Confessions of a Millionaire's Mistress Read online

  ‘If you were to seek legal advice from a lawyer in that state, you would not be in violation of your court order . . . and if it happened to be the same lawyer employed by Hugh, well, that would just be a coincidence.’

  I took in every word he said, all the while desperately hoping that it might just work.

  As soon as I left the office I called Hugh’s lawyer and left him a message asking him to call me back. Three days later I still hadn’t heard from him and I was starting to get nervous. Couldn’t he see that this was urgent and that I could help with this case?

  I called Hugh on his new mobile number and asked him how I could contact his lawyer. I didn’t say why, but he knew. Less than ten minutes later the lawyer called me and immediately rubbed me up the wrong way. He advised me that he was recording the conversation, which made me very uncomfortable. He then proceeded to tell me that I was not allowed to tell him if I had been involved in a secret hearing—in fact I was not allowed to say anything. I agreed that I would avoid specifics before I began to tell my story.

  I felt like I was on trial when he began to ask me about my personal relationship with Hugh. I kept tight-lipped, refusing to say anything other than we were close friends. When he asked me if I had ever slept with Hugh, I denied it. I didn’t know why he was asking me these questions but my instinct was to play my cards close to my chest and protect Hugh, so I lied.

  When we hung up I felt no clearer about what I was going to do. I felt disconnected from myself and afraid of what the future held.

  Hugh and I couldn’t spend more than a few minutes on the phone, and I felt a distance grow between us. Every day I found myself having to search online for updates on his case, and I hated not being able to discuss it with him or see him.

  A few days later as I dressed for the day I felt that something was off. I couldn’t explain my nerves, but I found myself typing his name into the search engine. The first article that appeared sent me into a spin. As I read it my heart sank. The article stated that Hugh had been followed by paparazzi to his home the night before; the article included a photograph of his house, which I instantly recognised as the home he owned with his wife.

  My mind went into overdrive as I continued to read. The journalist had tried to contact Hugh the following morning at the same house for comment, but Hugh had advised he wouldn’t talk, because he was spending time with his family.

  I struggled to catch my breath. I couldn’t understand what he was doing back there. He was sleeping in that house? Did that mean he was back with her? Did it mean that they were never separated and he had lied?

  I was desperate to know the truth but also scared to find out the meaning behind it all. I couldn’t bring myself to ask him—I was afraid of hearing something I didn’t like, or worse, becoming needy and clingy in his eyes, everything that he despised, so instead I just beat myself up. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing him but could I really stay with a man who so obviously had gone back to his wife?

  I was so confused and yet I didn’t have the courage to find out what the hell was going on. I prepared myself for the worst: that I would have to say goodbye either way . . . it was time to accept that this was the end for Hugh and me.

  #FourteenthConfession

  #COAMMPlaylist

  ‘California King Bed’

  Arlene Zelina

  It took me a while to digest the information about Hugh being back in that house. I made my mind up that the next time I was face to face with him I would bring it up. I didn’t want to add more stress to his life with everything that was going on, but I knew I couldn’t maintain the fantasy that things were okay when they were far from it. I needed to look him in the eye and ask for the truth, and I didn’t trust myself not to just accept whatever he would say over the phone. Unless we were together I wouldn’t find the courage to ask the questions my heart needed answers to. I continued to speak with him over the phone on a regular basis and each time I bit my tongue as long as I could until I almost couldn’t bear it anymore.

  After I had spoken to his solicitor I called Hugh and relayed our conversation. I told him that if his lawyer was smart he would take my statement to the courts and fight the validity of the police interrogation not just with me but with any other witnesses. Hugh disagreed, and I didn’t fight him on it. He was the only person who could make the decisions about his defence.

  I flew down to see him around two weeks after our conversation, and as usual as soon as I stepped out of the airport I felt his presence. As I began to walk towards him I noticed a reporter in the far corner with his camera at the ready. I motioned for Hugh to stay in the car and jumped in just as the photographer began to snap away. It made me very uncomfortable, and it was just my good luck that the photos never hit the media.

  We went through our usual routine of silence during the drive to the hotel, and I went to check in while he parked the car and brought up my luggage.

  Neither of us spoke about the possibility of leaving the hotel room and we agreed to order in. I knew he was aware that something was wrong—I had barely said more than a few words to him since he had picked me up—but I still couldn’t find the courage to discuss what was going on.

  After dinner we sat in the suite in deafening silence. I felt my nerves climbing as each second passed, and I could feel the moment approaching . . . the moment that would determine my future with Hugh.

  In my haze of thoughts and distraction I didn’t notice him get up from the couch, but suddenly he was standing in front of me. He placed his right hand over mine, lifted my chin with his left hand and looked straight into my heart. I saw the pain in his eyes. I found myself holding my breath before swallowing hard to moisten the burning dryness in my throat. I was suddenly terrified, and I knew I couldn’t do it to him right then and there. I wanted to hold him, I wanted to protect him and I knew deep down I was going to regret not talking to him, but my natural instinct was to look after him, make him forget the pain of everything that was going on around him and just let him breathe easily around me. I wanted to be the rock in his life, someone he never needed to worry about. The stress of the court case was getting to him: he looked older, had lost weight and looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks. I pushed my questions to the back of my mind and decided to let it go for now.

