Page 104 of The Betrayal

“So, chances...”

“Chances. But it's just that. A chance. A slim fucking chance and you know, it only takes once,” I nod, bringing my glass to my lips again.

“Slim.”

“Yup, but still.”

“Shit,” he murmurs again then pats the space next to him. I stroll over, sitting and letting my head rest on the back of the sofa, I feel Kaleb's hand on my shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze before we just sit in silence.

Complete and utter silence.

We're fucked.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

ARIZONA

I slept in my own room last night. Keaton didn't come to find me, and I didn't find myself wandering towards the place that feels like home. In his arms. Head on his chest as I listen to the steady beat of his heart. Instead, I woke up feeling alone and abandoned and I only have myself to blame for that. I kept pushing and pushing until I had put a wedge between us because I am so scared of him leaving me and walking away.

Nothing about the last six months has gone the way I wanted. This is not the dream I had envisaged.

Pulling myself from bed, I shower and dress in sweatpants and a loose, oversized tee. Nothing fits and I need new clothes but that's not on the top of my list at the moment.

What's on the top of my list is moving out and focusing on earning as much money as I can, but without the stage and eventually, the private dances, the money is going to dwindle into nothing.

How the fuck am I going to bring up two kids?

My head is in my hands for just a moment when I internally slap myself. Pull yourself together.

Pushing my glasses up the bridge of my nose, I pull my hair into a messy pony and walk towards the kitchen. The coffee pot is hot, so I pour myself a decaf with creamer and do myself a bowl of cereal with cold milk.

I'm not alone long when Keaton walks into the kitchen looking as handsome, if not even more so, than usual and wearing the perfect Tom Ford suit.

“Morning,” his voice is gruff and he can't even look at me.

“Morning,” I whisper, my eyes on my bowl of cereal and suddenly I am not hungry anymore. I hear the sound of him reaching for a mug and I ignore the urge to peek a look at him over my shoulder.

My phone beeps, my brows furrow and I turn it over to see a message from Lucy. Shit, I have really neglected her.

Lucy

Hey beautiful, you working tonight? xo

Then another.

Lucy

Sorry to ask, but what's Keaton's problem? I messaged him a few days ago asking to see him and he replied with 'not tonight luce, maybe another'. Is he seeing someone else because the last time we were together he sounded pretty adamant that he wanted us to be a little more than fuck buddies... but yeah, do you know anything? xo.

My heart jack hammers in my chest and the rage slowly seeps into my blood stream.

I spin on my stool, one leg over the other, arms crossed against my chest.

His eyes lift, brows raised as he leans against the surface. Phone in one hand, coffee in the other.

“Heard from Lucy at all?” I ask, and that gets him standing a little taller.

“Not in a while, why?”