I feel like an outsider standing behind a window of emotion peering through a veil that's kept me blind for so long. Everything in me wants to turn around and run, but I refuse to go until Croix sees me. He needs to know that I found out his little secret. How could I not have known about this?
The few seconds that it takes for Croix and the woman to notice me feels like hours. It's long enough for the image of them entwined to be permanently burned into my mind. Their bodies are pressed so tightly together that there's no space between them.
The woman occupying Croix's arms is absolutely beautiful. Her long dark hair is radiant and silky. Her skin is so bronze that she appears to be foreign, but I'm pretty sure she's just sun-kissed. A lavender maxi dress is draped across her svelte body, making her look like a Greek goddess.
They disengage from the embrace and Croix finally sees me. The flash of panic in his expression is all the confirmation I need that what I suspect is true.
“Raven, what are you doing here?” There's a coldness to his voice that seems oddly misplaced. If anyone should be angry, it's me.
My mouth goes dry as I search for words. Suddenly, I forgot why I came. All I can think about is the two of them together.
Now, the woman is looking at me too. I expect her to be just as confused as I am, but instead, there's only disdain behind her brown eyes. It's as if they're both silently chastising me for interrupting them.
My heart thuds in my chest and my gaze falls to the little girl. She stopped just short of Croix. The way she's gazing up at him is telling that she can feel the tension in the room. She knows something is wrong.
Wanting to save her from witnessing an argument, I decide to be the bigger person. There's really nothing to discuss here anyway. I've seen all that I need to see. The gig is up. Croix and I are over.
There's so much bitterness on my tongue, but I swallow it down as I turn to take long strides towards the front door. Part of me hopes that I'm wrong—that Croix will give chase and say this was all a big misunderstanding. He doesn't, further proving that what I saw is exactly what's going on. This entire time, I've been his side piece. He may not be married to her—he can't be to volunteer at The Billionaires Club—but there's something going on between them.
I feel like a ghost fleeing the beach house. No one trails behind me. I close the front door and walk down the steps, making it all the way to my car without a hint that anyone gave much thought to me being there at all. I even sit in my car for several seconds, staring at the house holding onto hope that Croix will come for me. That hope drips away quickly, and when I realize that there's no point in clutching onto it any longer, I put my car in drive and pull away.
Tears sear my cheeks. If I wasn't wearing anything but a trench coat and some lingerie, I'd head straight to the nearest bar. Part of me considers doing it anyway. It's not like anyone will know that there's little beneath the coat.
I know I'm in no position to be in public, though. My emotions are all over the place. There's no way I would be able to keep my tears at bay, and drinking will only make things worse. Before long, I'd be a sobbing mess. It's better if that happened behind closed doors.
By the time I pull into my driveway, I look like something from a horror movie. Quite a bit of my eye makeup has run down my face with my tears. My cheeks are blotchy, and my nose is red from all of the sniffling I've done. Even my hair has somehow managed to become disheveled. It's like I've literally begun falling apart at the seams.
The second I kill the engine, my phone buzzes. I turn it over to find a text message from Croix.
Croix: It's not what you think.
He conveniently left out an apology and details. Not very convincing.
I stare at the text message for several minutes, waiting for him to follow it up with something else. When he doesn't, I text back.
Raven: Was that your daughter?
It's not the question I should be asking. Not the one that matters the most. I can't force myself to ask the obvious question, though.
Croix: Yes.
His short response puts me even more on edge. If it's not what I think, then why is he so reluctant to explain. He should be gushing out every detail and begging for my forgiveness.
Raven: Then it is what I think.
I climb out of my car and slam the door in anger before stomping up to my house. It's annoying that I can't seem to get a hold of myself. My hands shake as I locate the correct key and jam it into the lock to open the door. As if mocking me, the key pops out of the lock, slipping through my grasp and falling to the floor with a clanking sound.
My phone buzzes again, and I seethe as I pull it out of my purse. It's like all of the negative emotions flowing through me are a volcano about to erupt.
Croix: I'll explain later tonight.
I grip my phone so tightly that I worry it might shatter in my hand. My finger pokes at the screen so hard that my joints ache.
Raven: You're not going to see me tonight. You're not going to see me ever again.
Then I turn off my phone so that I don't have to deal with his bullshit again until I'm good and ready.
***
“What happened?” Cindy is on her feet and pulling me into her arms the second she sees that I'm crying.
