Kylie heard a strange song, something that didn’t quite compute through the grog of sleep. She didn’t open her eyes right away, and the sound died, only to start up again. It was like a soft, tinkling hum in the back of her mind, and she rolled over to pull the pillow over her head, as if that would make it go away. But when she turned over, a bright light hit her eyelids, and she squinted, trying to block it. She wasn’t ready to wake up yet.

She snuggled in closer to Jordan’s warm body, but the infernal music started up a third time, and she realized it wasn’t in her head. It was Jordan’s phone, and he didn’t seem to be waking up to the sound. Grunting, she rolled back over and fumbled on the nightstand to grab the device, hoping it wasn’t an emergency and yet knowing she’d be pissed off if it wasn’t.

Her vision blurred as she scowled at the caller ID, but she was reasonably sure it was the same caller, Krys. The Stepsister. Normally, she wouldn't answer someone else's phone, not even Jordan's, but he snored softly behind her, blissfully unaware that someone was calling, and this was the sixth or seventh time at least that she'd called. Something must be wrong. She decided to answer and, if she needed to, she'd wake Jordan up after. Otherwise, she'd take a message for him.

Clearing her throat, she pressed the button and put the phone to her ear. “Hello?”

“I’m sorry. Do I have the wrong number?” came a soft feminine voice with a thick Australian accent. “I’m looking for Jordan.”

“No, this is the right number.” Kylie fought the thick slur of sleep and blinked several times, trying to fully clear her head. She looked over her shoulder. Jordan hadn’t even stirred. “He’s indisposed at the moment. Can I give him a message for you?”

“I’m sorry,” she said again. “I don’t mean to…interrupt.” The woman – Krys, she assumed – sounded anxious and upset, and there was a tremor in her voice. “Could you tell him Krys needs to speak with him? It’s important. It’s about our daughter.”

Our daughter. Kylie had to have misheard. Maybe she really wasn’t awake yet. This was his stepsister, right? And they had never dated. Kylie had this conversation with Jordan last night. But then, how hard would it be to make up stories about a woman half a world away? Could Kylie really believe that, hearing this woman reference having a child with him?

“Hello? Miss, I really need to make sure Jordan gets the message.”

Sitting up sharply, Kylie pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to make sense of it. “Yes, of course. His daughter.”

“Yes, thank you. It’s very important, so as soon as he’s available, please have him call me.” The line went dead, and Kylie sat there holding the phone and staring at the screen for several minutes. What the actual hell was going on?

She knew she needed to wake Jordan, demand an explanation, but she couldn’t face him, not without trying to piece this together, make something logical out of it. Kylie set the phone on the nightstand and ripped her hands through her hair. Was she a fool? Had she been played all along? Just last night, she’d thought how much she trusted Jordan, how he’d never lied to her and she would have stood by him without question had he been in the same situation as Marcus.

Now, all of that was in question. Something was off. Maybe the woman was just trying to discredit him for some reason, the same way the bitch in Washington had tried to blame Marcus. But that seemed too coincidental. And if that was the case, why would Jordan have her number saved?

So, maybe this Krys misspoke somehow, referring to her daughter as ‘our daughter’ because it was a child that belonged to her and someone who might be with her at the moment. But if that was the case, why hadn’t she said ‘my daughter’ or referred to her as Jordan’s niece? And why had Jordan ignored the calls last night if there was a reasonable explanation for all of this?

Kylie turned to stare at his sleeping form, her heart sinking. After all this time, maybe she still barely knew him. What if it was all a lie, every bit of what they’d shared? No, that wasn’t possible. No one could lie when raw emotion came through their eyes and their actions. What happened between them last night wasn’t a lie. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t hiding something from her.

Swallowing hard against a sob that threatened to escape, Kylie stood and went to the closet. She pulled out a t-shirt and jeans, dressing quickly, and then she wrapped her hair into a messy bun. She slipped her feet into the first pair of shoes she found, grabbed her phone and keys, and left. She stood waiting for the elevator, trying to figure out where she was going.

Anger built inside, and just as the elevator door opened, she turned on her heel, striding back to her apartment. She couldn’t’ walk away without answers. She deserved that much, and she wouldn’t allow fear or pain or confusion push her into making a rash decision, like walking out and never speaking to him again.

Storming back into her place, she threw the bedroom door open, and the sound of it hitting the wall finally woke Jordan. He groaned and rolled over, blinking awake. His gaze searched the room, and when it landed on her, he smiled briefly before the smile faded to worry. “Is something wrong?” he asked, still sounding half asleep.

“I don’t know. You should probably call Krys and find out.” She hadn’t meant to spit the words with such venom, but his nonchalance fueled her fury, and she took another step into the room. “She says she needs to talk to you. It’s important.” She paused. “About. Your. Daughter.”

His expression tightened, and he sat up, his eyes moving away from her and toward the bright morning sun coming through the window. “I see.”

Kylie scoffed, floored at his response. “’I see’? Is that all you have to say to me? So, she didn’t say it wrong. You have a daughter with her.” Her words were clipped and harsh, but she couldn’t help it. It was this or tears and falling apart. She wouldn’t be weak now. Kylie had worked too hard to make herself strong and resilient.

“Yes, we have a daughter, but it’s not what you think.” He spoke in a monotone, low and raspy, and Kylie wanted to shake him, find some emotion below the surface. She could deal with just about anything better than stoicism.

“Oh, really? You can’t imagine the crazy shit I’m thinking!” she countered, trying to get a rise out of him. “Jordan, you lied to me. You told me she was your stepsister—“

“She is my stepsister!” he cried, standing and turning to face her, his eyes wild and his entire body tense. “She’s my stepsister and the mother of my child.”

