Love Triangle: Six Books of Torn Desire

by Willow Winters

  Let me know when you land. That’s all the email says.

  I clear my throat as my hand balls into a fist and I run the rough pad of my thumb over my knuckles slowly. I can see my reflection in the screen as I do, the scowl, the dark circles under my eyes. The anger.

  When I was younger, this was all I wanted. I basically get paid to party and live in a perpetual state of drunkenness. I lived for the thrill.

  Kat used to love it too. Years ago, when we first met and things were different. I glance at the empty seat to my left and picture her. She used to play with the buckle on every flight. Unbuckle, buckle, unbuckle, buckle. I thought it was a nervous habit at first, but it was just due to the excitement.

  She loved coming with me to events. It was what we did together. Back when everything was the way it was supposed to be.

  Back when life was less complicated.

  Back when we were kids and I didn’t realize that life was going to catch up to me.

  A huff of a sigh leaves me as I shift in my seat and look back to my computer.

  I click over to the flight tab and see there are four hours remaining until we’ll land in London. Four hours to sit in silence and remember each and every moment that I fucked up. Every step that I took that led me to this very hour.

  I turned thirty-two four months ago, but I’m living the same life I had when we were in our twenties.

  She’s the one who changed.

  But I’m the one who screwed up.

  I run a hand down my face, trying to get the images out of my head.

  She can never know, but I was a fool to think I’d hidden it from her.

  There’s no way out of this.

  How can she love me, when she knows I’m lying to her?

  How can she forgive me, for a sin she has no idea I’ve committed?

  How can I keep her, when I don’t deserve her?

  Chapter Three

  KAT

  They don’t understand,

  Because they aren’t me.

  They don’t know what I feel,

  Or see what used to be.

  How can I tell,

  When they refuse to hear?

  How can I refute,

  When the truth is so clear?

  “So this is all bullshit?” Sue asks with a tone that says she doesn’t think it is as she motions to the paper. Her voice is soft, but the small coffee shop walls and my nerves make it seem louder than it is.

  “It doesn’t look like it’s …” I can’t finish my thought, my eyes drawn to the same picture I’ve stared at for hours last night, and the night before.

  “Well, she’s all over him. There’s no denying that.”

  “Women are always all over him.” My answer comes out flat. I used to like it. I loved it even. How they’d fawn over him, desperate for Evan’s attention. But he only had eyes for me.

  “Why is this one any different then?” The paper hits the slick, raised surface of the coffee table as she tosses it on top and immediately digs into her large Chanel hobo bag.

  It’s not the first, or the second or even the third time Evan’s had his name in the paper for less-than-angelic reasons.

  His reputation and even his livelihood rest on the fact that he’s gotten away with shit that would send most people to jail. At least he did before I met him. Now he gets paid to make sure his clients get the same fate.

  Sue talks as she pulls out a tube of bright pink lipstick and a compact mirror. “Do you think he really did it this time?” she asks as if the weight of our marriage doesn’t rest on my answer.

  The reason this time is different is because I know there’s truth to it.

  It’s because of how he reacts.

  It’s how he looks at me as if he’s guilty.

  “He says it’s not what it looks like,” I say and roll my eyes as I do, trying to downplay the pain that coils in my chest. My throat goes tight, but I’m saved by the return of Maddie.

  For so many years, since I first moved here really, there’s been one constant. And it’s these women. Jules, my first client and the New York socialite who brought us all together, isn’t here. I owe her so much for helping my career take off as quickly as it did, but Jules has everything and all she really wants is companionship. I know she’s getting settled into married life, but at least Maddie and Sue could meet me.

  “Pumpkin spice,” Maddie says as she sets a hot cup of coffee down in front of me. She doesn’t look me in the eyes, like she’s afraid doing even that will make me cry.

  The strong scent of cinnamon smacks me in the face, but I wrap my hand around the cup, giving her a grateful smile as she takes her seat to my right. I don’t like flavored coffee-I don’t even like pumpkin, but I’ll drink it. I desperately need the caffeine.

  My gaze returns to Sue, sitting straight across from me as she returns to the conversation and says, “He says it’s not what it looks like … And what does that mean?” It’s not a question, it’s an accusation and the two of us know it.

  “What does what mean?” Maddie asks innocently.

  “It means he’s lying,” Sue spits and folds the paper over, reading the article again. It’s only a paragraph, maybe two. And it doesn’t say much other than the fact that Samantha Lapour and her husband are now separated, due to an affair she had with my husband, Evan Thompson. Which is bullshit. They’ve been in a shitty marriage for months and they were separated long before this happened.

  Maddie’s expression turns hard, a warning look that would normally make me laugh considering how petite and naïve she is. “We’re talking about Evan,” she says under her breath. Her eyes stay on Sue and slowly Sue purses her lips and acknowledges Maddie.

  The newly divorced Suzette doesn’t give men a chance to explain. For good reason, too.

  “It’s fine,” I say lowly, shaking off the emotion rocking through my body and easing the tension at the table. “There’s no reason for us to get into this.” I don’t look at either of them, blowing on the hot coffee and reluctantly drinking it.

