Page 9 of Meesha & Connor (What Happens In Vegas #2)

I grip the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles turn white, focusing on the road ahead to avoid looking at Meesha. Her quiet sobs fill the car, each one twisting deeper into my chest. Ten years together, and I never imagined we’d be here.

The windshield wipers beat a steady rhythm against the light drizzle, matching the pounding in my temples. Another man. She kissed another man and kept it from me for weeks. The thought repeats like a broken record, each iteration stoking the fire burning in my gut.

Tabarnac. I’ve spent my adult life believing I know this woman’s fears, dreams and the rhythm of her breathing when she sleeps. But tonight, she’s become a stranger.

As we approach a red light, the glow illuminates the interior of the car. From the corner of my eye, I see her wipe her tears with shaking hands.

“Babe, I’m so sorry,” she whispers, her voice cracking. “Please say something.”

Her makeup is smeared, eyes swollen, shoulders hunched forward. Even devastated, she’s beautiful. Even as she breaks my heart, I want to comfort her. It’s maddening.

I swallow hard against the tightness in my throat, clenching my jaw to keep the tremor from my voice. “What do you want me to say, Meesha, là? That it’s okay? That I understand?”

“No, I just—”

“Je comprends pas, là,” I say, cutting her off as the light turns green. “Ten years together, two weeks from our wedding, and you keep something like this from me?”

My phone rings through the car’s Bluetooth system, Fréd’s name appearing on the dashboard display. I press the answer button on the steering wheel.

“All??” I say.

“Connor, it’s your mother.” Fréd’s voice sounds through the speakers, tight with worry. “She fell getting out of the shower. We’re at Winter Bay Memorial now.”

My stomach drops. “Is she conscious? How bad is it?”

“She’s awake and arguing with me to return home, which is a good sign. But with her recent surgery...”

“I’m on my way.” I end the call and turn left at the next intersection.

Of course this would happen tonight, of all nights. The universe has impeccable timing.

“What’s wrong?” Meesha asks alarmed.

“Maman fell. Fréd’s taken her to the hospital,” I explain since the conversation with Fréd had been in French.

Twenty minutes later, we stride through the emergency department doors, scanning for Fréd. I spot her pacing near the nurses’ station, wearing her pajamas under her coat.

“Where is she?” I ask without preamble.

Fréd turns, relief washing over her features. “Exam room three. They’re checking her now.” She nods at Meesha.

“What happened exactly?” Meesha asks.

“She slipped coming out of the shower. I heard the noise and see her on the bathroom floor.” Fréd twirls her disheveled hair. “She say she fine, but I don’t take chance. Her hip replacement still healing.”

A doctor emerges from the exam room, clipboard in hand. “Family of Vivienne Beauregard?”

“That’s us,” I say, stepping forward. “I’m her son.”

“Your mother is going to be fine, Mr. Beauregard. No fractures or serious injuries. Just some bruising on her left side.” He gives a small smile. “She’s quite... vocal about wanting to go home.”

Relief floods through me. “Can we see her?”

He nods. “Yes. But please reinforce that she needs to use her shower chair.”

I shake my head, mentally kicking myself. “I’ll get one installed immediately.”

“Please do. Falls are the number one complication after hip replacements,” he says with professional seriousness. “We’re lucky it wasn’t worse.”

Inside the room, Maman sits perched on the exam table, looking annoyed and embarrassed in a hospital gown.

“This is ridiculous,” she huffs when she sees me. “I told Frédérique I’m perfectly fine.”

“You could have re-injured your hip, Maman.” I squeeze her hand. “You scared us.”

Her expression softens. “I’m sorry, my son.” She glances toward the door. “Is Meesha here?”

“In the waiting area,” I confirm.

Maman presses her lips together. “I appreciate her concern, but I don’t want her seeing me like this. It’s undignified enough having Frédérique witness my fall.”

I don’t push the issue, knowing her pride. As the nurse returns with the discharge papers, I make a mental note to call my contractor first thing tomorrow about installing shower bars and a chair. Another crisis narrowly averted, even as my personal life remains in shambles.

