The Choice (Arranged Book 3)

by Stella Gray

  But now?

  Now I didn’t know who or what to believe. Not when she had been caught in Gavin’s arms again, just before disappearing. They obviously had a relationship.

  And it was because of me. I was the one who’d enabled them to get together. By arranging for Tori to pass information along to Gavin. I never should have used him as an intermediator. Never should have depended on the relationship between Gavin and Tori to get back at my father.

  I was furious at Bruce for keeping this crucial and damning information from me. Furious at my father for doing everything he could to meddle in my personal life and chase my wife away. And Anja—she’d returned at the worst possible time, after years of keeping my son away from me. I was glad to have Max in my life, but Anja had wrecked my marriage. I was also livid over the way Gavin and Tori had deceived me. Infuriated by their lies, by Tori’s cheating.

  But mostly, I was furious at myself.

  I had all but pushed Tori straight into Gavin’s arms. It was my fault I hadn’t been able to hold onto the best thing in my life.

  I should have realized it was too good to be true from the beginning.

  I never should have allowed myself to fall in love with Tori. Never should have allowed myself to be open and vulnerable with someone; should have learned my lesson the first time, with Anja. When you loved someone, they always left you. Giving someone your heart meant that they had the power to break it. And I was fucking broken.

  From now on, though, I was done with that.

  For good this time.

  Fuck love, I thought to myself. And fuck Tori.

  Tori

  Chapter 12

  I hated being back at my father’s house. It was like being a kid again, staying in my old room, all of my clothes and toiletries from Stefan’s house still packed up in suitcases that I didn’t even want to open. The whole place felt too small for me—Springfield felt too small for me—like I had outgrown my old life and now I was being forced back in.

  But I had been the one to come here. And I had no other choice.

  I didn’t know where else to go. I didn’t know what else to do.

  After speaking with Gavin on Monday, I’d hoped that my gut instincts about Anja and Stefan were wrong. That despite the sudden arrival of my husband’s old flame and new child, he’d still want to be with me. That no matter the obstacles in our path, we’d find a way to work it out. Together.

  Every single one of those hopes had been crushed that night, though. After listening to Stefan talk about his perfect day with Anja and Max and how excited he was to step up and be a father to his kid, and still haunted by the paparazzi photos of the three of them as one big, happy family, I’d known immediately what I needed to do.

  I couldn’t stay with Stefan. I couldn’t stand in the way of him having the family he wanted and I couldn’t wait for him to realize that and break my heart into a million pieces. It was clear to me that my father-in-law had somehow brought Anja and Max back to Stefan in an effort to replace me.

  There was nothing I could do about it.

  So I’d pretended that everything was fine. On Tuesday I’d had Bruce drop me off at my father-in-law’s for the family dinner I’d agreed to, and I’d even gone inside so that Bruce wouldn’t realize anything was amiss—and then I had walked through the lobby and snuck out the back entrance before anyone could see me, got an Uber, and headed back to Stefan’s condo.

  It hadn’t taken long to pack everything, even though I’d done it through my tears. Knowing it was the right thing to do didn’t make it any easier. Finally, I’d called another Uber and had them take me and my things all the way to Springfield, and I hadn’t looked back.

  Leaving UChicago was almost as upsetting as leaving my marriage. Yet I knew there was no point in continuing to attend my classes. Stefan wasn’t going to keep paying my tuition once he divorced me, of that I was certain, and I knew my father sure as hell wouldn’t step in to help me either. We’d been over the school thing before. He’d even denied me a temporary loan.

  The only thing worse than leaving Stefan was the thought of what my father would say when I showed up on his doorstep.

  Thankfully, when I knocked on the door, it was Michelle who’d greeted me. She’d taken one look at me, standing there in the cold rain, and said, “Well, whatever is the matter, darlin’?”

  When I started crying again, she’d wrapped an arm around me and said no more.

