Kathleen had almost made it away from that place, but she didn't expect the door to open behind her.
She froze. So did the person standing in the doorway.
Should she turn? Or just keep walking and pretend she hadn't seen anything?
After what felt like forever, she finally turned—
"Can I help you?"
Her lips parted in surprise. The man in the doorway wasn't Wesley. He wore a robe that hung loosely off his shoulders, exposing his chest.
It was Ryan Horton!
Ryan Horton. Popular actor and songwriter for music goddess Kissa. The same man tabloids said was dating his co-star, Kissa.
She was too stunned to speak.
"Hello?" Ryan asked again, frowning slightly. "Can I help you?"
Kath blinked herself back to reality. Why was he in room 69?
She glanced up at the brass number on the door to be sure, then down at the key card in her hand. Room 69. Both matched.
She was just about to ask if Wesley Hills was here, but before she could speak, she heard a familiar voice from inside the room.
"Ryan, is that room service?"
Kath let her eyes absentmindedly sweep into the room before looking away. She wasn't here for celeb gossip.
But wasn't Wesley Hills, according to the text, supposed to be here?
She wanted to check her phone again to see if she had misread the text, but she stopped herself.
Her fingers went numb around the key card.
Out of relief, her first signal was to, "Hahahahaha."
"Of course," she muttered. "Of course it was just a prank."
Ryan looked confused—more anxious than irritated. He thought she was some obsessed fan, and he wondered how she got in here. But when he noticed the hotel staff wheeling up their order, relief crossed his face.
Then his eyes landed on the key card she held. "Where did you get that?"
Kath glanced down. Should she say a man in a suit gave it to her? Or that a man named Mr. Red told her to come here? Even to her, it sounded absurd. She had fallen for something so stupid.
Though, if this was a prank by some loser in his mother's basement, she didn't know how this Mr. Red got access to the hotel's key card.
"My girlfriend lost her key card a few days ago," Ryan said quickly, offering a disarming smile. "Since you came to return it, let me pay you for the trouble."
So that was it. The creep must've found Kissa's card and used it to deceive her here.
Kath forced a polite smile. "I'm sorry for the confusion." She handed the card over.
"No worries," Ryan said, slipping her some cash. "Thanks for bringing it back. We were worried someone would use it to mess with us."
She accepted the money out of habit, already planning to give it to the next homeless person she saw. "Have a good night."
She turned just in time, the room service rolled up beside her. She glanced briefly at the roller containing three trays.
"Here's your order, sir. We take on-site payment now."
"Oh… my card isn't working right now—"
The elevator chimed open, and Kath stepped inside, still hearing snippets of their conversation which did little to comfort the lump in her throat.
How could she have believed a stranger's text over her own husband?
She had almost let this ruin something as fragile as the trust in her marriage.
Her phone vibrated twice in her pocket. With a sigh, she pulled it out and scowled.
She had planned to ignore, there was no point still conversing with this jobless creep but something in her wanted to say one final thing.
[Stop texting me, or I'll report you to my law enforcement contacts. Also, I returned the key card you stole.]
"Then use Mr. Hills' card,"
Kath's fingers halted mid-air.
She looked up from her phone, certain she misheard—but all she caught was a black card being handed to the room-service attendant before the elevator doors slid shut.
.
.
"Thanks," Ryan said, closing the door behind him.
"Finally. I'm starving."
Kissa sprang toward the tray, lifting the lids without hesitation. Not being on tour meant she could eat however much she wanted—then puke it out later.
"Oh—here." Ryan dangled a key card between his fingers. "I found your key card. Someone came returning it."
Kissa paused, frowning. "What? I found my key card this morning. It's been in my bag all day."
Ryan lowered his hand, staring at the card for a beat before laughing it off.
.
.
By the time Kathleen reached home, the rain had stopped, but her body still trembled as the storm inside her refused to stop.
She stood in the doorway for a long moment, staring blankly at the living room. Everything looked the same — the spotless living room, the vase of white lilies Wesley bought last week, the family photo smiling back from the wall.
It all looked normal.
Maybe that man was talking about a different Hills.
Her heart fought to cling to that tiny hope. Wesley might be strict, cold even, but he wasn't cruel.
He loved her… didn't he?
Oh, but the timing, the text, the photos...
Her knees felt weak, so she moved toward the kitchen, holding onto the counter for support.
Her reflection in the glass cabinet startled her — pale face, swollen eyes, a woman she barely recognized.
Her fingers reached for the nearest bottle.
Whiskey.
He'd once told her, "A woman drinking looks cheap, Kathleen. Don't embarrass me."
But right now, she didn't care about embarrassment.
She twisted the cap, and before she could think, she took a long gulp.
The liquid scorched her throat, burning through the ache in her chest. It hurt, but at least it was a different kind of pain — one she could control.
Another swallow. Then another.
By the third, her lips were trembling, and the sound came out before she could stop it.
Small at first, then louder.
"Why..." she sniffed. "Why am I crying? It's not like I saw anything."
"It's all... It's all just a misunderstanding... Right?"
She pressed a shaking hand against her mouth, trying to quiet herself, but the sobs kept coming. Every memory of Wesley — his smile, the promises, replayed in cruel flashes.
She didn't hear the small footsteps until a voice said softly,
"Mommy?"
Kathleen froze.
Leo stood in the doorway in his dinosaur pajamas, rubbing his eyes. Jason peeked from behind him, clutching his toy car.
"Mummy," Jason mumbled. "Why are you crying?"
She turned her face away quickly, wiping her cheeks with trembling hands. "I—I'm not, baby. Mummy's fine."
But her voice cracked at the end.
They didn't believe her, of course. Both boys ran to her, wrapping their tiny arms around her legs.
"We missed you," Leo said softly. "We didn't see you all day."
That single sentence broke something inside her.
She bent down and hugged them, holding on tighter than ever, her tears falling into their hair. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "Mommy's so sorry."
"Kitty?" a voice from the hallway called.
Erin paused when she saw the bottle on the counter and Kathleen crouched on the floor with the boys. "Oh God, Kitty…" She hurried forward. "What happened? What did you see?"