried himself in his study for the rest of the night. 

I once overheard him telling his mother that all he wanted was some peace and quiet when he got home. 

I’m giving him exactly what he wants. So why is he complaining?

I draw in a slow breath, letting the bitterness settle over me. For once, I don’t feel guilty about it. 

“Welcome home, Hardin. I hope you had a wonderful day.”

My voice is cold enough to freeze hell. Exactly how I want it. 

Without sparing him another second of my attention, I lift my chin and continue on my way.

***

THE NEXT DAY…

I spend the night in the spare bedroom under the guise of having a video call with Maya. I do have a video chat with my best friend, but I spend most of it crying my eyes out while Maya reminds me, repeatedly, that Hardin is a prick.

I wish she was here with me and not all the way in Amsterdam. 

The next day, I’m not sure I’m ready to face Hardin, so I wait until eleven, when I’m certain the house is empty, before finally padding out of the guest room.

I rub my palms over my tired eyes, just about to step into the kitchen when a low, dangerous growl makes me jump;

“Are you done avoiding me?”

With a fist pressed against my thundering heart, I spin on my heel and find Hardin leaning against the east wall, those dark grey eyes trained intently on me. 

My gaze trails over his tall, impeccably dressed form, and I hate how clean and composed he looks in his perfectly tailored suit, while I most definitely look like a sleep-deprived hippie with a drinking problem.

“I asked you a question, Keona.” He takes one step forward and I instinctively take one back.

Hardin stops dead, angling his head to the side as he appraises me.

“You never walk away from me,” he observes quietly, “but in the space of twenty four hours, you’ve done it three times. What’s with the tantrums, Keona?”

Tantrums?

You lied to me for two years, fucking allowed another woman to kiss you on national TV, and I’m the one throwing tantrums? 

“I’m fine.” I choke out instead. 

“You’re not,” he drawls, his voice low and edged with warning. “You’re always the one making a fuss that you can’t sleep unless we’re on the same bed. What happened last night?”

Is it my imagination or does he sound… pained?

I bite my bottom lip and look away from him before I’m forced to say something I’ll regret.

“You’re usually gone by now,” I observe, trying my hardest to keep the bitterness from my tone. “Why are you still here?”

Hardin lifts one brow and suddenly, I feel painfully exposed beneath his stare. I hate how easily he can read me when I’ve spent years struggling to figure him out. 

“So I was right,” he murmurs darkly. “You are avoiding me. Is this about the anniversary? I asked Mina to get you that necklace you liked…”

Anger spikes in my veins, and I snap my head up to meet his gaze, a thousand words fighting to escape my lips.

I want to scream that a necklace doesn’t make up for years of betrayal and neglect. 

But in the end, I just shrug, feeling completely drained. 

“Thank you. Can I go now? I need coffee.”

Something dangerous flashes in Hardin’s eyes, and my heart stutters when he takes another measured step towards me;

“If this is about Sophia’s appointment, then I was going to tell you before yesterday. It just… slipped my mind.”

Those words curl inside me like slow-acting poison. 

I open my mouth to speak but just then, the sound of Hardin’s ringtone shatters the silence. I look down, my chest tightening when I catch a glimpse of the name on the caller ID before he presses the phone to his ear.

“Sophie.”

Hardin’s features soften marginally as he speaks to his childhood sweetheart;

“Busy? No, I’m not busy. I’ll be there in the next twenty minutes.”

Shaking my head, I wrap my arm around myself and continue into the kitchen, feeling his eyes on me as I go.

I hear Hardin follow after me, but I pretend like he doesn’t exist while getting the fixings for my coffee. 

“We’ll continue this conversation when I get home,” he says in a clipped tone. “Fix your mood before I return.”

Fix my mood? Fix my mood while you run off to your mistress as usual? 

I grit my teeth, waiting to hear the front door close before grabbing my phone and dialing a number I should have called four years ago.

“Hello,” a professional female voice comes through the speakers. “Peter and Garter Solicitors speaking. How may I assist you?”

“My name is Keona. I'd like to set an appointment with your best divorce lawyers. I want to file for divorce…”