not the sound of the TV and the smell of the potpourri that they always bought. It was empty, even though their furniture was still there. Probably a good thing we never put it on the market, she thought as she closed and locked the door.
Isa rubbed her stomach absently as the babies within her kicked as if to show their disapproval of her choice. Jealousy led to hurt, but she wasn’t stupid and she didn’t think she was overreacting. A man like Bryce probably got dressed in a hotel suite he owned because he planned to spend some naked time with the brunette later. Wasn’t that how the rich led their lives? The little woman at home taking care of the children while they were out painting the town red? As long as the money came in wifey shouldn’t complain right? Isa swiped tears that had begun to fall angrily. She hated feeling this way and she sure as shit didn’t need his money. He could play with his fancy friends and she would stay who she always was—Isa Croix, a survivor. Still, the thought made her cry harder. They’d made a cast of her belly and today had felt right. What she thought was a solid foundation for a life with their children meant nothing.
“What do you expect? You guys barely kiss and he obviously has an appetite for the women,” she muttered.
Isa lay in her bed and pulled the covers up over her well-worn bathrobe. She pressed her face into her pillow, remembering the first night she was home. Tawny had opened the curtains and woke her up. She’d felt happiness knowing she would be stable on land for the first time since joining the Navy. The babies tossed and kicked within her and she ran her hand over her stomach lovingly. They were her heart, her reason for living now. Isa began to sing a soft lullaby and continued till she fell asleep.
She woke up to pounding on her door, the sound so loud she sat up with a gasp. At first it took her a moment to realize she wasn’t in the room at Bryce’s mansion, but her own apartment. Isa looked at her phone. It was after two in the morning and there was a list of missed calls from Bryce. There was no doubt who was at the door.
Isa got up slowly, wondering how he got through the gate. It was either let him in or deal with the cops if someone called because of the noise. Last thing she needed was to deal with a police car in front of her apartment. When she opened the door, Bryce was still wearing the tux she’d seen him in on TV. The bowtie the brunette played with was open and handing down on the crisp white shirt. Isa thought she could even smell a hint of female perfume.
“Mind telling me why you’re here and I come home to find you gone?” Bryce strode into the apartment.
“I locked that gate before I came up,” Isa commented.
“I broke the lock,” Bryce answered. There was no apology in his voice and she doubted she was getting one. “I’ll have it fixed tomorrow, so why the hell aren’t you home?”
“I figured you’d need your space for the brunette. You certainly don’t want to explain why the pregnant black chick is coming downstairs for breakfast,” Isa snapped. “Besides, that goliath empty structure isn’t my home.
“What the hell are you talking about?” he asked in exasperation.
She looked at him, astonished. “You went to a gala, you were on the red carpet. The brunette who had her tongue so far down your throat she could probably lick your tonsils... Really, Bryce, if you were trying to keep it a secret, don’t kiss a woman in front of the cameras.”
He flushed. “You saw that.”
“No, I had a vision in my crystal ball. Of course I saw,” Isa said, and felt tears burn her eyes. “The thing is, you kissed me today, said all those things to make me trust you, and then you decide to tongue wrestle with some socialite.”
“It wasn’t like that,” Bryce said softly. She saw the anger leave his eyes.
“Sure,” she said bitterly. “Who wants the fat pregnant black girl on your arm when you
Isa rubbed her stomach absently as the babies within her kicked as if to show their disapproval of her choice. Jealousy led to hurt, but she wasn’t stupid and she didn’t think she was overreacting. A man like Bryce probably got dressed in a hotel suite he owned because he planned to spend some naked time with the brunette later. Wasn’t that how the rich led their lives? The little woman at home taking care of the children while they were out painting the town red? As long as the money came in wifey shouldn’t complain right? Isa swiped tears that had begun to fall angrily. She hated feeling this way and she sure as shit didn’t need his money. He could play with his fancy friends and she would stay who she always was—Isa Croix, a survivor. Still, the thought made her cry harder. They’d made a cast of her belly and today had felt right. What she thought was a solid foundation for a life with their children meant nothing.
“What do you expect? You guys barely kiss and he obviously has an appetite for the women,” she muttered.
Isa lay in her bed and pulled the covers up over her well-worn bathrobe. She pressed her face into her pillow, remembering the first night she was home. Tawny had opened the curtains and woke her up. She’d felt happiness knowing she would be stable on land for the first time since joining the Navy. The babies tossed and kicked within her and she ran her hand over her stomach lovingly. They were her heart, her reason for living now. Isa began to sing a soft lullaby and continued till she fell asleep.
She woke up to pounding on her door, the sound so loud she sat up with a gasp. At first it took her a moment to realize she wasn’t in the room at Bryce’s mansion, but her own apartment. Isa looked at her phone. It was after two in the morning and there was a list of missed calls from Bryce. There was no doubt who was at the door.
Isa got up slowly, wondering how he got through the gate. It was either let him in or deal with the cops if someone called because of the noise. Last thing she needed was to deal with a police car in front of her apartment. When she opened the door, Bryce was still wearing the tux she’d seen him in on TV. The bowtie the brunette played with was open and handing down on the crisp white shirt. Isa thought she could even smell a hint of female perfume.
“Mind telling me why you’re here and I come home to find you gone?” Bryce strode into the apartment.
“I locked that gate before I came up,” Isa commented.
“I broke the lock,” Bryce answered. There was no apology in his voice and she doubted she was getting one. “I’ll have it fixed tomorrow, so why the hell aren’t you home?”
“I figured you’d need your space for the brunette. You certainly don’t want to explain why the pregnant black chick is coming downstairs for breakfast,” Isa snapped. “Besides, that goliath empty structure isn’t my home.
“What the hell are you talking about?” he asked in exasperation.
She looked at him, astonished. “You went to a gala, you were on the red carpet. The brunette who had her tongue so far down your throat she could probably lick your tonsils... Really, Bryce, if you were trying to keep it a secret, don’t kiss a woman in front of the cameras.”
He flushed. “You saw that.”
“No, I had a vision in my crystal ball. Of course I saw,” Isa said, and felt tears burn her eyes. “The thing is, you kissed me today, said all those things to make me trust you, and then you decide to tongue wrestle with some socialite.”
“It wasn’t like that,” Bryce said softly. She saw the anger leave his eyes.
“Sure,” she said bitterly. “Who wants the fat pregnant black girl on your arm when you
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