Bad Boy (An Indecent Proposal) - J.C. Reed Page 0,61

pulled away but he didn’t let go. “Twelve months. That’s how long it’ll take me to get your inheritance back.”

“Twelve months,” I repeated. “In twelve months I want my divorce. Until then…”

“I’ll stay away if that’s what you want.”

“That’s what I want, Chase. No contact. I don’t want to hear from you again.”

His jaw set, but he said no more. He let go of me. I used the opportunity to get up and walk past him, closing the door behind me.

Chapter 20

The moment I slammed the door behind me, a first ripple escaped my throat. Pressing a hand against my mouth to stifle the sound, I headed for the bathroom and locked up behind me.

It was the only place where I knew Chase wouldn’t hear the silent cries.

It was the only place where I felt it was safe to let out my emotions.

To escape the pain I was feeling. When I had asked for a divorce, every part of me broke. It broke in the knowledge that I had fallen in love with him, and that no matter what I said or did, I wasn’t important to him. He wanted his revenge, and once he got it, I’d be a part of his past.

In spite of his claims, I was a tool he’d discard of once he didn’t need it any more.

Stripping off my clothes, I stepped inside the small cubicle and turned on the water, the coldness seeping into my skin.

It was going to be hard, but between the choice of seeing Chase every day, feeling the pain of knowing he’d never love me the way I loved him, and the choice of staying away, feeling the pain of his absence, I knew I’d rather go for the latter.

I sunk to my knees, burying my face in my hands, and let the water pound against my naked body in the hope it could wash away the pain, the love, my soul.

I didn’t know how long I just sat there, stuck in that one place where my dreams had been crushed, and I was forced to face the harsh reality that I had been a pawn in Chase’s game.

Eventually, the crying ebbed, and I forced my shivering body into an upright position.

I forced myself to take slow steps toward the mirror and face the woman I had become.

Her reflection stared at me, her eyes hard, unforgiving, as if she was questioning my decision.

“Shut up,” I whispered to her and wrapped a towel around my shivering body, then returned to my room to change.

Everything felt empty now that I knew Chase would be gone. He didn’t say when he’d be leaving, but my heart was already missing him like crazy. A few times, I caught myself glancing toward the door in the hope he’d magically appear and tell me his plans had changed.

That’s when I noticed the piece of paper on the floor.

Chase. I knew it was from him.

I dashed for it, my breathing trapped in my chest, as I lifted the paper to read the beautiful cursive.

Laurie,

I don’t want to part like this. Please meet me at the beach.

The driver’s waiting for you downstairs. If you don’t want to come, I’ll respect your wishes. You’ll get your divorce papers nonetheless.

I promise.

-C

No xox. No love. Nothing. Only a simple word: promise.

Promise could mean a lot of things in Chase’s world. It could also mean nothing.

I couldn’t go. Of course, I couldn’t.

It was out of the question. And yet my heart longed to see him one more time. After all the crying, I felt as if the worst was over. I had accepted that things were over, that nothing would change his mind, that he’d sign the divorce papers after the twelve months were over, that things between Clint and I would never be the same again after what Chase was about to do—not that they were great to begin with.

I retrieved my phone from where I had left it on the bed and scrolled through my missed calls. Clint’s number showed up a few times. Sitting down, I speed-dialed his number, my pulse spiking.

“Hi, Clint.” My voice sounded different. Strangled. Defeated. As if a part of me had died.

“Lauren.” His fake voice echoed down the line. “How’s my favorite girl doing?”

I cringed at his choice of words. It wasn’t like he had a few daughters.

“I’m good.”

A pause, then, “Where are you? I’d like to talk to you.”

“I’d rather do this over the phone.”

Another heavy pause.

“Why are you making things difficult for