Billionaire, I Am Not Your Wife!

Taking A Risk

Chapter 5 : Taking A Risk

Sedona’s POV

I stared at Logan's response until the words blurred together on the screen. I blinked and felt the hot tears roll down my cheeks. I cleaned it off with my hands as the screen became clearer once more as I reread the text that my soon-to-be ex-husband sent.

"Stop this, Sedona. Why can't you be more tolerant? Katherine is injured and needs time to recover. Stop being so selfish." I laughed at this, a bitter sharp laugh that tore from my throat as tears rolled down again as I battled hard to wipe them, but it kept spilling until I was sobbing.

Selfish. He thought I was being selfish.

I was dying, and my husband thought I was being selfish for wanting to see my son, in what might be my last memories before I would head to the great beyond. He called me selfish for wanting to tell him I had cancer.

His thoughts were soon unbelievable as I felt the urge to laugh at how cruel and ridiculous it was. I pressed my hand to my mouth, afraid that if I started laughing I might never stop. Or worse, that the laughter would turn to screaming.

Katherine was injured. A tennis injury. Something that would heal in weeks, maybe months.

I was dying. Three months if I was lucky. Less even, the doctor's gave an estimate, but I have seen people who thought they had more time, only to drop dead a week later.

But Katherine's twisted ankle, or whatever godforsaken minor injury had brought her back to Chicago, and straight into my husband's hand, that was what took priority. That was the kind of heavy and scary injury that demanded both my husband and son, to be at her side 24/7.

My fingers moved across the screen, finally deciding to type what I thought of this entire situation.

"Then take good care of your Katherine."

I hit send and watched the message turn from "delivered" to "read." Then I waited. One minute. Two. Five. Ten minutes, I refreshed again, thinking it was network but there was no response.

Of course not. He'd probably already turned his phone off, to avoid talking to me, so I wouldn't bother him with irrelevant things anymore. Being the kind of man he was, he was too busy being the perfect family with Katherine and Nick to be bothered with his dying wife's dramatics.

I set the phone down on the bed and looked around the room that had been my room...no, not room anymore. It was time that I spelled out the bitter truth, that I had been too blind to see, my prison for years. Everything in it spoke of wealth and privilege, a design that wouldn't be found in over 70% of average family houses.

I could note the silk curtains, the designer furniture, the original artwork commissioned by famous artists on the walls. Logan had given me all of this, as if expensive things could substitute for love. Like he was saying, 'oh here is my wealth, but my heart belongs to Katherine, sorry.'

Maybe to him, he really believed money could substitute for loe. After all, I'd been just another acquisition, hadn't I? Something to be bought off the market, just because I had the unfortunate fate of being a lookalike to Katherine. And not just that, he saw me as a manageable Katherine replacement to satisfy his granmotherr's demands for marriage and an heir.

Mission accomplished, Logan. You got your heir. Now you can have the original back, and discard the used replacement.

My phone sat on the nightstand next to my wedding ring, both of them symbols of promises that had never been real. Next to them was another piece of paper—the one I'd been avoiding looking at for three years.

I picked it up with shaking hands. It was worn from being folded and unfolded countless times in those first few months after I'd run away, before I'd forced myself to stop looking at it.

My brother Cameron's phone number, was scribbled on the back of a business card.

He'd given it to me at a family dinner two weeks before my wedding to Enzo.

"If you ever need anything," he'd said quietly while our parents argued about the seating arrangements and floral arrangements while Enzo was with them trying to pacify both women who had different ideas of what the wedding should be like. "Anything at all, Sedona. Even if you do something crazy. Even if you run. Call me. I'll listen, I wont judge and I will be on your side, no matter what."

I'd run. And I'd never called.

For years, I'd told myself it was because I was happy, because I'd found real love, with someone that I never expected. I convinced myself that I didn't need my family's wealth or connections or arranged marriages to be happy and well fulfilled in life. I'd been so proud of my independence, so sure I'd made the right choice in picking Logan.

But pride was a luxury I could no longer afford.

My hands trembled as I picked up my phone and dialed the number I'd memorized but never used. It rang once. Twice.

What if he didn't answer? What if he'd changed his number? What if he was so angry at me for disappearing that he'd—

"Hello?"

Cameron's voice hit me like a physical blow as I felt my breath cut short as both hope and fear warred inside me, seeking dominance. His voice never changed one bit, it still sounded exactly the same as I remembered. I opened my mouth but no sound came out.

"Hello? Is anyone there?"

"Cam?" My voice broke on his name, and suddenly I was crying—deep, wrenching sobs that I couldn't control. "Cam, it's me."

There was a pause, and then: "Sedona? Sedona, is that you?"

"I'm so sorry," I gasped between sobs, unable to stop crying as everything was hitting me at once: the abandonment, the indifference, the pain, and Cam's concern for me despite the fact that he was justified in leaving me to my fate. "I'm so sorry, Cam. I should have called. I should have—"