She reminds me of my mother, and that only makes me sob harder. It's rare that I feel such a warm, caring embrace. Gone are the days when I could drive across town every time I needed a hug and unconditional love. This is as close to that as I can get now.
Cindy holds me until my trembling stops and speech returns to me. She leads me by the hand to the loveseat, and we sit side by side. I open my mouth and let out everything I saw and everything I'm feeling inside. My eyes stay glued to the coffee table, but my mind is fixed on the image of Croix and the woman together. She loves him; I can tell.
When I'm done pouring out my story, Cindy is quiet for several moments as she thinks about how to respond. All the while, she rubs my arm, trying to soothe me. It helps more than she'll ever know.
My pain is on a strange rotation. It started with Croix—thinking that I've been lied to and cheated on this entire time—then it flipped back to how I felt betrayed by Derrick. The loss of my parents followed that. It's the anguish train making its rounds.
“You don't want to hear him out?” Cindy asks timidly.
Immediately, my mood plummets further. It sounds like she had plans tonight—that she was excited to have me out of the house. It also reminds me that she's not my mother. Brings me back to the reality that I'm all I have in this world—the only one who truly cares about my problems. That's both disconcerting and terrifying right now. I need support, and the only other person I know who might give it is probably getting ready to hang out with my cheating boyfriend.
I want to call Raj, but it just doesn't seem right to completely disrupt Croix's birthday plans, despite what he did to me. Maybe I'm too soft. Actually, I know I am. If I weren't, I wouldn't have stayed with Derrick for so long.
“There's nothing to hear out.” I stand to head to my room.
If Cindy wants me out of her hair, the least I can do is spend the rest of the night tucked away. Being alone isn't going to do me any favors, though. Maybe I should go out. I just don't know anymore. I'm damned if I do, damned if I don't. This is one of those times when having no friends really sucks.
“Let me know if you need anything,” Cindy calls to me weakly before I reach my room.
“I will. Thanks,” I mutter so low that she probably couldn't even hear it.
As soon as I get to my room, I change into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, trying to think of something to do that will keep me distracted. The only solo activity that I can come up with is going to the movies. It's not very exciting, but it's better than sitting at home wallowing in my misery.
I get online to check out the movie listings, settling on a college comedy that looks stupid enough to be amusing. Then I grab my purse and head for the door.
“Did you decide to go see Croix after all?” Cindy asks.
“No. I'm just going to the movies.” I don't even turn to look at her.
I'm in such a hurry when I open the door that I almost rush out straight into the person standing on the other side. My eyes first land on the front of a deep red t-shirt, and my heart leaps at the thought that it's Croix coming to win me back. When my gaze reaches the man's face, though, bile shoots up to the back of my throat as I realize it's the last person in the world I want to see—my second reason for moving all the way across the country.
“What do you want?” My eyes narrow into slits as I stare at my brother in a mix of hatred and disbelief.
“Oh good, I have the right address.” His smile is forced. It has to be after the venom I just spit at him.
“Get lost.” I push past him, not interested in whatever he has to say. Our parents are dead. He can't possibly be here to deliver any more bad news.
“Raven, wait!” He gives chase.
When he grabs me by the wrist, I have to resist the urge to slap him as I pull away. Energy surges through my arm, making my fingertips tingle. If he only knew how badly I want to hit someone right now, he wouldn't have dared to touch me.
“I don't want to see you.” My eyelids press tightly together, trying to suppress the rage quickly bubbling to the surface. I'm about to see red, and if I see red, I'll no longer have control over my actions. The last thing that Cindy needs is for my brother and me to get into an all out brawl on her front porch.
“I understand,” he replies solemnly. “I did you dirty. I know that, but I came here to make amends.”
“Did you bring any money?” The bitter words fly out of my mouth before I can stop them.
“No.” If he's offended by the question, I can't tell.
That's what this all boils down to, though. When my parents died, he took everything. A forty-year-old attorney with a wife and kids, he was already set in life. I was just starting out. I had nothing.
Given his legal background and the fact that I had no money for legal fees, there was no way I could take him to court and expect to win. He knew that. That's why he made such a bold choice to fuck me over. I can still remember the last conversation we had, if you can even call it that. It was more yelling than anything else.
He said that taking the inheritance was payback for the fact that he had to work for everything growing up while our parents spoiled me. With a sixteen year age difference, our parents were in a different place financially when he was growing up than they were when I was growing up. It was no fault of mine, but he still held it against me.
“If you don't have my half of the inheritance, then there will be no making amends,” I tell him before climbing into my car and peeling out of the driveway.