Series: Shame On You Series by Willow Winters
Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 51495 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 257(@200wpm)___ 206(@250wpm)___ 172(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51495 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 257(@200wpm)___ 206(@250wpm)___ 172(@300wpm)
“I...” She has a genuine look on her face, like she might tell me if I said yes. “I don’t know. I seriously don’t.” I don’t know why I feel so disappointed in myself. I’ve never wanted to know. I never wanted to be in this life. All I wanted was him. And look where it’s gotten me.
Aria nods, understanding as I swallow down my thoughts. “Do you want to drink?”
“Yes. Yes, I do.” She passes by me grabbing a bag of fruit and nut mix, and I blurt out what I’m thinking before I can stop myself. “He lied to me.”
This time it’s shame that passes through me.
She pauses, thinking, and looks me in the eye, her gaze a mix of understanding but also one of pity. “This world is fucked up, and so are our men.”
“I don’t know how to think straight if he’s lying to me. Or why I would want to know anything if I won’t even know if it’s true.”
“Given the state he’s been in, I doubt he’ll ever lie to you again.” She nudges me gently out of the way, opens the fridge, and reaches in for an open bottle of wine. She pours us glasses while telling me I should tell Declan how much it hurts. She says he’s a lost puppy. It's hard to imagine Declan Cross like that. It’s even harder to imagine he’d listen to me. She hands one glass to me, closes the fridge with her hip, and takes a long sip from hers. The chilled glass in my hand is tempting. “Come on. Carter told me it’ll be a little bit before they’re back. I have something I want to show you.”
She doesn’t wait for me to agree before turning her back.
I follow her through to the wing of the house where Carter and Aria live. It’s warmer than I imagined it would be. The walls are a soft cream but colorful paintings line the way. Giggles reach me through the hall. Children playing, somewhere in the house. I pause when I hear them and it’s Aria’s short laugh that brings my attention back to her. Aria smiles but doesn’t look for them.
“Addison’s with them. They’re supposed to be in bed, but she spoils them so I’m pretending not to hear it for now.”
I forgot there were children here. It’s a wonder how they keep their kids separate from all of this. No one ever mentions them. It’s as if they don’t exist in the real world.
She walks gracefully through the long hallway. All the doors are painted a dark navy blue and complement the gray slate herringbone floor. Where Declan’s wing is stark and cold, this wing is lived in. Every detail of this place is beautiful. I’m intimidated by how big this place is, but Aria belongs here. It’s hers. Aria’s beautiful, and she commands authority. I can’t imagine this woman ever being afraid. Even if everything turns out all right between Declan and me, can I ever belong here? I could never be a woman like her. I still can’t imagine myself in the world I know to be run by the Cross brothers.
I almost ask her how she does it. How she shuts out some parts and hides others. Instead, she gestures to me to continue, passing the open threshold that leads to her children and other closed doors.
She takes another sip of her wine. “There’s a therapist I’ve seen,” Aria mentions casually. “Carter mentioned you may want her info.” My cheeks burn. Aria turns to look at me. “Don’t worry about it either way. It’s good to have her info just in case you decide you want to talk one night. She comes here, so it’s all in person, and she can be here in minutes. Actually, she’s a lawyer for us, so you’re fine to tell her whatever you’d like.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.”
Aria stops beside a door, takes a skeleton key out of her pocket, and unlocks it. All the while my heart races and I wonder what Aria knows. I imagine everything.
She smiles at me while she opens the door and I’m blown away at what’s inside it. Inside is an art studio, the thick dove gray curtains are drawn over the window. So it’s dark and a little intense, and…I like it. There’s an energy that radiates in the room.
“Do you like it?” Aria questions as if my opinion matters. I step into the room completely in awe. “I love it,” I answer her honestly. Art and canvases take up a lot of the space on one side. They’re mostly charcoal pieces featuring abstract adult figures, but there are also acrylic pieces with bright colors and watercolors that feature scenery and children. I can only imagine they’re her children. Apart from the art, there’s a long dark wooden table that’s littered with glass jars filled with brushes and cans of paint. It’s a very organized chaos. I can tell each part of it has meaning to Aria. It’s where it should be, even if it appears to be a mess.