Bad Husband novel Chapter 197

The Conversation

Ava’s POV

My fingers drummed against the banister as I hovered at the top of the stairs. One more deep breath. You can do this, Aval

The living room came into view, and there she was–Sophia, curled into the corner of that ridiculous velvet sofa she loved so much. Book in hand, but her eyes hadn’t moved from the same spot for at least five minutes. She was just staring at the page, shoulders tight as a bowstring.

Well, at least she wasn’t bolting for the door. Baby steps, right?

I let my boots scuff against the hardwood–a little warning shot that I was coming. Her spine went ramrod straight, but she kept her back to me.

“Hey.” I dropped into the armchair across from her. “Think we’re overdue for a talk.”

The book snapped shut. When she finally looked up, the ice in those blue eyes–Blake’s eyes, but without the warmth- made my stomach clench. Not the look you give a friend. Not even a stranger. This was pure frost.

“Overdue?” She gave a hollow laugh, tossing her book onto the coffee table with a thud that made me wince. “Funny choice of words from someone keeping secrets.”

My fingers dug into the armrest. “What exactly did Jackson tell you?”

She shot up from the couch, pacing like she couldn’t stand being still. Her fancy slippers whispered against the floor as

she moved.

“God, you’re still playing dumb.” She raked a hand through her perfect blonde hair. “He told me everything, Ava. How you were fated mates. How nothing was ever enough for you. How the second you realized he couldn’t give you the status you wanted, you went hunting for bigger game.”

The accusation felt like ice water down my spine. My throat closed up.

That lying, manipulative… Of course he’d flip the whole damn story. Paint himself as the victim. Classic Jackson.

“You can ask literally anyone in Shadow Creek what happened,” I managed, my voice rougher than I wanted. “Everybody saw him walk away from me, not the other way around.”

Her hands balled into fists at her sides. “Then explain why my best friend never bothered mentioning she had history with my fiancé! This is my home, Ava!” A tiny crack appeared in her perfect composure. “My mother’s h And you just waltz

in and-”

“Because it hurt too much!” I stood up, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. My chest ached like I’d been running for miles. “You think I enjoyed talking about how the guy I loved for two years tossed me aside like yesterday’s trash? Told me our relationship was just a political speedbump?”

I could still see Jackson sitting across from me in that coffee shop, stirring his latte while calmly explaining that our bond was nice but inconvenient for his career path. Like he was declining a lunch invitation, not ripping my heart out.

Sophia’s eyes narrowed, blue fire sparking behind the ice. “So what was this, then? Some twisted revenge plan? Seduce my father because you couldn’t have my fiancé? My mother was a real Luna, Ava. Elegant. Respected. Born for this. And you’re

just-”

“You think I engineered this?” My laugh came out all wrong–too sharp, too brittle. “You really wanna know how your dad

and I met?”

She crossed her arms, chin lifting slightly. “Enlighten me.”

“At your engagement party.” The memory sliced through me, still razor–sharp. “At Moonlight Lodge.”

Her perfect eyebrows shot up. “You were there?”

I nodded, swallowing hard. The crystal chandeliers. The champagne that tasted like ash in my mouth. Jackson spinning you across the dance floor while I felt my world imploding.

“I watched you two dancing and nearly lost control. Started shifting right there at the bar.” I rubbed my arms, suddenly cold. “Your dad noticed. Pulled me outside. Gave me something with wolfsbane to calm my wolf down.”

“That’s how we met. Me falling apart, him stopping me from making a scene.” I watched realization flicker across her face. “If I was some power–hungry schemer, why would I show up sobbing at my ex’s engagement? Why risk exposing myself in front of half the werewolf world? This thing with your dad… it blindsided me as much as anyone.

Something shifted in Sophia’s expression–confusion cracking through the anger. She sank back onto the couch, fingers twisting together in her lap.

“But we were…” Her voice faded to almost nothing.

“We were what?” I asked, gentler now.

The dam broke.

“We were supposed to be FRIENDS!” She slammed her palm against the armrest, tears spilling over. “I trusted you, With my life! We fought our way out of that hellhole together!”

Ava!

The memory hit me like a physical blow–being chained back–to–back in that abandoned basement, Sophia’s hands finding mine in the dark. Trading whispered escape plans. Hér taking down the guard on my blind side while I handled the one

she couldn’t reach.

“I know,” I whispered, my own eyes burning. “That’s why this is killing me. I’d never betray you

phia. Never.”

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