  “Well, what do you think?” Maddie asks me and then she picks up her own cup. The coffee shop on Madison Avenue is fairly empty, probably due to the light rain and chill of the pending fall in the air.

  As the shop door opens with a small chime and the busy sounds of the street flood into the small space for a moment, I think of how to answer her.

  And I don’t know what to say.

  I think he cheated on me.

  I think he’s sorry and he regrets it.

  I think he loves me.

  And I feel like a fool for still loving him and wanting him.

  That’s what I think as I look around the small coffee shop, taking in every detail of the white chair rail and tan walls. The framed photographs of abstract coffee pots and coffee beans keep my attention a little longer. I’ve never really noticed them before. This place is so familiar, yet I couldn’t have described any of these details if someone had asked me. I’ve been coming here for years for work and yet I’d never cared enough to look at what was right here in front of me.

  “Why would he lie to you?” Maddie asks, pulling my attention back to her. “I just can’t imagine Evan doing this.” My shoulders rise with a deep intake of breath as I pick at the small, square napkin on the table. I roll the tiny piece I’ve ripped off between my finger and thumb, watching as it crumples into a small ball.

  “I don’t know,” I answer softly. I can feel all the overwhelming sadness and betrayal rise up and make my throat tighten as I try to come up with a response. “Maybe I’m stupid, but I can’t remember him ever lying to me before.” I swallow thickly and flick the tiny ball onto the table. “Not like this.” Defeat drips from my words.

  “Sorry,” I tell them and wipe under my eyes, hating that I’m even bothering to cry. “I tried not to let it …” I can’t finish. I watch as the rain batters the large glass window in the front of the shop and I internally slip my armor back on.

  “Don
’t you dare be sorry,” Sue says with a strength that pulls my attention back to her. Her blunt blonde hair sways as she leans forward, moving closer to me and speaks with an undeniable authority. “If you want to cry, cry. If you want to scream, do it. Whatever you need to do, just let it out.”

  Maddie nods her head in my periphery, but I can’t do the same.

  What if I want to deal with it by falling into his arms and letting him lie to me? I know it’s not okay, yet that’s all I want. I want him to fight for me. I want him to love me. I want to forgive him, even if he won’t admit what he’s done.

  And that makes me a coward and a pathetic excuse for a modern-day woman, doesn’t it?

  The snide thought makes me turn my attention back to the dreary state of affairs outside. The clouds have set in and the sky quickly turns dark.

  “This is shit weather for our first meeting,” I say out loud, not really meaning to.

  “Way to turn the conversation,” Sue says as she picks up her coffee cup and takes a sip. Her light blue eyes stare back at me as she drinks and it almost makes me laugh. Almost.

  “So you’re meeting your client here?” Maddie asks, gracefully accepting my invitation to talk about anything else. I’ve never loved her more than in this very moment.

  I nod my head, still not trusting myself to speak and take a drink from the cup in front of me. I forgot it was pumpkin spice and I nearly spit it out, surprised by the flavor, but then I swallow it down. It’s not so bad.

  Maddie pulls her dark brown, curly hair over her shoulder and scrunches her nose as she takes in my expression. “You don’t like pumpkin?” she asks, raising a brow in disbelief.

  “It’s okay,” I answer her straight-faced and Sue erupts with a laugh that catches the attention of an elderly couple behind us. Her good humor is infectious and I find myself smiling. This is what I need. To talk and think about something else. Anything else.

  “I’ll get you something else,” Maddie offers as Sue starts to speak. “Just regular? Cream and sugar?”

  “Well, you look professional,” Sue says with a nod.

  “Thanks, but don’t worry about it, Maddie. It’s good.” I wave off her concern and take another sip. “I just need some caffeine.”

  “Trouble sleeping?” Maddie asks and I just nod my head once and turn back to the cup, hating that the conversation is moving backward, but I can’t help it.

  “I just wish I had …” I can’t finish the sentence and I struggle to come up with something to say as I push the hair from my face and try to remember what I want. I haven’t got a clue. “I wish I had my life together,” I practically whisper, but they hear and I know they do.

  “You do have your life together. You’re an established publisher. An entrepreneur and a hard worker.”

  I have work. Yes.

  But not a damn thing else. Not enough to hold on to a life I somehow strayed from.

  The thought makes me miserable, and I focus on the coffee again, drinking it down as if it’ll save me. When I set it down, I notice how empty it is, tapping the bottom of it against the table. I’m going to need another. I’ll get it myself though. I push away from the table slightly. “I’m going to grab another. At this rate it’ll be empty before Jacob gets here.”

  “Oh, Jacob,” Sue says his name with a hint of something I can’t describe in her voice. A devilish smile grows on her face and it makes me roll my eyes. Of all the girls, Sue’s the one who gets over one man by getting under another. And she’s given the advice freely to our tight group of friends. I can practically feel her elbow in my ribs.

  “Yes, Jacob,” I mock the way she said it, feeling irritable and like a bitch, but it only makes Sue smile.

  “Well I hope he’s a good distraction for you,” Sue tells me and slides her bag off her lap and onto her shoulder.

