Something in her tone set off alarm bells. Clayton left his untouched drink on the bar and followed her to a quiet corner near the back exit. What’s going on? Josie took a deep breath.
I was at Meg tonight. Latelyer was one of Eugene’s trennier wine bars, not Josie’s usual scene. Meg wanted to try it, she explained, reading his expression.
Anyway, we were there, and I saw Delaney. Clayton frowned. With Madison? Yeah.
They were supposed to have dinner. Josie’s expression tightened. Not with Madison, Clay.
With Seth McAllister. The name landed like a punch to the gut. Seth McAllister owned Apex Fitness, an upscale gym that catered to Eugene’s elite.
He was known around town for his good looks, his money, and his habit of pursuing attached women. Maybe it was business, Clayton said, though he knew how ridiculous that sounded even as the words left his mouth. Josie shook her head.
It wasn’t business. They were in a back booth. He had his hand on her thigh.
They were. She hesitated. Tell me.
They were intimate, Clay. The way they leaned in to talk. The touching.
I watched for 15 minutes before coming here. They kissed twice. Clayton felt as if the floor had dropped out from under him.
A cold, numbing sensation spread through his chest. You’re sure it was her? I’m sure. Josie confirmed gently.
I’m so sorry, Clay. Clayton nodded mechanically, processing. Part of him wanted to race to Latelier and confront them, but a deeper, more calculating part the part that had learned from his mother’s quiet strength held him back.
Did she see you? He asked. No. They were pretty absorbed in each other.
Clayton checked his watch. It was nearly nine. She told me she’d be home by eleven.
At her place. What are you going to do? He considered the question carefully. I’m going to wait, and then I’m going to have a conversation.
Josie looked worried. Do you want me to come with you? No. Clayton decided this needs to be between us.
He spent the next two hours at home, sitting in his darkened living room, turning over every interaction, every strange moment from the past few months. How did he miss the signs? Or had he simply chosen not to see them? At exactly 1115 p.m., he drove to Delaney’s downtown apartment. Her car was already in its sign spot.
Clayton sat in his truck for several minutes, gathering his thoughts, reigning in his emotions. This wasn’t going to be a scene. He wouldn’t give her the satisfaction that he used his key to enter the building and took the elevator to the third floor.
Outside her door, he paused, listening. The television was on some reality show Delaney enjoyed. He knocked.
Three firm raps. The volume lowered immediately. Footsteps approached, and then the door swung open to reveal Delaney in loungewear, her hair damp as if she’d just showered.
Clayton, her surprise seemed genuine. I thought you were working late. Finished earlier than expected, he replied, stepping past her into the apartment.
It smelled of scented candles and the expensive shampoo she used. Thought I’d surprise you. That’s sweet, she said, closing the door.
I was just about to make some tea. Want some? Clayton turned to face her. How was dinner with Madison? Something flickered in Delaney’s eyes, a momentary calculation.
Good. We went to that new Thai place on 5th. You’d hate it way too spicy.
Funny, Clayton said, his voice controlled. Josie thought she saw you at latelier night. With Seth McAllister.
The color drained from Delaney’s face, but she recovered quickly. Oh, we did stop there. For a drink after dinner.
Seth was there with some clients, and we said hello. Madison knows him from the gym. Where’s Madison now? Delaney blinked.
She went home. Obviously. Call her, Clayton challenged.
Right now. Put her on speaker. Don’t be ridiculous, Delaney snapped, crossing her arms.
I don’t have to prove anything to you. You were alone with him, Clayton stated. In a back booth.
Josie watched you kiss him. Anger flashed across Delaney’s face. Your cousin is mistaken.
Or lying. Josie doesn’t lie. Well, she’s wrong.
Delaney’s voice rose. Seth’s a friend. Yes, we had a drink.
Nothing happened. Clayton held her gaze steadily. I’m only going to ask you once, and I want you to think very carefully about your answer.
Are you having an affair with Seth McAllister? No. Delaney’s denial was vehement. I’m not cheating on you, Clayton.
You’re paranoid. Paranoid, he repeated flatly. Yes.
She stepped closer, her expression softening to concern. Seth’s a friend. You’re seeing things that aren’t there because of your trust issues.
My trust issues. Delaney reached for his hand, which he allowed, but didn’t reciprocate. I know your dad leaving messed you up, and then losing your mom so suddenly.
It’s natural to be afraid of abandonment. But I’m not going anywhere, Clay. I love you.
The manipulation was so transparent, it almost impressed him. Using his deepest wounds against him, suggesting his legitimate suspicions were just psychological damage. Seth’s a friend, she repeated, stroking his arm now.
That’s all. Your cousin misinterpreted what she saw. Clayton considered pressing further, demanding the truth.
But something in him recognized that this moment wasn’t the time. He needed more information, more proof. Okay, he said finally.
Delaney’s relief was palpable. Okay, if you say nothing’s going on, I believe you. She threw her arms around his neck, pressing her body against his.
Thank you for trusting me. I’d never hurt you, Clay. As he returned her embrace mechanically, Clayton felt something shift inside him at the hardening, a resolution.
He would find the truth, and if his suspicions were correct, there would be consequences. That night, as Delaney slept beside him in her bed, Clayton stared at the ceiling, wide awake. He believed in loyalty above all else.
It was the cornerstone of how he lived his life, being true to your word, standing by the people who mattered. If Delaney had betrayed that, there would be no second chances. But first, he needed proof, irrefutable evidence that even she couldn’t deny or explain away.
And he knew exactly how to get it. The weeks leading up to the wedding passed in a blur of preparations and pretense. Clayton maintained the facade of a trusting fiance while quietly observing patterns.
Delaney’s girl’s nights became more frequent. Her texts were guarded, always sent from across the room where he couldn’t see the screen. She’d change her phone password.