Chapter 3
I drove to the hotel.
Nicole had told me, “That old woman’s son is meeting the family today- right here at this hotel.”
Following the address Nicole sent, I found the hotel’s banquet hall. The moment I stepped inside, I spotted Riley. He moved around like he owned the place, directing the servers and arranging everything with a host’s ease. Then I saw Jasmine, smiling as she walked up to him.
“Riley.”
Jasmine slipped her arm through his, beaming.
“Thank goodness for you–we managed to get 130,000 dollars.
“If not, we never would’ve sealed the deal on Simon’s wedding gift.” Jasmine leaned in and kissed Riley on the cheek. I watched as his face flushed and he gazed at her tenderly.
“It’s just 130 grand,” he said softly, “if it makes you happy, it’s worth every penny.”
Riley handed her a property deed.
“I’ve got the house and the car ready.
“Simon’s practically my own son now. I’ll make sure everything goes smoothly for him–you can count on me.”
I watched Riley’s gentle expression, and my mind flashed back to when
we bought our very first home together. He’d looked at me with the same
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tenderness, holding me close as he pointed out the view through the floor- to–ceiling windows.
“Alora,” he’d said.
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“One day, I’ll make it big in Orlando, and you’ll be my only partner.
“Alora.”
Riley had been so gentle that night.
“I’ll love you forever.”
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Our love had never soured. Even just last month, when my flight to Paris hit turbulence, Riley had panicked the moment he heard. He called me right away, his voice trembling.
“Alora, I already bought a ticket–I’m coming to Paris.
“I just can’t stand the thought of you being alone.”
How could that Riley show the same tenderness to someone else? It felt like someone had carved out a piece of my heart. I forced down the bitter ache as I overheard Jasmine ask him, “What about her?
“What are you going to do?”
Jasmine traced circles on Riley’s chest.
“I don’t like sharing you with anyone. You know I can’t stand being the other woman, but for you, I’ve become exactly what I hate.
“Riley, sometimes I really hate what I’ve turned into, but I just can’t make myself stop loving you.”
I watched Jasmine’s eyes well up with tears. Riley quickly wiped them away, reassuring her, “I’ll tell her.
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“I’ll choose you.”
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My heart plummeted–like a plane dropping from the sky, falling fast and
hard.
I saved all the evidence, went to the bank, and printed out every statement. Then, I called Riley.
The line rang several times before he picked up, his voice deliberately low.
‘Alora, I’m busy.”
It was noisy on his end; his tone was impatient.
“What is it? Can’t this wait?”
I told Riley, “We need to talk.”
The truth is, I’ve always been sensitive–Riley knew that better than
anyone.
Back then, if I caught a whiff of perfume on him that didn’t belong, I’d track down the ambitious little assistant trying to climb her way up and demand Riley give me an explanation.
He did he fired the assistant on the spot, banned her from ever working for him again.
Riley had told me, “Alora, I know you’re sensitive. That’s why I’ll never let you feel insecure.”
Now, I told Riley, “If you still care about everything we’ve been through, then sit down and talk with me.”