  “Work is always a good distraction.” My tone destroys the bit of lightness. “I’m good at burying myself in it.” The girls are quiet as my words sit stale in the air. It’s part of the reason my marriage is tainted. I don’t have to say it out loud and they don’t have to tell me. Everyone already knows it.

  “I read the book you gave me,” Maddie says, changing the subject back to Jacob Scott. “I looked him up online, too,” she adds as a smile spreads across her lips and her cheeks brighten with a blush. She scoots to the back of her seat and holds her cup in both hands, gladly taking the attention off of me. “He’s cute,” she says with a smile. My left brow raises as I watch her pink cheeks turn brighter. Little miss innocent.

  “Is he now?” Sue answers her and the two share a look as Maddie nods.

  “Want me to put in a good word for you?” I ask her and reach into my Kate Spade satchel for my laptop and notebook, setting them up on the table as Sue stands and puts on her jacket. There’s no way Maddie would actually make a move. She’s so sheltered and inexperienced. There’s no way I’d let someone like Jacob near her. I’ll play along though. “You can always stay and wait for him to get here?” I offer jokingly. “Or maybe leave something behind and have to come back for it?”

  She doesn’t answer, merely shakes her head and slides off her seat to join Sue.

  “I wouldn’t want to intrude,” she finally says and then walks over to give me a hug. Even in her heels, I still sit a little higher at the bar-height table as she embraces me.

  I half expect her to say something in my ear, to tell me it’ll be alright or that Evan’s made a mistake. But she doesn’t say a word until she lets me go. “I’m just a call away,” she says with a chipper tone that wouldn’t clue in anyone around us that I’d need to call her because my life is falling apart.

  “Same here, darling,” Sue says and then the two walk off. Sue’s heels click noticeably louder as she opens the door. But the chime sounds just the same as when we first walked in here.

  “Thanks for coming, guys,” I tell them and smile as they leave me here alone.

  But the smile doesn’t reflect anything I truly feel.

  And nothing’s changed.

  Chapter Four

  EVAN

  It was a mistake; I can’t change the past.

  I don’t want this to be, the pain is steadfast.

  I haven’t paid for my sins, how long can I run?

  In time, the truth will be revealed-

  I’ll be dead and it will have won.

  Berkeley Square in London feels the same as it has for years. The crisp air and old trees that tower over the park. The black iron and white stone that speak to the history of this place. The dark, narrow alleys and the nightlife tucked away in the shadows of this city are what make my blood heat and my foot tap anxiously on the floorboard of the car.

  It’s always given me a rush to come here. There are a number of cities I’m fond of, cities that are playgrounds for the rich and where the best parties are had. Los Angeles, San Francisco, New York City of course. But London is one of the best. There’s something to be said about being away from your normal life and getting to unwind in a city you don’t have any obligations to stay in.

  The cabbie clears his throat and his accent greets me as he tries to make small talk. I give him a nod and as many one-word answers as it takes to make it clear he doesn’t need to fill the time with needless conversation. I’m not interested.

  I rub the sleep from my eyes, feeling more and more exhausted as we pass the park, the dark green landscape fading from sight and rows of homes taking the place of the public areas.

  I’ve felt comfortable here for years. It’s a constant go-to for the PR company and I’ve been sent here to look after clients practically every year. But as the sky turns gray and the rain starts to spit on the roof, the welcoming feeling leaves me, and I’m left empty. Brought back to the present and brooding on how much the past has fucked me over.

  The cab takes a left onto Hay Hill and I pass an old townhome where I used to crash. I’ve had so many close calls here. I was too much of a hothead, always looking for a thri
ll and pushing my luck further and further.

  The cabbie comes to a stop before I’m ready. The memories play over and over in the back of my head of all the years I spent wasted. I can still feel the crunch of bone from the last fight I got into not three blocks from here.

  “Here we are,” the cabbie says, turning in his seat, but before he can say anything else, I jam the cash into his hand and grab my bags on my own.

  “Have a good day, sir,” I hear him call out as I shut the door, the patter of rain already soaking the collar on the back of my neck.

  I have to walk with my head down to keep the rain from hitting me in the face. The door opens easily and I drag my luggage in, tossing it to the right side where the coatrack and desk are meant to greet clients. The historical condo is converted into an office space. It’s blocks from the nightlife and blends in with the community. A perfect location for client drop-off.

  The high ceilings and intricate molding make the already expensive building feel that much wealthier. It’s all shades of white and cream, without an actual color in sight, save for the bright neon sticky note on top of a stack of papers sitting on the edge of the welcome desk.

  Sterile, but rich.

  “You were supposed to tell me when you landed.” I hear James’ voice before I see him, his heavy steps echoing in the expansive room.

  “I did,” I tell him flatly, not bothering to take out my phone and check. I’m sure I did and he ignored it. That seems to have been his preference for the last two weeks. The air about him has changed; ever since that night, things have been tense between us. Like we’re in a silent war, each waiting for the other to show weakness.

  I’m not interested in this shit. The only thing I give a damn about is my Kat. And keeping her safe from the crossfire.

  “I didn’t get it,” he says, stopping in front of me in the foyer. He has to tilt his head slightly to look me in the eye since he’s a few inches shorter.