Chapter 33 

ANNA. 

I roll over and over in bed, thinking about a lot of things. ‘A lot of things‘ meaning Mr. O’Connor and his audacity. 

Really. While the dinner was nice, he’d frustrated me. It begun with kicking my foot underneath the table like a stupid toddler, and feigning innocence. 

No way that man didn’t know he was kicking my foot the entire time. Sean had been too busy sucking up to Ethan’s cousin, for whatever reason that was, to notice I was being…tormented. 

And when I went into the kitchen to get Finn some orange juice, the man had followed me right in, shutting the fridge just as I opened it. 

I remember clearly how his blue eyes had danced with mischief as he leaned against it, peering down at me. 

“Why do you keep bothering me?” I chided in a hushed tone, looking back not once, but twice to ensure Finn was still on my seat, snacking on his dessert and Sean was still too engrossed in his conversation to notice us. 

“I’m offended,” he said. “Many crave my attention and would be more than happy-” 

“I don’t care. All I want is the damn orange juice and you are in my way!” I yelled the last three words as I pulled the fridge’s handle hard. 

Mr. O’Connor laughed as he pulled away from it, letting me grab the orange juice. “Your husband-” 

“I’m not having this conversation with you. Not now, not ever,” I told him coolly as I made my way to the counter where a couple of tumblers were in disarray. 

He ignored me and continued like he didn’t hear a single word I said. “Is he always like that?” 

I swallowed, feigning disinterest. “Leave me alone.” 

“If I had a wife as good–looking as you, I’d never take my eyes or hands off her.” 

I jerked, spilling the juice everywhere on the counter and Mr. O’Connor chuckled, stretching around me to grab a cloth with which he cleans the mess. “Jumpy now, are we?” 

I turned my gaze to him and growled. “Enjoying this, are you?” 

His grin widened. “Very much so, Mrs.” 

I leaned against the counter, fingers tightening into fists. “This is the last time I warn you. This is the last time you make such comments. I am not one of your women and I never will be. I’m married and you keep disrespecting me and my husband every time you open your 

Chapter 33 

mouth. I’m not interested in you or working for you. You bug me one more time 

“And what? You’ll break my nose?” he cooed, jarring me. I took five seconds to breathe in deeply before I could make good on my promise to actually hit him. 

“Stay away from me,” I warned and started to walk away. 

“It was a joke, the list,” he suddenly said and I paused, tilting my head a little to look at him.” You don’t have to pay for the damages. I fixed the car myself.” 

The groan that escaped my throat was louder than the last. “Do not play these games with me. 

“Why? You’re so uptight and strict, it’s fun to push your buttons. Might I say I look forward to you breaking my nose when you grow weary of my games and jokes?” 

I turned around and left without another word, hating that he had gotten to me and made me so angry, I do not have a short fuse. I’m calm, collected and understanding. Always. 

But recently, with everything happening with Sean, I find my patience wearing thinner and thinner by the minute. 

I roll over in bed again, gripping the pillow tightly as I think of Mr. O’Connor’s offer. What if I applied? Would he take me for the job? Why would he? So I can put up little skirts and play dress up with him? 

I need to get a job. Waiting on Sean to come to his senses has become difficult. Having to wait for him to give me an allowance to restock the groceries seems foolhardy. He barely even eats 

at home anymore. 

Just as he comes to mind, the doorknob to the guestroom twists and I bolt upright into a sitting position. 

Two knocks and I am standing from the bed, tiptoeing. Sean knocks again and tries opening the door, but he grunts as it comes away locked. “Anna? Open up. We need to talk.” 

Talk, my derriere. I don’t want to talk to Sean. Definitely not about the question I had asked in the car. I’m scared of what the answer will be. I am scared of looking him in the eye to find out 

that he’s lying to me. 

It’ll break me. It already is breaking me. I have to thank that infuriating man for giving me a small reprieve from my reality—suspecting my husband. 

“Anna!” Sean yells and I walk over to open the door. 

“What? You’ll wake Finn,” I whisper through the tiny crevice between the door and its frame. 

“I don’t care,” Sean says, pushing the door open and it sort of brushes against my forehead. Only, brush is a mild word in comparison. “What are you doing in here?” 

“Sleeping,” I say dryly, rubbing the stinging spot. “What else does it look like?” 

Chapter 33 

“You left our room to sleep in the guest room?” 

“You’ve been doing it for days now. Why can’t I? 

Sean lunges for me, grabbing either of my arms and air is knocked out of my lungs as he pushes me up against the wall. His lips crash into mine and I gasp as his teeth bite into my bottom lip aggressively. “I saw him touch you,” he murmurs. 

My hands come up between us, lying against his chest as I try to push him off. “Get off me,” I say against his lips, but it is muffled and comes out in pants and whispers. 

“Why? You don’t want me anymore?” he growls and the scent of alcohol teases my nostrils. 

He’s drunk. 

“No! Get off!” I yell, pushing his face back and twisting between him and the wall in hopes of escaping him. 

But he catches me and flattens my front against the wall. He starts to pull off my jacket, but I ram the heel of my slippers into his foot so hard, he rears back and I use his imbalance to push 

him off me. 

My hand connects with his cheek before I even realize it and he looks at me, stunned. “You hit me.” 

“I’ll fucking do it again if you touch me with your filthy hands!” I scream, wiping my aching lip. “For days, I begged you to return home to me. To our son. You didn’t. You’ve lied to me, again and again, and I said nothing, because I didn’t want to think about it, or believe that you would do that to me or Finn. Me! Have I not given you everything that I have and am?” 

“What are you talking about?” he asks, but his voice shakes slightly. 

“Who were you talking to today, over the phone?” 

“Mr. Bradley.” 

My lips quiver. “Get out.” 

He blinks in surprise. “This is my- 

“Get out!” I scream, and he observes me for a moment, eyes widening with clarity. 

He leaves after a moment and I shut the door after him, locking it. 

Liar, I whisper as I sob softly.