Page 53 of Single Mom’s Navy Seals (Claimed by the Alphas #2)

“ H e’s such a fucking prick!” I’d probably repeated that same phrase twenty-seven times as I stared at the empty duffel bag sprawled across my bed.

I sighed.

It wasn’t even my bed.

It was a guest bed that I was fortunate enough to be sleeping in instead of the fucking streets.

Because he’s such a fucking prick!

There were two airline tickets on the oak nightstand beside the bed. Two names in bold letters. Emma Stewart and Marcus Webb . But there weren’t two of us.

Just one.

Me.

The bag seemed to mock me. One small duffle. Not the luggage I’d anticipated taking.

Three days. It had been three days since I'd walked into my apartment expecting to surprise Marcus with his favorite Thai takeout, only to get the surprise of my goddamn life.

"Emma, I can explain—" he’d choked out as soon as he launched himself off my friend, Serena. Well, coworker. Not really a friend, as it turned out. "It's not what it looks like ? —"

He stood next to the couch where I’d just caught him mid-thrust.

"We didn't mean for this to happen ? —"

The worst part wasn't even catching them. It was the look on the asshole’s face. Like he was about to cry. Like it was me fucking his friend on our couch.

"Are you seriously doing this?" Riley's voice cut through my thoughts as she leaned against my bedroom doorframe, her arms crossed over her chest. Her dark hair was pulled back in a messy bun, and her eyes looked heavy with exhaustion. She’d been up all night working, and she’d been kind enough to let me crash with her for the last few days.

She wore baggy sweatpants and a long white t-shirt, and an expression that was nothing if not concerned.

I couldn’t really blame her for worrying, though.

I’d shown up at her doorstep three nights ago, sobbing.

She’d taken me under her wing with a pint of Ben & Jerry's, and we sat up crying together all night. I thought I was going to marry this man.

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea…” she said with a sigh.

I grabbed a sweater from my dresser, not meeting her eyes. "It's already paid for. Non-refundable."

"That's not why you're going, and we both know it,” she replied sternly.

She was right. She was always right.

But I wasn't ready to admit that. If I were being honest with myself, I needed to prove something to myself—that I could handle being alone, that I didn't need Marcus.

That I wasn't the pathetic woman who'd been so blind to her boyfriend's cheating that she'd actually been planning to surprise him with dinner while he was busy screwing my coworker on our couch.

"I'll be fine," I said, shoving the sweater into the bag with more force than necessary. The soft cashmere bunched up, and I knew I’d have to smooth it out before it looked like it was just blasted out of a wrinkle gun.

"It's just a long weekend. Fresh air, a little skiing, hot chocolate by the fire. I’ll be fine. "

Riley snorted, pushing off from the doorframe to sit on the edge of the guestroom bed I’d been laid up in. "Famous last words. Em, you haven't been skiing in like five years. And you're talking about going to some remote cabin in the middle of nowhere. Alone."

"I'm not helpless,” I shot back, rolling my eyes.

"I never said you were. But you're hurting, and hurt people make stupid decisions."

I wanted to argue, but she wasn't wrong about that either. I was hurt. Really hurt.

Emma, from a week or so ago, wanted to cancel the trip, demand her money back, and spend the week having a proper little pity party with her best friend. But that Emma had also been stupid enough to trust Marcus Webb with anything, much less her heart.

This Emma was different, though. This Emma was going to prove she could handle anything.

My phone vibrated on top of the nightstand. A text from my boss, Shaun.

How's the travel piece coming along? Need something fresh for the spring issue. Solo travel is hot right now.

It really was perfect. I could kill two birds with one stone—get away from the city and Marcus, because he was absolutely everywhere, and write about a solo trip to a winter wonderland. Turning my heartbreak into something productive might just be what I need.

Some therapy.

"I'm a travel writer, Riles. This is literally my job."

"Your job doesn't usually involve running away to the middle of nowhere after catching your boyfriend of two years screwing your whore of a coworker."

I groaned, a sinking feeling in my gut. I hated even thinking about it, but it was worse when someone else said it out loud.

I'd been trying not to think about the details, but they just kept on creeping back in. The way that bitch Serena’s blonde hair had been spread across my throw pillows.

The sound Marcus had made when he heard me come in.