An hour later, after a silent drive, Meesha and I finally make it to the rental house. I park but don’t immediately move to exit the car. Rain patters against the roof as we sit in suspended animation.

Finally, I turn off the engine and step out. The cold air hits my lungs as I walk to the front door, not looking back to see if she follows. Inside, I flip on the lights and move to the kitchen, bracing my hands against the counter.

Her footsteps are hesitant behind me. “Connor, please look at me.”

I turn, maintaining careful control of my expression. “I’m listening, là.”

“It was a stupid mistake. I’ve regretted it every day since.”

“Why, Meesha?”

She steps forward cautiously. “It meant nothing.”

“That’s not what I asked. I want to know why it happened at all. étais-tu saoule? Were you drunk?”

She shakes her head. “No. I wasn’t.”

My fingers curl into fists at my sides before I relax them. “So you made a conscious choice to kiss him, c’est ca?”

“I was confused, Connor. Scared about getting married.”

“And instead of talking to me, your man of ten years, you kissed a stranger?” I move past her to the living room, needing space.

“You’ve always been so certain about us.” Her voice trembles. “You’ve never questioned our future, not once. I was afraid of seeming ungrateful or making you doubt what we have.”

I fight to keep my voice level. “So you thought kissing someone else was the solution? Mon Dieu, Meesha, j’comprends pas. I thought we shared everything.”

“We do! This was one moment of weakness—”

“C’était juste un baiser? Was it just a kiss?” My voice remains steady while my mind floods with images I immediately try to banish.

Her eyes widen. “Yes! Of course, it was just a kiss.”

“Then tell me exactly what happened. No vague explanations. I want the truth.”

Meesha wraps her arms around herself. “We talked at the bar for a while. He was charming and—”

“And what? Handsome? Exciting? Not predictable like me?” Pain fuels my words.

“That’s not fair,” she whispers.

“Neither is lying to me for weeks, calisse. So, finish the story. You talked, and then?”

She stares at the floor. “He kissed me, and for a moment... I kissed him back.”

“Pour combien de temps? For how long??” The question sounds petty even to my ears, but I need to know.

“Connor—”

“How. Long?”

She swallows hard. “A few seconds. Maybe thirty before I pulled away.”

“T’as aimé ca? Did you enjoy it?”

“No! I felt horrible immediately. When he kissed me again, I ran away from him.”

I laugh without humor. “Voyons donc! So there wasn’t just one moment of weakness but two?”

“No, Connor, it wasn’t like that! It was all within the same minute. I pulled back after the first kiss, confused and shocked, and he leaned in again before I could even process what was happening. That’s when I pushed him away completely and left.”

Ben là, I stare at her for a long moment. “Where were his hands, Meesha?”

“His hands?” She looks startled by the question.

“Yes. His hands.”

“During the first kiss, one was on my waist...” she pauses, swallowing hard. “The other moved to the back of my neck.” She looks away briefly. “When he kissed me the second time, I think both his hands were on my face before I pushed against his chest to get away.”

“So it wasn’t just a quick peck. He held you.”

“Connor, please. It was a horrible mistake that meant nothing.”

“Yet somehow he found you in Winter Bay. Found me. And you still said nothing.”

“I was trying to protect what we have!”

“You weren’t protecting us, Meesha. You were protecting yourself. This wasn’t about a kiss. This was about you having doubts about marrying me and being too afraid to say it.”

Her face crumples. “That’s not true. I love you. I want to marry you.”

“But you had to test the water first? See if the grass was greener?” My voice rises despite my efforts. “What else haven’t you told me? What other ‘moments of weakness’ am I going to discover?”

“Nothing! There’s nothing else.”

“How can I believe that now?” I move toward the bedroom, needing distance before I say something unforgivable.

“Ten years, Meesha. We’ve been dating for a decade.

I’ve held your hand through every crisis, celebrated every victory.

We’re planning a life together, and you needed to see if there was something better out there. ”

“It wasn’t about better,” she pleads. “It was about different. About being sure.”

“And are you? Sure now?”

“Yes! God, yes. The moment it happened, I knew I’d made a terrible mistake.”