  My father wasn’t even home, it turned out; he was in DC for a work trip. I was grateful for that at least. We hadn’t spoken since the huge fight about KZM at his office, when I’d told him he wasn’t my father anymore. And while I knew he wouldn’t turn me out on the street in my time of need, I also knew he’d be pissed that I’d left my marriage. He’d demand to know what had happened. Would want to fix it. I couldn’t bear the thought of explaining Anja and Max to my father, telling him why the deal he’d made with Konstantin Zoric was ending.

  In fact, I still wasn’t sure I wanted to speak to my father ever again.

  I’d had dinner with Michelle the night I arrived, and I’d tried not to stare at her across the table, but I couldn’t help searching her face whenever she was distracted, looking for hints that she knew the truth behind my father’s connection with KZM and their shady underground businesses. But all I saw was a woman who’d done her best to raise me, who loved me like her own. A trophy wife who’d tried to prepare me for a life of ease and relative luxury, just like hers.

  I didn’t want to believe she knew the truth behind what my father did. Behind the money he raised to run his campaigns.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” she’d asked, over a meal of all my favorite comfort foods: buttery mashed potatoes, fried chicken, glazed carrots. I hadn’t been able to eat a bite.

  “I can’t,” I’d managed, right before excusing myself to go cry in the bathroom again.

  Michelle had agreed when I requested that she and the house staff not answer any calls from Stefan. A clean break seemed like the best way to go. I hadn’t even brought my phone with me when I left, tucking it in a bottom drawer of the desk in the guest room after arranging for a car. Stefan would have just tried to track me with it anyway. Though I was regretting it now that I was so isolated. I’d have to get a new phone soon, if only to text Grace and call myself Ubers when necessary.

  My stepmother hadn’t asked too many questions just yet, but I knew that she wouldn’t remain silent forever. And though I was fairly certain she hadn’t told my father I was home, he’d be back soon enough. At some point I’d have to admit why I was back and what I planned to do.

  Just the thought of my husband made my heart ache.

  Forcing myself out of bed on Wednesday, I resolved to hit the pause button on my grief and figure out my next steps. Even if those steps were more grieving. I just couldn’t sit around waiting for someone else to figure out my life for me. Looking back, that was exactly what had gotten me into this mess in the first place. It was time to take action. Make some choices.

  My first choice was a hot shower, my second was jeans and a sweater, and my third was to go find coffee. Giving myself plenty of credit for getting so far before noon, despite feeling like my world had shattered, I headed downstairs. The kitchen was empty, which was a relief.

  I didn’t want any company.

  On the counter sat a bright pink box stamped with the name of my favorite bakery. Michelle knew well my weakness for pastries. It was sweet of her to try and care for me, and she was clearly also giving me space and not pushing me right now, which I appreciated. I grabbed a flaky croissant, but gave up once I’d had a few bites. Everything tasted like ash in my mouth.

  After reheating what was left in the coffee pot from that morning and adding a liberal amount of vanilla creamer, I curled up in the window seat that looked out into the backyard and stared out at the rose garden that was rapidly dying in the face of the approaching winter.

  A surge of guilt ran t
hrough me for running away like this, but I knew that in the end, Stefan would understand. He’d see that I had left out of love for him—that I wanted him to be happy. Maybe I should have left him a note, but I knew that if I’d told him where I was going, he would have come to Springfield immediately to talk me out of it. He would have probably done everything in his power to convince me that he still loved me and I would have believed him.

  Because I would have wanted to believe it.

  And I knew that Stefan would have wanted to believe it too.

  I also knew that it would have just prolonged the inevitable. That eventually, Stefan would realize that he belonged with Anja—and his son. Their son. It was only right.

  As I sipped my warmed-over coffee, I tried to re-envision my future. Maybe, if I was divorced and single again, and officially over eighteen, I could apply for federal financial aid. Get approved for a loan to cover my tuition and the cost of student housing. My girlfriends lived in the dorms, ate in the student cafeteria, worked part-time jobs. I could do that, too. I might have to take the rest of the school year off and reapply for admission again next fall, but I’d manage. It would be hard—and I would be alone—but I would survive. I’d be on a path.

