Undeniably Married (Boston’s Irresistible Billionaires Book 4)
Undeniably Married: Chapter 14

“Ifeel like we’re breaking in and stealing.” Serena is all smiles as we climb the stairs to the apartment I shared with Brody.

I start to sing the first few lines of “The Old Apartment” by Barenaked Ladies, making everyone giggle. “I have the key, he knows I’m coming, and it’s my stuff we’re getting.”

“Don’t ruin this for me with your level-headed approach, Sorel.”

“We should totally go all gangbusters on his stuff,” Wren suggests. “My mom did that when she discovered her fiancé was cheating on her.”

I smirk at her. “When I saw his press conferences, that was the first thought that went through my head. How I wished I had pulled a Carrie Underwood on him.”

“I think marrying Mason was sort of that move,” Tinsley offers smugly. “That was way better than trashing his stuff. It was the chef’s kiss after the mic drop at the wedding.”

“I still feel weird that I did that in the first place. None of it was really me.”

“Or maybe it was you. Did you ever consider that?” Serena cocks an eyebrow at me.

“Have you been talking to my husband?” I quip only to freeze, and everyone else freezes along with me. My hand claps over my mouth, and I stare at my sister with wide, unblinking eyes.

“Did you just…”

I nod at Tinsley. “I think I did.”

Wren snorts out a laugh. “Sorel and Mason, sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G. First comes marriage—oh wait, that’s not how that goes.”

“Shut up.” I laugh, smacking her arm. “No more of that. It was a slipup. He’s been calling me his wife. I’m sure that’s the only reason I said it. Now let’s get my stuff and get the hell out of here.”

I can feel the women behind me exchanging looks, but I push on and continue up the steps to the landing and then over to the apartment. Using my key, I unlock the door and cautiously open it. Everything looks the same as it did when I left here two days ago. Well, minus the pile of dishes in the sink and the pizza box half-open on the counter.

I glance around, my ears searching, but I don’t hear anything. Thank God. He left like he said he might. I sag in relief, not realizing how tense I was.

Blowing out a breath, I shut the door behind us. “I have two suitcases that are mine in the hall closet. Let’s grab those, and anything you think might be mine, toss it in. None of the furniture is mine. Only my clothes, books, CDs, and some trinkets.”

We set to work, but when I enter the bedroom, I scream at the top of my lungs when I find Brody silently sitting on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. I fall back against the door, my hand over my racing heart, and everyone comes flying in.

Brody slowly raises his head, and I note the large purple welt around his eye. My dad got a good hit in.

Serena grabs my forearm, and I know she’s looking at me to see what I want to do, but I can’t take my eyes off him. He looks like shit. I should feel relief in that, but I’m not sure I do. This is all about him feeling sorry for himself. It has nothing to do with me at all.

“Hey, Brody,” Wren calls out to him. “I hope you get C. diff and neurosyphilis.”

Serena snorts out a laugh. “Actually, I hope his dick shrivels up and falls off. That’s more poetic justice, in my opinion.”

“Sorel?” Tinsley questions.

“I’m fine,” I tell them. “Would you mind giving us a few minutes?”

“You’re sure?” Serena checks.

“Positive.”

They leave the bedroom, and I hear the front door open and close a minute later. Brody’s gaze snags on my left hand hanging by my side, and his expression immediately hardens.

“Are they real?”

I nod, and he blows out a breathy chuckle, utterly incredulous. “He bought you real diamonds for a fake marriage. Fucking asshole. He did that to spite me.”

See what I mean? All about him.

It’s funny, looking at him now, I’m not sure what I ever saw in him to begin with. It’s amazing how you can finally see someone’s true colors after they hurt you but are blind or make excuses for them until that happens.

“You didn’t enter into his thoughts at all. Mason did what he did for me because he’s my friend and not to spite you. That’s why I did it.” I fold my arms and lean farther against the wall. “How long have you and Eloise been a thing?”

He practically snarls at that question. “We were never a thing.”

I hold up a consolatory hand. “My apologies. How long have the two of you been fucking?”

He drags a hand across his face and winces ever so slightly as he says, “On and off for about three or so years.”

It’s a slapshot to the chest. I knew it. I mean, I didn’t know the full length of time, but I figured it was the entire time he and I were together. But to hear it confirmed isn’t pleasant. Eloise and I were as close as anyone. Her callousness is gut-wrenching.

I clear my throat and the sting of that along with it. “Were there others?”

“Sorel—”

“Answer me. The truth.”

He swallows thickly. “One or two here or there, but nothing more than one time each.”

Wow. It’s a good thing I got tested at my annual a week before the wedding and haven’t slept with him since. Who knows what he could have given me?

“Got it. Thanks for clarifying that for me. I officially hate you more than I already did, and now any guilt I felt over my master class fuck you is gone.”

