(Jayden)I wake up with a pounding headache that swears me off drinking forever. The sunlight is stabbing through the curtains like a knife, and I groan, pulling the covers over my head. My mouth is fully carpeted, and I must have swallowed sandpaper.I roll over and the bed is empty. Wait. My hazy mind is slowly piecing things together. This isn’t Winona’s bedroom, it’s mine.Someone has put my body through a meat grinder, I’m certain. But that’s not the worst of it—no, the worst part is the memories flashing back of that argument, bringing with them a fresh wave of regret.Last night, well early this morning, was a disaster. I can still see the hurt in Winona’s eyes, hear the venom in our voices as we ripped into each other. The alcohol didn’t help, but that’s no excuse. I let my temper get the best of me, and now I’ll pay the price.Wow. Maybe I should just lay here all day. I mean, I could. The extra sleep will do me good. But my eyes pop open and I know there’s not chance of me
(Jayden)“What!? How do you know they never had sex?”“I asked. Not hard to get information, you know.”“So, what the hell am I supposed to do?” I ask, frustration boiling over. “She threw it in my face, like I can just erase the past. I can’t.”“Maybe start by not throwing a tantrum when she brings it up,” Lance says bluntly. “You’ve got to understand where she’s coming from. And for fuck’s sake, stop acting like she’s accusing you of something you didn’t do. You did it, so own it.”I rub my temples, trying to ease the thumping. “And what about you, huh? You’re sitting here pining after Lisa like a goddamn schoolboy who won’t admit he’s in love with the only woman in the world who can possibly put up with him.”He snorts. “Nice try. Actually, I’m meant to be playing golf with Phillip today, pity.”“Phillip?” I scoff. “You’re telling me you’re pining over missing out on golf with Phillip?”Lance laughs, “At least I’m not living in denial like you are.”“Denial?” I snap. “What the hell
(Winona)I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck. My head’s pounding, my stomach’s churning, and every sound stabs into my skull. I groan, pressing my hand to my forehead as I sit up in bed.The memories of last night come flooding back—the party, the drinks, the argument.God, the argument.Anne stayed over with Bobby and Sarah. I hope they never heard us arguing like that. The kids are playing downstairs, their laughter bubbling upwards. It’s the only bright spot in my day so far.I pull on a robe and drag myself down to the kitchen, where the smell of coffee isn’t helping my nausea.“Good afternoon.” Anne glances up from the table, her eyes sharp. “You look like hell,” she says, handing me a mug.“Feel like it, too,” I mutter, taking a sip and wincing. Even the usual coffee tastes too strong. I wince. “Afternoon?” I look at the clock on the wall. “Shit, it’s almost three in the afternoon!”“I heard Jayden slam the door when he left around three in the morning,” Anne says, her voice pr
(Winona)“What kind of sex?” I have no clue what she’s on about.Lisa leans back, “You don’t know? God, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”“Tell me what you mean.” I demand.“It was, you know? Kinky, like Dom and sub kink from what I gathered. She basically did all the things he was into just to keep him on a sexual leash, so to speak.”I want to throw up.“You know,” Lisa says, “maybe you should consider that therapy idea Jayden brought up. It’s not the worst suggestion.” She’s gracefully changing the subject and I’m letting her.But my mind is still locked onto what she said about Jayden’s sex life with Ashlyn. I focus back on the words Lisa just said so she doesn’t see how rattled I am by the earlier revelation. “Go tell a complete stranger my deepest and most irrational fears? Not likely,” I add.“Yeah,” Lisa says with a shrug. “Jayden’s been through therapy for his own stuff, right? Maybe it’s time you both went together. Could help you work through this Ashlyn thing. A
(Winona)Jayden arrives at my door early on Sunday morning, the sun just starting to filter through the trees outside. I wasn’t expecting him this soon; he texted earlier to ask if he could come over. I open the door, and there he is—tall, broad, impossibly handsome. His face is a mix of determination and regret. “Hey,” he says softly, “Thanks for seeing me.”“Hey,” I reply, stepping aside to let him in. “Thanks for wanting to come by. I want to get this cleared up.”We go to the kitchen and I pour us coffee.He takes the cup from me, his fingers brushing mine for just a second, and I can feel the familiar pull, the one that’s always been there, even when everything else felt like it was falling apart. We sat down at the table.“I’m sorry,” he starts, his voice low. “About everything. I know I messed up, Win. I... I never wanted to hurt you like that ever.”I nod, looking down into my coffee, watching the ripples on the surface. “I’m sorry too. For my part in it. Jayden, I think we’
(Winona)The private airstrip stretches out before us, a vast expanse of concrete bordered by high fences and dotted with sleek, black security vehicles. Nexus Global’s logo gleams on the side of the jet, recognisable in every country on this planet, a reminder of the juggernaut that Gus’s empire is.Gus is outside his jet, overseeing the luggage being loaded. He’s in control over every aspect of the flight. Just like his life. His calm, methodical demeanor is unsettling. You can never read Gus. Outside he’s calm and controlled. But I’m under no illusions of the steps he’d have taken to get to where he is now.That includes leaving his only son to be raised in an abusive household as punishment to Judy who refused to go to Europe with him and slept with his brother. This man can make miracles happen, but he can also rain down the fires of Hell without a second thought. This man is Jayden’s father.Do we truly choose to be the person we want to be or does the gene pool have the last
(Winona)I glance at Jayden, wondering how he’s feeling about his mother leaving, but his face is a mask of calm that I can’t read. He hasn’t said much about it, and I can’t tell if he’s relieved or not.For the first time in his life, his mother won’t be hovering over him, dictating his every move, and yet he seems... unmoved.It’s that unreadable expression that sets my nerves even more on edge. I’ve always struggled to understand Jayden’s feelings when it comes to his mother, and now, more than ever, I wish I could see inside his head.Is he happy she’s leaving? Is he secretly afraid, like I am? Or is he just so numb to her influence that he doesn’t care anymore? The uncertainty about his emotions adds another layer to my inner anxiety.“Jayden, dear,” Judy says, turning to him as she stands. She ushers Abby over to me as she approaches her son. “Take care of yourself, won’t you.”Jayden nods, his face remaining impassive. “I’ll be fine,” he says, his voice devoid of emotion.“Good
(Winona)Dr. Barnaby Greyson, M.D., Ph.D.Consultant Psychiatrist and PsychoanalystGuiding the Minds Behind the HeadlinesI hover outside his office door, reading the name over and over. This is it. My nerves are toast. My hands clammy and my heart rate like a racehorse who just finished a steeplechase.I look at Jayden beside me and he looks exactly like I feel.His eyes meet mine. “We got this.”I nod. “We got this.”We step inside together and a receptionist asks us to take a seat after she takes our names.We both sit in silence. I’m sure the clock on the wall is on high volume as the seconds tick over.Then out he steps. He’s younger than I imagined. Not even any gray kissing his hair. I’m not sure he’s much older than us. Maybe he has a good hair colorist and does Botox or something.He nods at us, peering over his glasses like he is actually one hundred years old. This is weird.We stood up and walked into his room. “Take a seat,” he says as he sits in his huge leather office