I turn on my side and curl into myself, trying to sift through the endless stream of doubt running laps inside my head. Maybe he doesn’t know. Maybe I still have a chance to make this right. Maybe now that I’ve gotten Ransom out of my system, we can move on for good. I can’t lose him. I can’t give up on what we have, regardless of what I feel for someone else.
I’m so preoccupied with my own selfishness and deceit that I don’t even notice the pile dumped beside the door. And once I do, I know that worrying is futile. Agonizing over the inevitable is wasted. It’s over. It’s all over.
My husband is perfect in every way. Kind, generous, and considerate. So considerate, that he brought in my towel and the paperback book that I had forgotten at the lagoon. The towel and the paperback that I don’t remember seeing when I left.
Chapter Twenty-seven
I make up an excuse to leave the room, telling Tucker that I need to discuss a new press release for Oasis with Justice, and I throw on a cotton dress and slip into flat sandals. I don’t even bother drying my hair or doing my makeup. I just comb out the snags and smack on some mascara and lip gloss and race out of our shared space, far away from the truth that we now both know.
When I make it to Justice’s guesthouse, he’s already in the doorway, his arms crossed in front of his chest and his face screwed in a scowl.
“You just can’t leave well enough alone,” he says, closing the door behind us. We’re alone, thank God. And while I’m sure there are no secrets between him and Ally, I couldn’t stand for her to see me like this.
“Justice . . . Justice, I think I made a big mistake.”
“You think! You didn’t make a mistake, Heidi. You fucked up. I told you to stay away from him; I told you it was a mistake to bring him into your marriage, but you took it a step further, didn’t you?”
I frown. Wait a minute . . . why is he so pissed? And what could he know about my fuck ups? He wasn’t even present for last night’s debauchery. Has Ransom been confiding in Justice?
Seeing the confusion flash across my face, Justice rolls his eyes and says, “I have surveillance cameras everywhere. It’s in the contracts. You think I would have a business this provocative and not have camera evidence to cover my ass? Come on, Heidi. You should know that. You’re slipping.”
I take the insult like a slap in the face. He’s right. I’ve been less than stellar when it comes to my role as a professional.
“You were spying on us? You . . . you saw us?”
“Hell no. At least not the shit you were doing in my pool. But I saw enough. Dammit. You’ve really fucked it up this time, haven’t you? I tried to give you the benefit of the doubt when I saw you go to his room. But this . . . this is just too obvious.”
I shake my head, refusing to believe what I can plainly see. Tucker knows it. Justice knows it. And soon, everyone else will know it too. I’m a cheater. I’ve cheated on my husband. And even though he helped open the door to it, it was still me who chose to keep this up with Ransom. I knew I wouldn’t be able to resist him forever. I knew sooner or later, our eggshell house would crack and shatter under our feet. And now . . . now it has.
“He knows,” I manage to whisper to Justice, who just stares at me in disappointment. Tucker isn’t the only person I’ve let down. Justice went out on a limb for me. He welcomed us into his home, counseled us, gave us an outlet to explore ourselves, and I still managed to do the one thing he requested I not do.
“I know he does. I saw him. He came to me . . . wanting to try again. Willing to do whatever it takes to make you happy because he loves you.”
I don’t even bother to dash away the tears in my eyes. The secret’s out. I’m a screwup. No need to pretend now. “What do I do, Justice? What am I going to do now? I can’t lose Tucker. He’s my whole life and I love him. But Ransom . . . oh my God. What if he thinks we’re together? What if he tells someone? Shit! What if he confronts Tuck?”
Justice takes a deep breath through his nose and lets it out slowly, a move he uses to calm himself. Ally’s been insisting on him joining the morning yoga classes. “Look. Go back to your room. Spend the rest of the day with your husband. Order up food, watch TV. Let this situation simmer for now. Then tomorrow night, we’re going back down to the playground—at Tucker’s request. I’d advise against it, but then it’d raise too many questions—questions you don’t want me to answer honestly. But after that, you’re going to break things off with Ransom—personally and professionally. Then you’re going to send him back to New York. Alone. We’ll figure out the rest once he’s gone.”
I nod, fully accepting his advice. I need to drop Ransom for good. I need to cut him loose. I’ll never give my marriage a fair try with him here.
In a move that surprises us both, I go to wrap my arms around Justice in a warm embrace. He stiffens for at least five seconds before he exhales and begrudgingly hugs me back.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, meaning it. To him, to Tucker, hell, even to Ransom.
“I know. And you’re going to be sorry for a very long time. But not forever. Remember, I’ve fixed worse.”
I leave his home and do exactly what he says. I don’t pass Go. I don’t collect $200. I go straight to my husband. When I reach the door that says Reflection, I find that he isn’t there. Normally it wouldn’t surprise me—it’s still early and the compound is huge—but every fear I’ve ever harbored comes bubbling to the surface. What if he’s talking to Ransom right now? What if they’re fighting? Or what if Tucker decided to do exactly what I have been doing to him? What if he’s screwing another woman right now?
I make a mad dash for the spa, sweeping the area for any signs of my husband. The lower private level doesn’t open until after noon, so I don’t have to worry about him going for a romp in there, thank God. I check the instruction room, the theater, even the library that I never even knew existed. As I leave, I hear the sounds of piano close by, originating from an area I’ve never seen before. It’s open like a ballroom but much smaller. And it’s unfurnished, save for a single baby grand piano in the middle of the room, being played by none other than Ransom Reed.
He’s freshly showered, dressed in his signature frayed jeans and white V neck tee. He almost looks like the Ransom I’d seen on TV. The Ransom I was secretly infatuated with. And now that I know him, in every way that a woman can know a man, I feel more intimidated by him than I ever have before.
He looks at me through hazy eyes and smiles. There’s something in that smile that alarms me, something familiar that I just can’t put my finger on. It’s enough to draw me closer to try to figure it out.
I don’t say anything at first. Just sit beside him and listen to him play. I know the music, but I can’t remember the name. It’s not until he starts to sing that I understand—that I get it. The song. Him. Us. Why we were destined to be, yet doomed to coexist.
People like me and Ransom Reed, and even Justice, were always meant to be a little wrong. Without us, those perpetually good, righteous souls would have no one to save. They would have no purpose. Ally would have never met Justice and showed him what it was like to be loved and accepted, despite his background. Tucker would have never found me, and taught me how to live again, and accept love. And Ransom . . . see, that’s the problem. He thinks I’m his person. He thinks I’m the one who’s supposed to fix him. When we both know that two wrongs don’t make a right.
He flows into the chorus of “A Song For You” by Donny Hathaway, his voice wrapping around the melody like a warm, electric blanket. He’s always had a rich timbre to his voice, as if he could have been a soul singer in a past life. Considering his family was heavily religious and he grew up in the church, I’d imagine he spent many a Sunday singing hymns and gospel songs. And even though he’s excommunicated himself from the church and his family, he can’t deny that his upbringing helped shape the musician that he is today.