LA: Loyalty or Annihilation

Chapter 2

Kristal's POV

I don't remember riding the elevator.

One minute, I'm standing in the parking garage staring at my dead phone like it personally betrayed me, and the next, I'm unlocking the door to our top-floor apartment.

Our apartment.

Mine and Shawn's.

The thought makes my stomach turn.

I stumble inside and drop everything haphazardly by the door—purse, keys, work bag, shoes.

Whatever.

Someone can break in and rob us blind tonight for all I care.

Actually, no.

They better leave my s**t.

Shawn's?

Fair game.

I walk straight to our bedroom in a daze, plug my phone into the charger, and watch the little battery symbol appear.

Then I collapse backward onto our king-size bed.

Arms out.

Legs spread.

A miserable f*****g starfish.

I stare at the ceiling.

"I love you."

My heart pounds.

"I love you too."

My eyes burn.

"You're the reason I'm here."

"Who the f**k was she?"

Silence.

Of course.

I squeeze my eyes shut.

Maybe I misunderstood.

Maybe—

"No."

Stop making excuses for him, Kristal.

But what am I supposed to believe?

Shawn loves me.

We're getting married.

We've built five years of our lives together.

Five years.

Five f*****g years.

My chest aches.

I'm confused.

I'm hurt.

I'm—

My eyes snap open.

Angry.

There it is.

Hot, vicious anger slowly crawling underneath all that heartbreak.

Because if Shawn Montgomery has been playing in my face—

I sit upright.

"Nope."

Not tonight.

I'm not confronting anybody looking like I just finished a ten-hour shift at the clinic.

I grab my robe and head toward the bathroom.

Bath.

Then sleep.

Or attempt it.

Because Shawn will eventually come home.

And when he does?

I need to be calm enough to figure out whether my fiancé has an explanation...

Or a death wish.

---

Shawn's POV

"I love you."

Three simple f*****g words that have somehow managed to destroy my life.

Twice.

I glance toward Jade from behind the steering wheel.

She's looking out the passenger window, watching Los Angeles blur past us beneath the evening lights.

Beautiful.

She's always been beautiful.

And that's part of my problem.

I love my wife.

I love my fiancée.

And before anybody says it—

Yes.

I know exactly how f****d up that sounds.

Jade and I have been married for seven years.

Seven.

When we first got married, I thought nothing could come between us.

Then her career happened.

Jade didn't just practice law.

She consumed it.

Criminal.

Corporate.

Civil.

International.

Whatever challenged her, she wanted it.

And she was damn good.

Too good.

Her reputation grew.

So did the opportunities.

Then came Europe.

Three years.

Three f*****g years of my wife bouncing between countries because of one massive case that turned into another assignment, another meeting, another extension.

At first, I supported her.

What kind of husband would I have been if I didn't?

But phone calls replaced dinners.

Video chats replaced touching her.

Anniversaries became deliveries.

Arguments became silence.

Eventually, we barely felt married.

Then a serious case brought me to New Jersey.

The morning of the case at a crowded quaint little café, Kristal walked into my life.

I wasn't looking for her.

That's what I tell myself, anyway.

Kristal was warm where my marriage had become cold.

Present where Jade was absent.

She laughed at my stupid jokes. Asked about my day and actually waited for the answer.

Being around her made me remember what companionship felt like.

One conversation became coffee.

Coffee became dinner.

Dinner became something neither of us could pretend was innocent anymore.

I should've stopped it.

I didn't.

Instead, I fell in love with her.

By then, Jade and I barely communicated outside of necessities. In my mind, our marriage was already dead.

I just hadn't buried it legally.

That distinction didn't seem important then.

Now it's destroying everything.

When the Los Angeles opportunity came, I took it.

Kristal came with me.

Eventually, I proposed.

I convinced myself California would be my second beginning.

Kristal would be my future.

Jade would become my past.

Except there was one problem.

Nobody told Jade.

I grip the steering wheel tighter.

When she finally returned to California, she expected to find her husband.

Instead, she found an empty home and questions.

So Jade did what Jade does best.

She investigated.

The private investigator found me in New Jersey.

Found my firm.

Found Kristal.

Found everything.

*FLASHBACK*

One night, months ago, while I was working late, my office door flew open.

Jade stood there.

I hadn't seen my wife in years.

I forgot how to breathe.

Then she slapped me.

Hard.