I laugh without humor. “How convenient that your certainty arrived after testing the waters.”

“Baby, please. I love you.”

“I’ve given you ten years of absolute fidelity and honesty. I deserved the same respect.”

The worst part is how much I still love her, even as anger and hurt burn through me. Even now, looking at her tear-stained face, I want to pull her into my arms and tell her we’ll get through this. But the trust between us has fractured, and I don’t know if I can put it back together.

“I need some time,” I say, my voice finally betraying my exhaustion. What I don’t say is I need you. I need this not to be happening. I need the last hours of my life back. “We both do.”

I move toward the hall closet and grab my leather jacket for the next day.

“Connor?” Meesha’s voice rises. “What are you doing?”

I move toward the door, grabbing my keys from the hook on the wall. “I need space to think,” I say, pocketing my keys.

She reaches for my arm. “Don’t leave. We can talk this through. Please stay.”

I step back, creating distance between us. “I’ll be at my house.”

Her eyes widen. “With your mother and Frédérique?”

“Oui, it’s still my house.”

“Connor, that’s—” She stops herself, a fresh wave of tears spilling down her cheeks. “Please don’t go there. Drop me off at home, and you can have this place to yourself if you want space.”

“Pas question. I need familiar walls right now.” I reach for the doorknob.

“But your ex-girlfriend is there!” Her voice breaks on the words. “How is that better than staying here with me?”

“The difference is I’ve proven to be the most trustworthy of us.”

Her eyes flash with anger through her tears. “Trustworthy? You want to talk about trustworthy?” She crosses her arms tightly across her chest. “Fréd mentioned you were trapped at your house with them during the entire blizzard. For almost ten days.”

I freeze, my hand still on the doorknob.

“You told me you were here the whole time,” she continues, her voice shaking. “You texted me every day, talking about what you were doing here, how you missed me. But you were with her the entire time.”

I turn slowly to face her. “That’s different.”

“Is it?” Her laugh is bitter. “You lied to me for days, Connor. You made a conscious choice to deceive me.”

“I didn’t want you to worry—”

“You didn’t want me to know you were living with your ex!”

I meet her gaze steadily. “The difference is I didn’t cheat on you, Meesha. I didn’t kiss Frédérique. I didn’t touch her. I slept in my bedroom and finalized the details and payments for our wedding while counting the hours until I could see you again.”

“But you still lied.” Her voice drops to a whisper.

“You misled me about where you were and who you were with. And now you’re holding my mistake over my head like it erases your deception.

” She shakes her head. “I’m not saying what I did wasn’t wrong.

It was. But it hurts that you think your lie somehow doesn’t count just because you didn’t kiss her. ”

I don’t deny it. “I’m sorry about that. I should have been honest with you from the beginning about where I was during the storm.

That was wrong of me, and I failed you there, Meesha.

I know that.” I pause, choosing my next words carefully.

“But I need you to understand there’s a difference between me being trapped in my own house with my ex due to a blizzard—where nothing happened between us—and you consciously choosing to kiss another man.

Both were breaches of trust, but they’re not the same. ”

Meesha’s shoulders collapse inward. “I made one mistake. One. After ten years of loving you.”

“A mistake you hid for weeks while I planned our future.” I open the door. “While I ensured our new house was to your standards and booked our honeymoon, all the time thinking we were solid.”

“We are solid! Connor, please. If you walk out that door...”

“Quoi?” I turn to her, finally letting some of my pain show. “You’ll what, Meesha? Kiss someone else?”

She flinches. “That’s not fair.”

“?a fait mal en crisse. None of this is fair.” I step outside, the cold rain immediately soaking through my jacket.

“Connor!” Her voice rises desperately behind me. “I love you! Please don’t go!”

I pause for just a moment, raindrops sliding down my face like the tears I refuse to shed. Without turning around, I say quietly, “Barre la porte. Lock the door behind me.”

The sound of her sobbing follows me to my car. As I finally pull away from the curb, rain begins to fall harder, matching the storm inside me.

En tout cas. Ten years of certainty shattered in a single night.