Scandalous/ A Jordan Knight FanFic (18+)✔️

34

Mia

As soon as the door closes behind Jordan, I cry. I cry for Cannon and his lies and for Jordan and his little boy that never got to meet his daddy. Asher would have had a great life, probably playing hockey as soon as he was able to stand on his own two feet.

I should have hugged Jordan. Should have told him I was sorry and that he wasn't alone anymore.

I need space, but I'm not going anywhere. If he still wants me, I'll be here. I'll never stop wanting to see his smile or feel his touch.

But that doesn't matter right now. Tonight, I have my own problem to worry about. And he's currently standing out front, blowing up my phone, because his keys are still sitting on the counter in the kitchen, and I already used the spare hidden outside to get in.

Cannon: Let me in, Mia.

Mia: Give me tonight, Cannon. Please. I need time to think.

Following my last text, my cell rings, and I'm dumb enough to answer. "What?" I whisper.

"Baby, please let me inside. I want to talk to you."

"I'm not alone, if that's what you're worried about." It's a lie, but I don't care. Maybe that's what I need—to hurt him like he hurt me tonight.

But that only makes him pound on the door harder. "I swear to God, if he touches you, Mia."

"You'll do what? Go fuck your boyfriend? I don't care what you do, Cannon."

His growl is torturous, and I can tell he wants to get his hands on me. He'd never hurt me, but he wants to shake some sense into all the responses I gave him. Anything to make what he's been doing seem less like cheating even though that's exactly what we've been doing to each other.

I have Jordan.

He has Evelyn and another man.

A man.

"Just leave," I tell him. "Don't make this harder than it already is."

I know he's not going to leave though, so I climb out of bed and tiptoe down the hallway. When I glance around the corner of the foyer, I see his palm pressed against the glass. If I get any closer, he'll see me, and I don't want to cave to his pleading. He needs to stay somewhere else, just like I need to crawl back into bed and think about what I'm going to do with this sham of a marriage.

"Mia, I love you," he says. "I love you so much."

"Did you love me when you were with him? Did you think about me at all, Cannon?"

"You know I did. You're always my first choice. Always."

"If you loved me as much as you say you do, you wouldn't have needed choices. There wouldn't have been a backup plan or a fallback guy. I'd have been enough. But I'm not."

"That's not what I meant," he pleads. "You're taking everything out of context. And you're the one who discovered swinging, Mia. So, what's that say about me? I'm not enough for you either."

"At least you could have admitted it," I tell him.

"I'm not denying who I am. Not anymore. But I don't want to talk about this over the phone. I need to be with you, and you'll see the truth, Mia. You'll feel it."

"I feel my heart breaking. And I see you for the liar you are. What else is there?"

It's not a question I want an answer to, so I disconnect the call and end up in the kitchen where I throw my phone on the counter. After I grab a chair from the table, I slide it over and stand on it, so I can reach the top of the liquor cabinet. I usually don't venture past wine, but tonight, I need something stronger. Something that will knock the pain from my heart and keep my mind from replaying what I saw over and over.