veins, her voice feeling like a bullet in my chest. Fuck no. Please. No.
My head jerked to the tall blonde, my mind and eyes wanting to reject what it saw. This can’t be happening.
Her hair was longer, and she definitely had a lot more Botox but was still unbelievably beautiful. Cold. Aloof. How did I not see there was nothing warm about her?
She wore a slim blue dress and heels, her straight blonde hair sleek like pure snow. Her parents were from Belgium, giving her a more European look—blue eyes, full lips, and high cheekbones, which had made me once a whipped fool. Her face and nails were painted to perfection, her designer bag sitting by her side like an obedient puppy.
“Becca?” I gaped, my head shaking in denial.
“Hi, sweetheart.” She took a step closer, paying no attention to Kinsley.
But I was. Her hand slipped from mine, her head going between us like a ping-pong match.
“Wh-what are you doing here?”
“I told you I would come for you. You wouldn’t see me otherwise.”
“How did you find me?”
“Private investigator. Tracked our phone call.”
“Private investigator?” I could hear my voice rise.
“You are being stubborn, like you can be. I had to. You gave me no choice.”
“How about not coming at all,” I growled.
“Smith.” She tilted her head, pleading. “Please. We have so much to talk about. I miss you so much. I know we can work this out. I love you.”
I felt Kinsley jerk next to me, taking a step back. I twisted for her, my hand reaching out. “Kins—”
“Kinsley Maxwell, right?” Becca cut me off, stepping up to Kinsley, her manicured hand reaching out.
“Ye-yeah.” Kins looked at me and back to her in confusion, not taking Becca’s hand. I knew Becca enough to know her private investigator found out every little detail of my trip, including who I was with.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Rebecca.” A false pleasant grin curved her red mouth, telling me my world was about to crumble.
The secrets of my past had final tracked me down.
“I’m Rebecca Blackburn. Smith’s wife.”
Chapter 17
Kinsley
Smith’s wife? Smith’s wife!
Her claim rang in my head like a shrill alarm.
“Wha-what?” The room spun around me as I stepped back away from both of them, my gaze darting from the stunning woman who looked like she just stepped off a runway, to Smith, hoping this was somehow a joke they were playing on me.
His face told me it wasn’t. Panic, guilt, fear.
My stomach dropped to the ground. I felt the gumbo we had shared earlier coming up my throat, and my feet shuffled back.
“Kinsley. Wait. You don’t understand.” His blue eyes pleaded with me, his hand reaching for me.
“Are you married to her?” I whispered hoarsely, moving away from his reach. “Is she your wife?”
Becca flicked at a huge diamond on her ring finger. “For four and half years now.”
My gaze shot to Smith, begging for the possibility this was all a mistake. “Smith?”
“Yes, she is, but…”
“Oh god,” I whispered, feeling bile fill the back of my throat, pain slicing through my chest.
Rebecca Blackburn.
Not his ex-girlfriend or ex-wife. Current. Now.
“You don’t understand.” Agony sliced across his face, moving toward me. “Please listen to me.”
“And that is all I’m asking of you, baby.” Becca grabbed Smith’s hand, lacing her fingers through his. He wrenched it away, fury stacking up his shoulders.
“Don’t touch me.” He leaned into her face, snarling. “And there is nothing you can say that will change my mind. Nothing.”
“Smith. I love you.”
“Fuck you, Becca. You don’t know what love is.”
I couldn’t stand there anymore. Listening to them.
Husband and wife.
I treaded back again, the need to run crawling up my legs, turning me toward the stairs.
“Kinsley! Wait!” Smith bellowed, running after me. He caught up to me, tugging my arm back. “Listen to me.”
“Let go!” I yelled, ripping it back.
“Kins…”
“How could you?” My lungs struggled to breathe, pain grinding my chest. “You slept with me, and you’re fucking married?”
“Kins, you don—”
“No!” I batted away his hands. “There is nothing you can say to make this better.” I tried to stop a tear from trailing down my face. “Jesus, I knew you were a bastard, but this is beyond cruel.”
“Kinsley, please.”
“Stay away from me.” I turned again for the stairs, but he caught me again.
“Fuck. Let me get one word out.” He turned me to him, his eyes wild. “We are in the process of getting divorced. She just needs to sign the papers.”
“What?” I searched his eyes for the truth.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t want you