Sparrow - L.J. Shen Page 0,90

smug. Sparrow would cash the check, I had no doubt, but she’d do it when she ran away and needed the cash. After all, she still didn’t know she’d be rich no matter what, seeing as my father made sure of it in his will.

I pressed back into the leather seat behind the wheel of my car and took a deep breath for the first time since I’d left the cabin. For now, she was here. With me.

I intended to keep it that way.

SPARROW

I HAD TO dodge Brock’s advances for another diner date. He hadn’t been at work since my confrontation with Catalina, but he waited for me on the corner of the street again after my shift on Monday night.

“Forget it,” I said, walking past him without sparing him a glance.

He caught up with my pace, his hands tucked inside his jeans pockets. “Give me a minute? It’ll be worth your while.”

“You keep saying that,” I ground out, the memory of his wife’s afternoon visit a couple of days ago still fresh in my mind. “But I don’t think you know what it means. Look, I’m sorry if you and Catalina aren’t working out, but I’m not diving headfirst into your mess. You’re married, so am I.”

It was disappointing to find out that sweet, beautiful Brock, whom I was initially attracted to, couldn’t take a hint, even when it was the size of a mountain.

It was even more disappointing to know that his wife was screwing my husband until a few short months ago, including after he married me.

Naturally, it wasn’t my business to tell Brock that. I was trying to put out fires, not ignite a blaze that’d scorch us all to hell, Sam included. That’s why I hadn’t talked about it with Troy since she came to see me. I didn’t need unnecessary drama. They were done. He’d fulfilled his side of our deal. There was nothing else to talk about.

“Sweetheart, I don’t want Troy to harm you. He’s dangerous.”

Was he kidding me? Did I give him a damsel in distress vibe? I was pretty sure I handled myself gracefully, even when help was needed. As it happened, I didn’t need saving. I was standing up to Troy on my own.

“Come with me. Let me show you something.” He stopped in front of a car, not as glitzy as Troy’s toy but eye-catching nonetheless, and opened the passenger door for me. “I promise, if you still think it’s not worth it, I will leave you alone.”

“The answer is no.” I picked up speed, almost breaking into a run. “Goodbye.”

I ran all the way back to the penthouse, trying to tell myself that I wasn’t scared, and merely pissed off. That Brock had good intentions, and I was just too drunk on Troy to realize that he was trying to help.

Back at home, I cracked open a bottle of something vintage and placed two glasses of wine near the white wool carpet by the fireplace downstairs. I polished off two drinks just to take the edge off the Brock encounter—the guy was radiating seriously stalker vibes. Then I went into the bathroom upstairs, the one I shared with Troy, to comb my hair and wash off the last of my day at Rouge Bis.

It saddened me that I put up with my husband’s secrets. Saddened me because I was no longer able to deny the truth. I was desperately in love with my husband.

Every day he took up more space in my heart. With every moment, it became a bit more difficult to breathe when he wasn’t around. My love for Troy Brennan wasn’t romantic or sweet—it was violent and needy. It was a cancer, spreading inside my body, multiplying into hundreds and thousands of new cells with every beat of my heart. No chemotherapy, no miracle cure. Every heartbeat, I slipped a little more. Drowned a little deeper. Fell a little further into the bottomless ocean of feelings for him.

I heard the bedroom door slamming shut and dropped my head back, closing my eyes just so I wouldn’t have to see myself in the mirror. Facing yourself was hard when you’d given up yourself for someone else.

“Is it possible to feel your heart breaking, even when you’re falling in love?”

I brushed my long hair. Yes. It was. Here I was, falling in love, and getting my heart broken at the very same time. A knock on the bathroom door reminded me of the first time we talked,