3. An apartment in another woman's name

SARA’S POV

The address led us to a huge expanse of land. On it sat a large apartment.

“Do you think…?” I stopped. “I just want to know what the house is all about.”

Dave had told me he was building a branch for the company. But the building in front of me didn’t look like a company.

“Do you need any help?” Horace asked.

I shook my head. “No. I can handle this.”

I stepped out of the house, wiping every tear from my face. I stepped towards the house, looking around. It was beautiful and larger than the house we had in Chicago. I would have been excited about it if I had not just seen him kissing my best friend.

“Excuse me.”

I turned around sharply and met a young man behind me.

“How can I help you?”

Immediately, the car door opened and Horace stepped out.

“I’m alright,” I told him. “I can handle this.”

I returned to the man before me. “Mrs. Wright,” I said, introducing myself.

His face beamed with recognition.

"Oh, I’m sorry. You look a little different today.”

“Different?”

“My apologies.”

I swallowed. “Can you be discreet? I wouldn’t want my husband knowing that I came here.”

“Uhm…sure.”

I chuckled. “He’s trying to surprise me…and I really just want to see if he’s doing a good job with the interiors. He doesn’t have to know that I was here. Do you understand?”

He nodded quickly. “Of course.”

“Do you have a key or something?”

He shuffled through his pocket. I took the key and walked to the front door. The moment I stepped inside, I stopped. The house was completely furnished. But that was not what made me stop.

Her photographs were everywhere. And that was when it occurred to me. Dave was building a house for Liz.

I didn’t know how I made it to the car. But somehow, I found myself seated and the car began moving.

“I c-can’t believe he’d this to me,” I broke. “Dave…”

Horace sat quietly.

“I gave him everything, Horace. M-my life…my hardwork—my company. I gave that motherfucker everything…” I sniffed. “And even when he wouldn’t let me run the company with me, I understood. But all this time…”

Dave was struggling when I met him. His company was almost bankrupt and he needed my logistic company to run service for him. I had given his company everything to survive.

Everything.

Liz was at our wedding. She was my bridesmaid. She knew how much I loved Dave. How could she do this to me?

“I’m sorry,” Horace finally said. “But we’re both caught up in this mess.”

I sniffed and nodded. “H-how…my heart is broken, Horace. I can’t…” I broke off, sobbing. He pulled me against his side and patted my hair gently. For a few minutes, I remained there, listening to the way my heart was racing.

Then I pulled up. “I can’t go home tonight," I said. “I can’t deal with walking into that apartment tonight.”

“What do you want?”

“Anywhere but there,” I said.

He nodded softly, then spoke to the driver. “Take us to a hotel nearby.”

Horace booked a single room for the two of us. I didn’t complain because I knew, more than anything, that I needed company. Besides, Liz told me he was going broke after his company had gone bankrupt and was sold. When we arrived at the room, my head was pounding.

“I need to take a shower,” I told him.

“After you.”

I slipped into the bathroom and ran the shower through my hair. Never in a thousand years would I have believed that Dave would hurt me this way. I stepped out a few minutes later. Horace was on a call and was now wearing nothing but a towel that hung low around his butt.

I stared at it longer than I should have. And when he turned to face me, I wished the butt had been all I saw. His chest was sturdy, muscles tight in a way that would make you dream of touching them.

Horace was hot.

“Are you fine?” he asked, frowning.

“Damn,” I muttered under breath. I needed something strong. I reached for the bar and poured myself some drinks.

“Let me help you,” he said, stepping forward.

No, he wasn’t helping.

I grabbed the cup, gulping the liquid, while staring at his body. How could Liz have a man this hot and cheat on him?

“Can I trust you not to get drunk?” he asked. “I have to take a shower.”

I scoffed. “I can handle my liquor, Horace. Have your bath.”

My eyes trailed him as he walked to the bathroom. I poured more wine and drank. I had almost finished the entire bottle when he returned to the room.

“Sara,” he said, reaching for the bottle. “Getting drunk isn’t going to help you.”

I snickered. “What is? Huh? Tell me, Horace? What is going to make me forget that my husband is currenly fucking your wife? My fucking cousin?”

I stared at him. Water was dripping from his hair to his body in a way that made him look irresistible. A smile danced on my face. I dropped the wine glass.

“You know what? You’re right. Why should I be here, crying, when he’s having a good time?” I scoffed. “He’s busy fucking her more times than he eats whereas he hasn’t touched me in months.” I raised my eyes to Horace. “You tell me, is Liz sexier than I am?”

He frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re clearly—”

“Drunk?” I laughed. “I’m not drunk, Horace. I’m sober. Sober enough to feel the hurt…and hurt enough to want it to go away.”

I reached out for the belt of my robe. “So, tell me, Horace…” I pulled it off and he looked away. “Just tell me that I’m not as sexy as Liz, and I would understand why he’s cheating on me.”

“Put on your clothes, Sara.”

I shook my head. “No. I’m sick and tired of men telling me what to do.”

“What do you want?”

My eyes roamed his body and the craziest idea formed in my head. “You.”

He faced me. “What?”

“You heard me. I want you, Horace. I want Dave to hurt like I’m hurting…and I want you to forget about Dave tonight. That’s what I want.”

“Sara…”

I stepped forward. “Will you say no?”

“You’re drunk.”

“No, I’m not.”

I reached for the towel around his waist, pulling him to myself. “What’s it going to be? Are you going to cry against that pillow…or are we going to do something better.” My hand fell against his chest and I exhaled softly.

“Revenge sex, Horace. That’s what I want.”