  The main house phone rang, startling me from my thoughts. I cringed, wondering if it was Stefan again. I’d seen his number on the caller ID multiple times since I’d disappeared last night, but nobody had picked up his calls, per my request. But this time it wasn’t Stefan’s name on the digital screen—it was Zoric, Mara. My sister-in-law Emzee.

  Part of me knew it would be best to ignore the call like I had Stefan’s, but I couldn’t resist. I wanted to talk to Emzee. I needed her. She was the closest thing to a sister I’d ever had. And I knew I could trust her to keep my location a secret.

  “Hi, Emzee,” I said, hearing the guilt in my own voice as I answered.

  “Tori?” My sister-in-law sounded frantic. “You’re in Springfield? Are you okay? What happened?”

  “I’m fine,” I told her, my eyes already tearing up at the concern in her voice. “I’ve been at my dad’s since last night. I’m really okay.”

  “Well, but when are you coming home?” she asked. “Why did you leave?”

  I took a steadying breath and walked back to the window seat, sinking into it with a sigh. “I’m not going back. And I need you to promise me you won’t tell Stefan we talked.”

  “Wait, what?” Emzee sputtered. “Why? He’s freaking out.”

  “This is the best thing for everyone,” I told her. “You have to believe me. I just—”

  “Not good enough,” she said, cutting me off. “You and my brother are a match made in heaven. I’ve never seen him this happy before. He thinks you hung the moon! And you guys are crazy about each other, I’ve witnessed it with my own eyes. So you better start talking. Now.”

  Emzee was talking a mile a minute. It took me a second to process everything she’d said before I was able to respond.

  “Listen,” I told her gently. “Remember how you told me Stefan was a different person when he was younger—back in high school—and then suddenly everything changed?”

  “Yeah…” Emzee said cautiously.

  “Well, the reason he was so different was because he was in love with a woman named Anja. But then Anja disappeared and never came back,” I informed her. I heard Emzee’s shocked intake of breath. “And three days ago…she showed up on your father’s doorstep.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me right now?” she hissed.

  I told Emzee the rest of the story, though I left out Anja’s involvement in the sex trafficking ring. All I told her was that Anja had been an up-and-coming KZM model who’d disappeared without a trace just days after Stefan had proposed, and that he’d spent the last eight years searching the ends of the earth for her.

  “There’s more,” I said, taking a breath. “She—she and Stefan. They have a kid.”

  “What?!”

  “He didn’t know Anja was pregnant when she disappeared,” I told her. “So it was a huge surprise when she came back with this seven-year-old, but Max—that’s the kid’s name—is really smart, and really sweet, and Stefan’s basically already in love with him. I know he wants to do the right thing and be a father to him.”

  “Okay,” Emzee said slowly. “I get that this is all kinds of crazy. But I still don’t understand why you’re hiding out at your dad’s house. I thought you loved Stefan. Don’t you want to work things out? He was only seventeen when all this went down. How can you hold it against him now?”

  “He doesn’t want me!” I said, feeling the pain rise up sharp and swift again, like a knife in my chest. “He wants Anja. He’s always wanted her.”

  “That can’t be true,” Emzee said. “That was a million years ago. Things have changed. He’s changed.”

  “They have a child together,” I said, closing my eyes and pressing my forehead against the cool glass of the window. “I’m not going to stand in the way of that. They’re a family now.”

  “That’s not fair,” Emzee snapped.

  “It will be easier for everyone if I leave now,” I insisted, my voice hitching as my tears started to fall. “Before he has to ask me to go.”

  “But Tori,” she said, starting to cry along with me, “You can’t make this decision for him. And you’re wrong. You haven’t seen Stefan—he’s frantic with worry. He loves you. He wants you back, with him.”

  I wanted to believe her. I wanted to imagine that he would choose me if it came down to it. But not one thing about this situation pointed to a happy ending where Stefan and I would ride off into the sunset together. This might have been the cowardly way to go, but it was also the safer way. The only way I was getting out of this with my heart intact.