  As he brushed his hand down my face to my neck I felt the searing desire growing in the pit of my stomach, and my breath began to hitch as his hands reached my waist and he lifted me from the sofa. He placed his knee strategically between my legs and lifted me so my legs could wrap around him.

  Neither of us broke our intense gaze and I could feel the power of his eyes burning into my soul. I blushed as the hunger and roaring passion ignited again between us, and I wrapped my arms around his neck as he walked towards the bedroom. He leaned forward and kissed me before we collapsed onto the bed.

  I opened my eyes to look at the man who haunted me. I knew it was irrational and stupid to have fallen for a married man but I found it so hard to let him go. The thought of staying with him was eating at me but the thought of leaving him was like a knife tearing my heart apart so savagely that I knew I wouldn’t survive it.

  As I looked into his eyes and stopped kissing him I knew we both understood that there were words I needed to say but couldn’t. He ran his fingers through my hair as a single tear slid down my right cheek. He placed his thumb gently under my eye to wipe away the tear, then sighed and took in a deep breath before pulling away and running his hand through his hair. He looked so torn up.

  I pulled myself up on my elbows and grabbed the back of his neck to kiss him hard, so passionately that I caught him by surprise. I felt the yearning to be with him return and I knew I couldn’t share my fears about his wife with him this time. I didn’t want him to lie to me, and in my heart I believed that he would—that was the one thing that would see me walk out the door.

  I stopped momentarily and pulled my shirt up over my head before returning to kiss him a
gain, this time so gently that I melted into the bed. Even with my eyes closed I knew his body so well. My hands trailed down his shirt, unbuttoning it as quickly as I could but it didn’t feel fast enough.

  As soon as his bare chest touched my skin I felt a surge of electricity flow from head to toe. I ran my nails down his back and my heart raced as he lifted me up and gently moved me to the head of the bed.

  He traced his finger along my cheek as he looked into my eyes. His breath was heavy against my neck and began to drive me crazy. I needed him more than ever. If only the world could have swallowed us up in that moment.

  We made love slowly and with such desire to be closer to each other that my heart ached. I wanted him and I needed him like the air that filled my lungs. Each time he entered me I could feel his love coursing through me as he refused to break his piercing gaze into my eyes. I fell harder and faster for him as we made love multiple times. Our appetite for each other was insatiable; each time either of us climaxed it never seemed enough, but by the sixth time I was spent.

  I collapsed and curled up against his chest as the pleasure of the final climax began to subside and my breathing slowed. As close as I felt to him, the insecurity began to creep through my blissful state and I knew that I needed to say something.

  I pulled myself up onto my elbow and drank in his peaceful face. He stared at me with the same look in his eyes: pure torment. I opened my mouth and before I could stop myself words began to escape.

  ‘I need to know, Hugh . . . Why are you living back in that house? Are you back with her?’

  A million things raced through my mind as he exhaled violently and shook his head.

  ‘Ava, I can’t do this right now,’ he whispered. His voice was full of shame as he climbed out of bed and quickly dressed.

  My eyes burned with tears of fury as I felt him clamming up. I was losing him.

  ‘Hugh, I really need to know. I can’t be the other woman. I can’t do this if that’s all I mean,’ I said carefully.

  He stopped to soak in my words as they echoed around us. You could have cut the tension with a knife. He turned slowly to face me, the tension high as pain flashed across his face.

  I felt so vulnerable. I pulled the sheet closer to my chest and sat up, leaning against the headboard as the tears began to sting my eyes and stain my cheeks.

  He moved towards me cautiously but I pulled away from him. This time I was the one putting up walls in self-preservation.

  He took my hand and rubbed his thumb across my knuckles.

  ‘Ava, I’m not with her. I told you where we stood. I need to be in that house, I need to be there to show a united front. It’s not common knowledge that we aren’t together, and I don’t want this case to hurt my family any more than it has to. I have my children to think about, and my wife doesn’t deserve to cop anything publicly. She’s the mother of my children. Surely you can understand that?’ He said this soothingly but I felt a bite of anger rising in his voice.

  I didn’t know what to think—Was he telling the truth?—but I knew I couldn’t be with him until the court case was over. If the case ended badly, though, what then? I forced myself to decide, and then I made myself speak.

  ‘I can’t do this anymore, Hugh. I want to be with you but I can’t be with you like this. If I can’t have all of you, then what can I have? Please don’t call me or text me. I need to learn to live without you again.’ As I felt another bout of tears welling up in my eyes I knew that I believed every word I was saying, even if it was killing me. I heard him sigh, then he paused before responding.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Ava. This is all I can give you right now. I don’t want to lose you but I don’t want to cause you any more pain.’ His words ripped my heart apart and the ache inside intensified as he began to kiss my tears away. I wrapped my arms around him ferociously and knew that I had to let him go.

  He lay with me until I fell asleep in his arms. I felt him kiss my forehead before he left and I knew that it was goodbye.