Kylie inhaled sharply, staring at Jordan in disbelief. “You’re sick,” she said, shaking her head. How could he… She shivered, just thinking about it. “Do you love her?”

He let his head fall forward and shook it. “That was never what it was about, Kylie. When we got married—“

“Married?” she cried, cutting him off. She had to put her hand on the wall to balance herself as her mind reeled. Suddenly, things were starting to make sense. She gaped at him, the realization slamming into her heart and shattering every hope and dream she’d stupidly formed. “Oh my god. You’re married. With a child.” The last word came out as a choked sob. “You don’t have a problem settling down. That’s a cover so you can get your rocks off and never have to worry about commitment because you’re already married.”

“Kylie, please, it’s not what you think.” His words were desperate, his eyes pleading, but Kylie didn’t care.

“You’re such a liar. You said you’d never hurt me, told me all these things about who you were, and all of it was a lie. Get out, Jordan. Get your shit, and get out of my apartment. Get out of my life!” He opened his mouth, but she refused to hear it, instead pointing to the door and screaming, “Leave!”

He pressed his lips together tightly, and Kylie ignored the pain in his eyes. Nothing he felt could ever match the anguish she suffered right now. How could she be so stupid? Here she was, ready to believe that he was in love with her because he’d been tender and gentle and needy in bed. But he had this whole other life across the globe, with a wife and daughter and god only knew who else.

She wondered how many times he’d pulled this trick, and she was disgusted with herself. As she watched him dress and gather his things, she wanted nothing more than to climb in the shower and wash the stench of his betrayal from her body, but she knew it wouldn’t take away the stain on her soul.

Following him out of the bedroom to make sure he didn’t stop on the way, Kylie crossed her arms over her chest and held her chin high, grinding her teeth so hard it hurt in an attempt to keep it from trembling. As he reached for the door handle, Jordan turned to look over his shoulder, and Kylie winced at the expression on his face. She turned away, unwilling to meet the sadness and loss that matched her own. It wasn’t real, was it? “For what it’s worth, Kylie, it’s you I love.”

The door clicked closed behind him as his parting words pierced through her like a perfectly aimed bullet, and she fell to the floor, her shoulders shaking with her sobs. She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. She felt like the oxygen had been stolen from the room, like her lungs would never fill up enough to satisfy her again. Her stomach hurt, crushed as if a giant stood on it. Her limbs grew heavy with the weight of lead pouring into them, and she laid on her side, curling her knees up under her chin as she bawled.

She didn’t know how long she was there, but she couldn’t make herself move. Her tears came so long and so thick that, when they ran dry, her skin itched and felt tight, and the sensation of her stinging eyes being dry was completely foreign. She could barely see, the swelling so thick, but it didn’t matter. She didn’t want to have her eyes open. She didn’t want to acknowledge the world around her because then she would have to admit to herself that time didn’t stop. Everything else still moved on, and she was stuck here, in her own personal, agonizing hell, alone.

At some point, she pushed herself into a sitting position and scooted toward the wall to lean back, hugging her knees to her chest. She didn’t have the strength to move any further, the weight of the world crashing down on her. Kylie realized she’d fallen for Jordan, but when had those feelings crept so deep into her that breaking ties literally felt like ripping herself in half. She’d had feelings for men before, even if it hadn’t been love, but she’d never even experienced more than a few minutes of sadness and loneliness ending it with them.

This was different. This was life-altering.

Sniffling again, Kylie forced her body to move, pushing slowly to her feet with the aid of the wall behind her back. Her knees wobbled, her head throbbed, and her back and shoulders ached. But she had to do something other than sit here and feel sorry for herself. She hurt too badly, inside and out, to let herself fester in the heartache. The recovery was going to be difficult enough if she just bucked up and faced it down.

She was almost surprised to realize night hadn’t fallen and that it was only midafternoon as she headed to the shower. She needed to clean up and eat something. Food was essential to livelihood, and she wouldn’t waste away because of a man. Not even because of Jordan.

She scrubbed her skin and hair raw, telling herself it would help with a fresh start, make her feel cleansed of the wrongdoing, but then she realized that Jordan hadn’t been the only one to do wrong. Even if she hadn’t known about Krys and the daughter, she was guilty for sleeping with a married man. She’d betrayed Krys and the girl as much as Jordan had betrayed her. The guilt caused a fresh wave of anger and resentment, aimed at herself, and Kylie washed again before finally climbing out of the intensely hot shower and drying her skin with punishing force.

As she heated some soup on the stove, she finally went to find her phone, which had been on silent the whole time. She had several missed calls from Jordan and three texts she deleted without reading. The office called, asking if she could come in on her day off for a meeting, but obviously that hadn’t happened. And who could create art when they felt as black and tarnished as she did today anyway?

There were also two missed calls and a text from Reesa. The text was simple. Are you okay? Call me as soon as you’re up to it. So, Jordan had gone to Marcus, who had passed along the information to Reesa. She wondered how honest he’d been about what happened. Then again, she wondered if Marcus knew all along what was going on. He and Reesa had probably already had that discussion, though, and had Marcus known, Reesa would be here now, the two of them mourning failed relationships together.

The soup boiled, and she pulled it off the flame but left it, deciding that what she needed right now was a friend to talk to, someone to keep her company who would let her rage but also keep her from doing anything irrational. She called Reesa back, and within minutes, her best friend was on her way, promising to arrive with an armload of junk food.