  “I need to do this my way,” I told Emzee, hoping she would understand.

  “No. You need to talk to him,” she said. “If you just listened to what he has to say, he’d tell you that he’s in love with you. That he wants you. Not anybody else.”

  “Just let it go,” I begged. “Let this be goodbye.”

  “Damn it.” Emzee was sniffling, trying to get it together. “Fine. Do it your way. But don’t leave my brother hanging. You at least have to tell him where you are and why you left,” she said. “You owe him that. And don’t think for a second that you’re breaking up with me, too.”

  “We’ll still be friends,” I said, meaning it. “This doesn’t change anything between us.”

  Still, I wished I hadn’t answered the phone. I should have known my headstrong, feisty sister-in-law wouldn’t let me off so easily. But I also knew that she was right. It wasn’t fair to walk out on Stefan, and our marriage, without a word. He deserved at least a call from me.

  I just wasn’t read to do it. Not yet.

  “So will you call him?” Emzee pushed. “Please?”

  “Give me a few days,” I said. “I need some time to get myself together and think. I’m sure Stefan does too. He needs to figure things out with Anja and Max. Okay?”

  “Okay,” she finally said. “A couple days. But that’s it. If you don’t talk to him by the weekend, I will. I’ll tell him everything. Believe me, though, he’d rather hear it from you.”

  “I know,” I whispered. “I’m sorry.”

  “I don’t need you to be sorry,” Emzee said. “I need you to be honest.”

  We said our ‘I love you’s and hung up, but unlike our usual calls, I walked away feeling even more upset.

  I had a ticking clock now, but I didn’t know if it would give me enough time to learn how to be strong.

  Stefan

  Chapter 13

  By Friday morning I had come to accept what Bruce had tried to tell me: that wherever Tori was, she was safe—but that she didn’t want to be found. Not by me and apparently not by anyone else, either. Taking into account that the last time Tori’s friend Audrey had seen Tori she’d been in Gavin’s arms, and the fact that Gavin wasn’t answering or r
eturning any of my calls, it seemed almost certain that my wife had moved in with her conniving, back-stabbing little study buddy. It didn’t mean I accepted her leaving me, though.

  I had to try to get her back. Take a final stand. I had no idea how to do that, but I’d find a way. There was nothing I wouldn’t do for Tori. She had to know that.

  In the meantime, I had to take the situation day by day. The Tori I knew had integrity above all else, so I convinced myself she’d reach out when she was ready, come clean about her betrayal, give me a chance to talk to her…but until then, I was losing my mind.

  Focusing at work all week had been an exercise in futility. Most of my days had been spent pacing the halls of the KZM offices, staring blankly at the paperwork piling up on my desk, or canceling the meetings and lunches on my calendar. My father was livid. I didn’t give a damn. I knew I needed to do my job, knew I was moping, but it was impossible to force myself to push paper when I was caught between my missing wife and my father’s criminal empire.

  Regardless of the turmoil in my personal life, I needed to get my shit together. Get back to figuring out how to bring KZM down. I couldn’t count on my Gavin Chase connection anymore. It still infuriated me that he was too cowardly to pick up his phone when I called, didn’t even have the decency to text me and let me know Tori was safe. I had thought we’d reached an understanding—a place of mutual respect and cooperation, if not friendliness. But now he was ghosting me, when he had to know that all I wanted was to talk to Tori one last time.

  Even showering was like a waking nightmare now. Standing under the scalding water, all I could think about was the first time I’d watched my wife come, while fingering herself in a hotel shower during our honeymoon in Vienna. Her head tilted back, her mouth open as she gasped and moaned. Or the time I’d eaten her out right here, sucking on her sweet clit while my hand fucked her to an explosive orgasm, drops of water rolling down her full, perfect breasts. The images were too vivid, impossible to ignore, my arousal almost physically painful. I handled it quickly, joylessly, the memory of her body in my hands torturing me the whole time.