The look of horror that crossed Ryan's face might have been comical under different circumstances. He froze mid-thrust, his eyes widening as they locked with Miranda's. Suzanne scrambled off him with a shriek, frantically grabbing at the sheets to cover her nakedness.
"Miranda! Jesus Christ!" Ryan's face drained of color. "You're supposed to be in Chicago until tomorrow!"
Miranda leaned against the doorframe, the baseball bat tapping gently against her leg. "Clearly," she said, her voice eerily controlled despite the hurricane raging inside her. "I should have called ahead."
Suzanne clutched the sheet to her chest, mascara-streaked tears already forming in her eyes. "Miranda, I can explain—"
"Can you?" Miranda's gaze shifted to her cousin. "Can you explain why you're fucking my fiancé in our bed? I'm genuinely curious about what explanation could possibly make this okay."
Ryan scrambled into his boxers, nearly falling as he stumbled off the bed. "Baby, this isn't—it's not what you think—"
"Really?" Miranda's eyebrow arched. "Because I think I just caught my fiancé having sex with my cousin. What part am I misunderstanding?"
Suzanne sobbed, the tears ruining her perfect makeup. "It just happened! We didn't mean to hurt you!"
Miranda laughed, a hollow sound devoid of humor. "It just happened? Multiple times, apparently, since Suzanne seems familiar enough with my sex life to make comparisons." She gestured between them with the bat. "How long has this been going on?"
Ryan approached her cautiously, hands raised as if calming a wild animal. "Miranda, please put down the bat. We need to talk about this rationally."
"I'm being perfectly rational," Miranda replied, though she set the bat against the wall. "I'm simply asking how long you've been cheating on me with my cousin."
The silence that followed was damning.
"Two months," Suzanne finally whispered. "Since he moved in."
Two months. So, the entire time he'd been living here, they'd been betraying her. "So while I was working overtime to pay for our wedding, you two were what—christening every room in the house?"
Ryan reached for her. "Miranda, I love you. This was a mistake—"
Miranda stepped back, avoiding his touch. "Don't. Just don't." She surveyed the room—their room—seeing it now as tainted beyond repair. "You know what's funny? You always said you couldn't stand Suzanne. Called her shallow, slutty, attention-seeking." She looked at her cousin. "Did you know that?"
Suzanne's face crumpled. "He didn't mean it—"
"Oh, I think he did," Miranda interrupted. "Just like he meant it when he proposed to me. Just like he meant it when he said he wanted to build a life with me." She pulled the diamond engagement ring from her finger and tossed it onto the bed. "I hope you're both very happy together."
Ryan lunged forward, grabbing her wrist. "Don't do this. We can work through this. It was just sex—it didn't mean anything!"
Miranda yanked her arm free. "That's supposed to make me feel better? That you risked our entire future for meaningless sex?" She shook her head. "I don't know which is worse—that you betrayed me, or that you're stupid enough to think I'd stay after this."
"Where will you go?" Suzanne asked, a hint of concern in her voice that Miranda found almost offensive.
"Don't worry about me." Miranda straightened her shoulders. "I'll have my things out by the weekend. Until then, I suggest you both find somewhere else to stay." She turned to leave, then paused. "Oh, and Suzanne? You might want to get tested. I doubt I'm the only one he's been lying to."
She walked out, leaving them in shocked silence. The tears would come later, she knew. The grief, the rage, the devastating sense of loss. But for now, as she descended the stairs on surprisingly steady legs, Miranda felt only a cold, clear certainty.
It was over. And somehow, despite the pain piercing her heart, she would survive this.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket—a text from Nolan Shelton, no doubt with some new demand that couldn't wait until morning. For once, Miranda welcomed the distraction. Work was the one thing she could control, the one place where she knew her value.
Grabbing her briefcase, she headed for the door. She had no idea where she was going, but anywhere was better than here.