  When I woke the next morning my heart was heavy. I had no motivation to move, I just wanted to curl up into a ball and never leave the hotel room. The events of the previous night hit me like a freight train. How was I going to live without him? For just a moment I allowed the pain to take everything I had left and consume me. I cried until I couldn’t cry anymore, and fell into a deep sleep with the silent prayer that I wouldn’t wake again.

  #FifteenthConfession

  #COAMMPlaylist

  ‘Someday’

  Rob Thomas

  Over the next few weeks my life became so dull I couldn’t imagine light ever filling it again. As much as I believed I had made the right decision to leave Hugh, I also felt like I had made the biggest mistake of my life. I toyed with the idea of running to him and telling him exactly that, but I remained strong. I needed to move on if I wanted any chance of maintaining a friendship with him, which was something I had to make happen—I couldn’t give him up fully or I would crumble.

  I buried myself in my work, doing anything I could get my hands on. I was never short on things to do at work but I found myself seeking out new projects to fill any spare time I had. I knew I might be setting myself on a dangerous path that could see me burning out early on my career, but it seemed preferable to confronting the loneliness I felt without Hugh. I began to seek out new clients with globally renowned names—anyone who could be a challenge or a handful—to make sure I would always be busy. With my growing reputation, these kinds of stars seemed to come easier to me.

  We continued to talk over the next few weeks, and although the emptiness was torture for me I knew it was just as hard for him to talk to me without being able to share his feelings. Every time the conversation headed in that direction I would cut him off and abruptly end the call. I wasn’t ready to hear his excuses and I didn’t want him to lie to me. My heart couldn’t take any more and I knew that if he said everything I desperately wanted to hear I would end up exactly where I had been, with no hope of anything ever changing.

  After my court stint I had no involvement in Hugh’s case; obviously the prosecutors had realised I was telling the truth and had reluctantly returned my phone when they were unable to find any evidence that I was hiding something. As relieved as I was that I was finally able to put it all behind me, I couldn’t help but keep track of everything he was going through. I waited with bated breath each time a news alert popped up on my screen, and opened it hoping to god that the words ‘Not Guilty’ would be written somewhere within the article. With every twist and turn I found myself wanting to console him but it was no longer my place. I had made my choice and I had to be strong enough to stick to it no matter how heavily it sat on my heart.

  I couldn’t really talk to anyone in my family about my relationship with Hugh. For a long time I kept the relationship and my concerns about it to myself because I didn’t want my parents to think any less of Hugh, whom they had met at many work functions. When I first told my mother I was seeing him, she was shocked. She wasn’t bothered by the age difference between us, but she was worried about my mixing my personal life with my career.

  It was the reaction of my stepfather (whom I call Dad) that surprised my mother and I the most. I thought he might be worried by my involvement with Hugh, but instead it seemed that as long as I was happy, he was happy for me. My mother told my father about Hugh and I when I was at their house one Friday night. To my surprise, he lifted his gaze from his book and spoke only one single sentence.

  ‘I knew that they would end up together from the moment I first saw them together. It was obvious in the way he treated her.’ Then he lowered his head and continued reading his book. I was completely thrown by how sure he had been after being in our presence for such a short period of time, when my head was such a mess trying to figure out every detail, no matter how big or small, of my relationship with Hugh.

  After weeks of torturing myself and my closest friend with every detail trying to figure out where
it had all gone wrong, I got sick of hearing the sound of my own voice repeating the same sentences and finally gave up trying to find an answer.

  It was at that moment that one door closed slightly and another opened, letting a little light in and bringing David into my life.

  I had read a book he’d written about his career in the entertainment industry and various jail stints. I’d been enthralled by his colourful past and wanted to turn his book into a television series. I contacted him via Facebook, and from there we got to know each other through our messages back and forth. After a few weeks he asked to meet me, and I agreed.

  I was a little nervous to meet David. While I knew about his past and everything that he had done I still found him insanely attractive in that bad-boy way. What I didn’t expect was that he had a heart of gold and was incredibly romantic. I wasn’t looking for anything new, but I was surprised by my instant attraction to him.

  I was nervous the day I went to meet him. He had flown into town for a funeral and I agreed to meet him at the airport as he waited for his departing flight. I wasn’t sure why I felt the need to meet with David, but I was excited.

  As I walked to the terminal I heard the announcement that his flight was not far off boarding, so I hurried to the gate battling the butterflies in my stomach the whole way. I noticed him in an instant, and as he locked eyes with me and walked confidently towards me I realised just how tall and gorgeous he was.

  He quickened his pace before picking me up and swinging me around in an embrace that shot the air out of my lungs.

  ‘Hello,’ I said when he finally put me down.

  He put his hands on my shoulders and took a step back, shaking his head. ‘Wow . . . You look beautiful!’

  I felt myself blushing bright red. ‘Thank you,’ I responded reluctantly, trying to accept his compliment. I think what attracted me the most to David was the fact that he was uncomplicated, he was single, a few years younger than Hugh and seemed so open about his life when Hugh was always so closed off.