The way he scrambled for his clothes, his dick flailing.

The way that bitch didn’t even bother to scramble for her clothes or cover herself.

Like she wanted me to see it.

I hated replaying it because the more I did, the more I wanted to strangle someone.

"Her name is Serena," I said quietly, folding a pair of jeans and placing them carefully in the bag. "And apparently, they've been finding themselves together for the past six months."

Riley's face softened. "Em..."

Oh God, I hated the pitiful look she was flashing me.

"You know what the worst part is? I actually liked her. I went to bat for her at work and had Shaun approve a story she really wanted to take on. I took the bitch under my wing and helped her with so many articles.”

"You couldn't have known."

"Couldn't I?" I growled, grabbing my toiletry bag from the side table, rifling through it.

I knew I’d likely forgotten something. I didn’t even know where half my shit was. Some of it was back at my apartment with Marcus. And some was scattered in haphazard boxes strewn all over Riley’s place.

Shampoo, conditioner, body wash, toothbrush, and birth control pills that I probably wouldn't need for a while now. "I was pretty fucking blind to all the signs.”

"What signs?"

I paused in my packing, thinking back over the last few months. "He stopped touching me as much. Started working late more often. His phone was always face down when we were together. And the sex..." I trailed off, feeling heat creep up my neck. I didn’t discuss that with anyone. Not even Riley.

"The sex what?" she asked, her brow raised, arms still crossed in front of her.

"It felt different. Like he was just going through the motions, and now that I think about it, he was thinking about someone else ."

Riley shook her head, uncrossed her arms, and pulled me into a hug, her arms wrapping around me tightly. "Honey, that's not your fault. That's his fault for being a lying, cheating piece of shit."

I breathed in her familiar vanilla perfume, letting myself be held for a moment.

Riley had been my rock since college, the one person who had never let me down.

She had been there through every breakup, every career crisis, every 2 AM panic attack.

She had been through the absolute mud with me, and right now, we were knee deep in shit.

"I just need this, okay?" I pulled back, wiping at my eyes, frustratedly. "I need to get out of here. Clear my head. Remember who the hell I am without him.”

"And you think freezing your ass off in some cabin is going to help with that?" she scoffed.

"Maybe,” I sighed. “I don't know.” I shook my head. “But I have to try something."

Riley took a deep breath, her shoulders sagging. "At least promise me you'll check in with me,” she said sternly. “And for God's sake, pay attention to the weather reports. It's supposed to snow up there pretty hard from the sounds of it.”

I smiled, rolling my eyes. "I'll be careful." I zipped up my toiletry bag and tossed it into the duffel. "Besides, what's a little snow?” I asked, half joking. “I grew up in Minnesota, remember?"

"That was years ago,” she groaned. “And that’s flat land. Not a mountain."

Maybe she was right, but I shrugged anyway. I needed to do this. Turns out, I’d grown soft. Trusting people like Marcus, for one. How stupid was that? The thought of happily ever after? That was a load of BS.

Love clearly wasn’t enough.

I was getting frazzled talking and packing. I wasn’t really good at multitasking anyway. Quickly, I grabbed my laptop bag and checked that I had everything I needed for work. Laptop, charger, notebook, pens, camera. The essentials.

Although I needed a new notebook. This was the one that Marcus had given to me last year to accompany us on our travels. That was part of the appeal of him, the fact that he wanted to travel everywhere with me. To journey alongside me. To be my partner in it all.

He shared my dreams and passions.

On paper, it was perfect.

He was good-looking. Had a good job as a photographer with a local magazine, which gave him the flexibility to go everywhere with me, and an excuse most of the time, since he could take pictures during our trips. It was everything I thought I wanted.

And now I was starting over.

So maybe this wouldn’t be a ski-bunny lovey-dovey travel like usual. This was going to be a different kind of piece. Finding Yourself in the Mountains: A Solo Winter Getaway. It practically wrote itself. Maybe it was destiny, considering Shaun said solo travel was on the rise.

"I should get going," I said, shouldering my laptop bag. "My flight leaves in three hours."

Riley walked me to the door, her expression still worried. I had to admit, it made my chest tight. She sighed heavily and turned to me in the hall. "You know you don't have anything to prove. You do know that, right?"

I sighed, too. "Maybe not to you. But I do to myself."