“Do you know how difficult this is for me?” he questions, and I want to laugh at his statement’s pure selfishness and irony but refrain. “You discover I’ve been screwing around, and instead of coming to me and hearing the truth about it, you splatter it in front of all our family and friends and then not only run out on our wedding but off to Vegas with fucking Mason Reyes, of all people, and marry him. What am I supposed to do with that, Sorel?”

“How do you think me coming to you and learning ‘the truth,’” I put air quotes around that, “as you put it, would have changed anything?”

“Because it was just sex!” he yells, throwing his hands up in frustration as if I’m missing the key issue here and being overly dramatic and emotional about the situation. “Just sex and nothing more. Meaningless.”

“Meaningless to you.” I point at him and refold my arms. “You having sex with my friend the entire time we were together and then one or two others isn’t meaningless to me. Hell, if it only happened once, we’d still have this outcome. Did that ever occur to you? I mean, it must have since you both went to great lengths to hide it, but how you think explaining that you were simply fucking her and not in love with her changes anything is beyond me. I’d almost feel better if you were in love with her. At least then your infidelity would have a purpose I could wrap my head around. You telling me it was meaningless sex to you hurts more because that means you didn’t care enough about me to stop it.”

He growls under his breath and stands, his arms shooting out wide. “How much are you going to punish me over this? I fucked up. I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you. That’s what all the guys on my team do with their wives, and they forgive them.”

Ah. That’s why he doesn’t get my reaction. “You mean I should ask you to buy me a big diamond or something to make up for it?” I squint at him. “Do you even know me at all?”

“You should at least think about trying to forgive me. I forgive you, and what you did is so much worse.”

“Worse than screwing around on me with my friend and random strangers?” I stare, disbelieving. Is he high? How could anyone think that?

“Right,” he scoffs derisively. “And you didn’t fuck Reyes. Someone you know I hate.”

“You and I weren’t together when that happened. In fact, I had every right to fuck him since he’s now my husband.”

It’s a low blow, and it hits him hard.

“You ruined my life,” he barks, his hands going to the top of his head, his expression distraught. “You took everything from me. I had a shot with a network in New York, and now they tell me they’re no longer interested. That was my dream job. The future I had mapped out for us. Now I have no choice but to take a low-level coaching position with my former team.”

“Um, boo-hoo for you? I think you’re missing the point here, Tiger. I didn’t ruin anything for you. You dicking around on me and still going to marry me is what ruined it. You mouthing off to the press and lying about your phone being hacked and it all being a misunderstanding is what ruined it. You thought I’d never find out because you’re an arrogant, spoiled son of a bitch. But I did, and with that, I showed the world who you are. That’s what you don’t like.”

He shakes his head. “Jesus, Sorel. Do you not get it? I love you. I love you so much. I’m in agony here. I never wanted this for us. I don’t care about Eloise. I’ll never see her again. Not ever. And I’ll never touch another woman again either if you give me another chance. I don’t even care that you married Reyes. That’s bullshit revenge, and I know it. The world knows it too. What you and I have is real.”

At the mention of Mason, his rule about no Brody pops into my head. Oddly, I feel like I’m betraying him, but I’m not. There is no Brody to me anymore. This is simply the business of ending something.

“No. What you and I had was not real.” I push away from the wall and stand before him, telling him the truth we both need to hear. “I’m not sure it ever was. How could it have been when you were doing that with my friend and keeping it from me? It’s more than the sex. That’s what I don’t think you realize. Real relationships are built on honesty, trust, and communication. We didn’t have any of those things. I just didn’t know it until it was almost too late.”

“That’s not how it was for me. I was… I don’t know.” His hands fall heavily to his sides. “I was scared by what we had. It came on so fast and so strong. I didn’t know how to stop it, nor did I want to. I wanted you like I’d never wanted anyone else, but I panicked. You were my first serious relationship, and the thought of forever with one woman seemed daunting. It doesn’t anymore, though. Not even close now that I know what it feels like to lose you. I’m so sorry. I regret what I did and how I treated you. You deserved better than that, but you got your revenge. We’re even now.”

Are we though? I’m not so sold on that. Regardless, he’s not someone I want to go back to.

He breathes out a heavy breath when I don’t say anything in response. “I’m moving back to New York. The Thunder offered me a defensive secondary coaching position.”

I nod. “I gathered that.”

“I want you to come with me. We can start over. I’ll be a better guy for you.”

“No, thanks.”

He grits his teeth and charges toward me. His hands meet my shoulders, but his touch feels like acid on my skin, and I shirk it. “Just like that, you quit? That’s not who you are.”

“Do you know who I am?” I repeat because the first time it was rhetorical, but suddenly, I’m realizing I don’t think he does. Mason has said stuff. Serena has said stuff. And I’ve blown them off because that’s easier and safer and there’s less fear involved with it. But did Brody ever know me? Did he ever see me? Or did I become someone he wanted me to be?

“I thought I did. I thought you were the woman of my dreams. Sweet and kind and patient and endlessly giving. You laughed at my corny jokes and didn’t care whether I was a football player, a broadcaster, or anything else. None of that mattered to you.”

