Chapter 72

MAY.

I’ve never been given a more stunning wake-up call. Ethan lets me shower and luxury clothing are set out on the bed by the time I return. I stare at the dress and stilettos, and I dive for Ethan’s closet instead, pulling out one of his shirts. It’s just us in here, and the workers, but they’re not home right now. There’s no need for the excessive…everything.

A few minutes later, I regret my choice when I head down the steps and find that we have a visitor. Two actually. Ashley is one of them, curled up on the sofa like she belongs in it. I’ll admit that she does look like she fits right in a place like this. With her blonde hair styled elegantly, and eyes that make her look like a doll, she’s the kind of beauty that men would have challenged themselves to duels for, had she been born in time where duels determined marriages.

She’d fit right beside a king too. Or the president. Or Ethan.

I suddenly feel inferior as I make my way over to the couch. My hair is obedient, but it’s not as healthy and glossy as Ashley’s. She has such beautiful, long legs, and I would know because I’m admiring them, and well, they are practically on display in that leather mini skirt she’s wearing.

I’m only glad Ethan’s too busy staring at me in his shirt to notice how stunning the woman sitting across him looks today.

My gaze shifts and my brows furrow at the sight of Ashley’s mother. She smiles at me warmly, standing to her feet as I approach. I don’t know but she gives me the creeps, acting all nice and clingy, like I’m a daughter of hers with whom she just reunited.

I settle on the couch beside Ethan, and his hand lands on my thigh and stays, his thumb caressing my skin.

Ethan's voice drops low as he speaks to me. "If you feel uncomfortable, at any point in this conversation, tell me and we'll reschedule for another time."

"I'm fine," I reassure him.

Ashley's mother suddenly walks forward, leaning forward to take my hand, and she whispers, "You look so much like her."

I yank my hand back, weirded out by everything. "Like who?"

Ashley scoffs. "Stop the theatrics, Mother, or I might just die of cringe." Her dark eyes drift to me and they are empty as she says, "We hate to break this to you, darling, but you were adopted. Well, since your biological mother and father are dead too, I take that makes you an orphan. Twice. Damn."

"Ashley!" Ethan yells, his fingers tightening around mine as I stiffen.

She glared at him, straightening in her chair. "What? You're all so dramatic, it makes me want to puke. I'd rather be at work than here, watching all of this nonsense--"

"Ashley," her mother chides, narrowing her a stern look that, bless the heavens, is enough to keep her mouth closed before I can decide she'd look better without her front teeth.

"Maisie," Ashley's mom says tenderly, her smile soft. "Emily and I have searched for a long time, and I'm so glad I found you. I know it's all too strange, and maybe too much to take in right now, but we can start slow if that makes you comfortable. I'm Bridget, your aunt."

I stare at the hand she's extending for a handshake, and I don't take it. I meet her light blue gaze and raise my chin. "I'm an orphan. My parents were Andrea and Nolan Wilsons. I don't know who you are ma'am, but I have only one aunt, and you are not her."

"I told you she would do that," Ashley snickers, and I swear she's starting to get on my nerves. There's nothing humourous about this situation. It's been a long time, and I know I was adopted, but they will always be my parents. Anna will always be my sister. It doesn't matter that we aren't bound by blood.

Some random woman isn't going to walk into my life and tell me she's family. Family that I don't give two shits about. Emily? Who's Emily?

Bridget tries again. "This must be hard for you--"

I'm on my feet before she can finish that thought."You think this is hard? I mean you no disrespect, ma'am, but I'd rather you not assume what I'm feeling. There's no reason this confrontation would be hard. Adopted or not, I've only ever had one family, and it'll always be the Wilsons. They raised and loved me."

I feel a slight tug on the back of my shirt. Ethan. He's standing too, a steady wall of heat behind me.

Bridget looks like she's torn between weeping and holding me, and I have no idea what to feel about... everything. Accepting her words just feels wrong. I've never felt inclined or curious enough to find out who my biological parents are. Hard to feel tethered or connected to people who for some reason couldn't hold on to you for long enough for their faces or the feel of warmth from them to embed itself in your memory.

Do I want to know what happened? No, and I'm not even mad about it. I just... I'm not interested in the slightest.

I wonder if that makes me a terrible person.

Bridget steps away, only to retrieve a stack of white envelopes in her bag. She gives me a sad smile as she extends them to me. "These are yours. Emily started writing when the doctors said she didn't have much time left, and she knew there was a possibility she'd never meet you."

I stare at them, expecting to feel something. Maybe even grief. But there's nothing, and before I can tell her I don't want them, Ethan takes the envelopes and drapes his arm around my shoulder. "Thank you, Bridget. You've come a long way. You're welcome to stay for however long you wish."

My eyebrows rise at that, but I say nothing as we make our way up the stairs.

"Christ May, did you have to be so...cold?" Ethan mutters when we're behind closed doors.

I plunk down on the mattress, raising my legs up in a playful manner. "I wasn't being cold. I was being real, except you wanted me to pretend to be someone I'm not."

He approaches and drops into a low crouch by the bed's edge. "Promise me you'll read the letters, at least. I can't presume that I understand how you feel, but if I had the chance to hear from my parents one more time, I'd take it."

I drop my legs on his shoulders and prop myself up with my shoulders. "You didn't seem surprised when she mentioned it."

He raises a hand to my calves, caressing my skin. "I had you looked into--not for any terrible reason. I was worried about the call you received from your aunt. I was going to talk to you about it when we got back from the trip." He stops for a heartbeat. "You've known about this too."

I shrug. "Doesn't matter, and...why are they staying for as long as they wish to?"

"So you can get to know your aunt. And your cousin."

I drop my legs. "Heavens forbid that Ashley is my cousin."

Ethan chuckles. "Don't worry. They won't be here for long."

****

Well, Ethan was mistaken. Ashley has stuck around for more than a week. Bridget left the next day, but she paid visits, bringing me invaluable gifts that I couldn't turn down because Ethan made me promise that I'd try to be nice.

Ashley's another issue. The bane of my existence.

I'm more than convinced that the only reason she's stuck around this long is to get Ethan's attention. She's literally everywhere that he is. Dressed in a flimsy dress, or a bikini. Sometimes it's a thong and bra with only a see-through covering it.

One time, she banged on our bedroom door when Ethan and I were...well, you know. Sweaty, shirtless and barely able to get his pants up and erection down, he'd answered the door, only to have her say she thinks something's wrong with her freaking shower.

I thought it was so damn obvious that it was a lie, but Ethan clearly didn't, seeing as he followed her to fix her stupid shower.

Only, he didn't see the smile she gave me as they went down the corridor. It was the smile of a woman who had conquered a battle.

Of course, I followed them to fix the damn shower. Oh, and...someone seemed to have conveniently turned off the water.

Another time, she said she couldn't sleep alone. What the hell is that even? Ethan and I had to stay awake in the sitting room, watching a movie I didn't even like with her.

Ethan's taken time off work to spend time with me. It's supposed to be our honeymoon, and he's invited a conniving woman into our home without asking me, all in the name of getting to know her. Now, it's a honeymoon of three.

Might as well be a threesome, considering the amount of times she's interrupted us having sex. Mentioning it to Ethan makes me sound jealous and irrational, so I hold it all in.

Today, however, my patience has reached its end. Why? I woke up to an empty bed and a note that said Ethan was in the kitchen, making me breakfast.

Well, I'm standing in front of the kitchen and Ashley's blocking the entrance, her chest pressed flush against Ethan's as she stares up at him like she wants to kiss him.