I wave and watch her walk back the way she came.
I practically sprint across the yard to the house. Excited to finally be alone with Cain, I jog up the porch steps. Do I knock or just go in? I choose to just go in and let him know I am here. I head straight up the stairs, where he’s told me his bedroom is, and tap lightly on his closed door. No answer. I twist the knob slowly, with visions of him lying in bed waiting for me.
Gently I push it open, my excitement bursting from within me. Then, my eyes go wide and my heart drops to the fucking floor because my husband is in his bed. But not with me, his wife.
“Cain!” I scream.
She turns around, her long, blond hair swinging right along with her. Her fake boobs getting groped by his hands. A crude smile flashes across her face as she sees me watching her glide up and down on my HUSBAND’S DICK!
“Calla!”
I just look at him, confused, hurt, and angry, and run. Not once do I look back.
Chapter One
Six Years Later
Six years. Seventy-two months. Two thousand and ninety-one days and way too many damn minutes it’s been since my feet have stepped on American soil.
And here I am sitting in my Mercedes coupe shaking like a bitch while I wait in line to cross over the Canadian border into Michigan.
What was supposed to be the best day of my life all those years ago drove me here when on my wedding night I found my husband fucking another woman in his bed. Not just any woman either, she was the one I was warned about by Cain’s stepmom moments before I went into his house and caught him. Stupid whoring club slut.
Nice, wouldn’t you say? I was young and na?ve like my mom said when I told her we eloped to get married. I wasn’t smart enough back then to realize I had been set up to walk in and find him with some skank riding him.
My mind went blank and I drove across the border to Canada and never once came back. I threw my phone in the river and ended up in a bed and breakfast just outside of Windsor, Canada.
Those first few days I stayed locked in my room until the owner, Mrs. Henry, knocked on my door. When I didn’t answer, she let herself in and found me in the same clothes as when I had arrived. A fucking mess is what I was. She convinced me to call my parents, which I did, and both of them came to me trying to convince me to go back home.
My dad was on a rampage, wanting to kill Cain for hurting me, but my mother made him calm the hell down. I stood my ground and told her that I never wanted to see either one of those dickheads again.
Even with Windsor being right across the river from Detroit, it took a little convincing and two weeks of my mom staying with me to get her to let me stay. Meanwhile, she ignored all of Cain’s phone calls. He left voice mail after voice mail until she finally turned her phone off, leaving him no way to get in touch with me at all.
Didn’t stop the asshole, though. He resorted to going by their house continuously, pounding on the door, pleading and begging my father to tell him where I was. Dad hated him before he cheated and even more so after. He told him nothing. Cain continued going to my parents’ house every day for about a month, sitting outside in his car when my dad stopped answering the door. One day he just stopped. Fell off the face of the earth, just like I did.
My name is still Calla, but my last name is no longer Bexley or Greer, which was my maiden name. It’s now Calla Bexley-Henry, which wasn’t easy to do. It’s complicated but it’s legal.
Legal because I am still fucking married to that piece of shit. Which brings me back to the here and now. I don’t want to be married to him anymore. Going through all the bullshit of living in a foreign country, filing for taxes and most of all, lying to the last man I dated.