“It still doesn’t. But while I was endlessly giving of myself to you, you weren’t endlessly giving of yourself in return. It was all about you, Brody, and I let it happen for reasons I can’t even figure out now.”

“That’s not fair. You don’t make it easy. Eloise was easy. She told me her thoughts. I didn’t have to try to figure them out or piece together an unsolvable puzzle. What I saw with her is what I got. With you, it wasn’t that way. You don’t trust anyone enough to fully let go with them. Do you know how frustrating that is?”

I swallow thickly, emotion thickening my throat and burning my eyes as I fight it back. He’s not wrong on that. Considering I was betrayed by my best friend in high school and then again by him and Eloise, can you blame me?

“That’s not an excuse. Why should I have trusted you with my thoughts and feelings when you were betraying me the entire time?”

His expression crumbles. “I know I blew it. I know I did. Just…” He pauses. Pants out a breath. “Think about my offer. Please. Just please think about it, Sorel. Don’t automatically dismiss it. I love you, and I want you to come back to New York with me.” His eyes search mine, and he takes a step back. “I’ll go so you can get your stuff, but you should know, I’m offering you a future. The one we both talked about and wanted. One with just us. I’ll only focus on you and where we want our lives to go.”

I don’t know what to say that I haven’t already, so I stay silent, a bit thunderstruck by it all.

He kisses the corner of my lips. “Think about it.” Then he leaves and walks out of the apartment with a hard click of the door. I’ve heard of couples reconciling after infidelity. I’ve heard about that sort of forgiveness. I’m just not sure I have it in me. How could I ever trust him? Do I even want to try?

I have no compelling voice in my gut telling me to run after him or pull a Notebook moment where I yell and kiss him, and he lifts me into his arms despite the fact that I’m married to someone else. Though I think she was only engaged to the other dude and not married.

Whatever. You get my meaning here.

There are no letters written every day since I left him, and no house he constructed just for me. There are only his words, and his words don’t hold a lot of merit. He’s a cheater. A liar. A user.

I go for the suitcases and straight into my closet. I text Serena, and a few minutes later, I hear the door open and the ladies stay in the other room. They give me space. My sister knows me well.

Packing up my things is bittersweet. I thought by thirty-five I would have it all figured out. I thought I’d have the perfect guy and the perfect job and the perfect life and maybe be pregnant with a kid or two. Nothing is going as I planned, and I’m not sure how to pivot.

Ugh. Now I feel like Ross with the couch from Friends.

I take my time and go through the place. If he’s moving back to New York, then this is likely my last chance to get everything that’s mine. Thankfully, my ladies do their job. We get my stuff together, and in under an hour, everything is packed up into Tinsley’s car.

“So, here’s the real question,” my sister asks. “Are we going to Mason’s or are we calling in the squad and going out?”

“Squad!” Tinsley and Wren exclaim at the same time, and Serena looks at me.

Fuck it. “I have no argument. Let’s do it.”

But, because I just spouted all kinds of stuff to Brody about honesty and communication, I text Mason to let him know. Not that we’re together. Not even close. But still, he’s been so amazing, I don’t want to take advantage of that.

Me: The girls want to go out for dinner and drinks.

He responds almost immediately.

Mason: Sounds fun. Enjoy. Just be safe and mindful of the press. What about Brody?

Me: I’ll tell you about it tomorrow.

Mason: I don’t like the way that sounds. And if you’re going out drinking, can I ask Tins to bring her car home? I’ll pay for a car service for you.

I reread his text. “Mason wants us to bring the car home and he’ll supply a car service tonight, so we don’t drive.”

All chatter falls quiet, and I catch Tinsley’s wry smile from the rearview mirror.

“That’s sweet of him,” she says.

“Yes,” Wren agrees, also smiling in a way I’m ignoring.

Serena turns around to face me from the front seat. “You cool with that?”

I shrug. “I was actually thinking of telling him we’re badass bitches who earn our own money and can afford our own car service.”

She grins coyly. “That’s sort of what I was thinking.”

I get a round of cheers for that and text it back to Mason.

Mason: Stop being so sexy. I’m not allowed to make moves on my hot, badass wife. I just want to make sure you’re safe. That’s all I care about. Have fun. But know that I won’t always be so easy with you. I liked punishing you when you deserved it, and I already know you spoke to Brody.

Me: No sexy sex. Remember?

Mason: I’ll never be able to forget or not want your sexy sex. It makes me hard just thinking about it. But I’ll be a good boy. Just for you. Just for now.

Shit.

I’m not sure there is any other word to say or think after that.

“Stella’s!” Serena cries out. “Let’s go change first. I want to wear something cute and moving clothes are not cute. She has the back room waiting for us.” Our older sister Stella owns a chain of top-tier restaurants in Boston with her wife, Delphine. Stella’s is her landmark one, though. “And I’ve got all the ladies coming!”

Oh, boy. I can only imagine what this night will turn into.