"What the f**k, Shawn?!"

What followed was probably the ugliest argument we've ever had.

She screamed.

I screamed.

She accused me of abandoning our marriage.

I accused her of abandoning me first.

She reminded me she was working.

I reminded her that husbands aren't supposed to spend three years sleeping alone.

Then she asked the question I hadn't prepared myself for.

"Did you ever tell me it was over?"

No.

I hadn't.

"Did you file for divorce?"

No.

"Did you even ask me for one?"

No.

Every answer made me look worse.

Then she cried.

Jade almost never cries.

That broke something in me.

I pulled her into my arms.

She fought me.

I held tighter.

Then I kissed her.

And every ounce of anger, loneliness, resentment, and love we'd buried exploded.

We made up with the same intensity we'd fought, recklessly rediscovering each other throughout my office like two people trying to reclaim three lost years in one night.

When morning came, reality returned.

I had a wife asleep against my chest.

And a fiancée waiting for me at home.

That should've been when I made a decision.

Instead, I made another mistake.

I kept both.

Jade knows about Kristal now.

Everything.

I confessed.

She wasn't happy.

Hell, "not happy" doesn't begin to describe it.

But eventually, she understood how we'd gotten here.

Understanding isn't forgiveness.

And it damn sure isn't permission.

Jade has made that clear.

She's done traveling.

She's restructuring her career.

She's settling permanently in California.

And she wants something we've talked about since before we got married.

A family.

With me.

"I want my husband back."

Her voice pulls me into the present.

I glance at her.

"Jade—"

"No."

She turns toward me.

"Don't Jade me."

I sigh.

She studies my face.

"I gave you time, Shawn."

"I know."

"I accepted my part in what happened to us."

"I know."

"I even accepted that you fell in love with somebody while I was gone."

My jaw tightens.

"But I'm here now."

That's the problem.

She's here.

Kristal is here.

And I love them both.

Differently.

Jade is history.

Marriage.

Fire.

She's the woman who knew me before the money, before the reputation, before anybody cared about Shawn Montgomery.

Kristal is peace.

Home.

She's the woman who stood beside me while I rebuilt everything.

How the hell am I supposed to choose between my history and my future?

"You told her yet?" Jade asks.

My silence answers.

Her expression hardens.

"Shawn."

"I'm going to."

"When?"

"I don't know."

"That's not an answer."

"I f*****g know that."

She looks away.

I immediately regret snapping.

"Jade—"

"Take me home."

*END FLASHBACK*

I tighten my grip on the steering wheel.

Neither of us spoken for several minutes.

My phone sits inside the center console. I haven't looked at it since leaving the restaurant.

Something nags at me.

I reach over at the next red light and pick it up.

The screen is open.

Recent calls.

My stomach drops.

Kristal ❤️ — 8:47

Outgoing.

Eight minutes and forty-seven seconds.

"What the f**k?"

Jade looks over.

"What?"

I stare at the screen.

I don't remember calling Kristal.

Then I remember tossing my phone into the cup holder when Jade climbed into the car.

My pulse accelerates.

"No..."

"What happened?"

I hit Kristal's name.

Straight to voicemail.

Again.

Voicemail.

"Shawn?"

I barely hear Jade.

I'm replaying the last ten minutes inside my head.

What did we say?

What could Kristal have heard?

I love you.

Jesus Christ.

I call again.

Voicemail.

Jade watches me.

Understanding slowly crosses her face.

"You called her?"

"Not intentionally."

Her eyebrows rise.

"Meaning?"

"Butt dial."

Silence.

"Oh."

That's all my wife says.

Oh.

I stare through the windshield as the light turns green.

The driver behind me honks.

I don't move.

Another horn.

"Shawn," Jade says quietly.

I finally accelerate.

My heart is pounding now.

Maybe Kristal didn't answer.

Maybe the call connected inside her purse.

Maybe she didn't hear anything.

Maybe her phone died before—

Who the f**k am I kidding?

Sooner or later, I'm going home.

Kristal will be there.

And whether she heard tonight's conversation or not, the truth hasn't changed.

I have a woman waiting in our apartment wearing my engagement ring.

And another woman sitting beside me wearing my wedding band.

I've spent months pretending I could find the perfect moment to fix this without destroying anyone.

There isn't one.

Jade was right.

I have to choose.

And no matter which woman I choose...

I'm about to break someone's heart.