Chapter One

West

“Hello?” I asked, answering the door. It had been a long time since anyone rang the doorbell or knocked.

Couldn’t remember the last time, in fact.

“Hi, I’m Eric. I’ve been sent by the Energy Co-Op to tell you your bill is past due. I was supposed to knock and then hang this on your doorknob, but you got here too quickly. Here.” The young man wearing a company shirt tucked into loose-fitting jeans jutted the neon-orange door hanger out to me.

“My bill is past due?” I asked.

“Yes. And…if you don’t pay it by five this afternoon, I’m afraid your power will be shut off. Call the number on the bottom if you need assistance. Good afternoon.”

I checked my phone and then yelled out, “But it’s already four!”

Eric reached his driver’s side door and shrugged. “You still have an hour.”

Great. Just freaking great.

I slammed the door, not with any anger at the worker or the electric company but completely at myself—and a little at Emile. Not a lot. It wasn’t his fault I didn’t learn to pay the bills and balance the accounts and know everything he was doing.

Never in a million years did I think he would leave me and my life would be turned upside down.

Now would be a fantastic time for his ghost to start haunting me, and, while he was at it, he could teach me all the things that he did, that I took for granted.

Emile was the best alpha most of the time. Certainly to the outside world. He paid the bills. Took care of making phone calls and handling the business side of everything. Hell, when he passed away, I didn’t even know what car insurance company we had.

It was my fault—mostly. I let him take care of those things because he was so damned good at it. We never wanted for anything. I never had my debit card turned down, until lately. No past due notices while he was alive. Now our dining room table was piled high with them.

I sat down at the table and flipped open his laptop. His screensaver was a picture of us on our honeymoon. Those days were bliss for me, but things changed afterward. I didn’t realize how much until he was gone.

I paid the electricity bill and cursed the late fee that went along with it, thankful I had the money in the checking account to cover it. Emile had a substantial life insurance policy that went to me but, even with that, I’d struggled to keep my head above water.

The majority of the blame I laid on my own shoulders.

In an effort not to have anyone else call or knock to tell me my bills were past due, I decided to tackle the pile in front of me to the tune of some of my favorite music. I made piles. Bills that needed to be paid immediately. Bills I didn’t even recognize. Letters from insurance companies and warranties. Of course, the junk mail got chucked right into the metal trash can next to me.

It took an hour to get through the pile and, while I felt a little better that there didn’t seem to be any more fires to put out that night, I was overwhelmed.

I got up from the table to put away Emile’s laptop when I saw another envelope under the computer. It was silver and had a black wax stamp on the back.

The invitation had both of our names on the top.

You are cordially invited to the grand opening of Cuffed. Please join us for a members’ exclusive night of tours, performances, and alluring entertainment. No guests, please. Members only.

I’d almost forgotten about the club. Checking the date, I saw the opening had already happened. I probably should’ve gone and seen Emile’s friends but the truth was, it hadn’t even registered on my radar. Emile had purchased us advance memberships. He said he wanted to explore some things—spice up our lovemaking.

I had protested at the time. Nothing about our bedroom activities needed any ramping up, in my opinion. Watching others and trying out unfamiliar apparatuses wasn’t something I looked forward to, but he was excited and practically begged, so I agreed.

I stared at the invitation and moved to the file cabinet to get the document for our membership. It was one of the things I’d actually put away in the right place. My intentions were good first thing in the morning but, by the afternoon, I found my lists empty of check marks day after day. I was barely holding the business afloat. When I wasn’t working or putting out fires of my own making, I stayed in our home. In the darkness.

There were things I’d discovered about myself after Emile passed that punched me in the gut. Somewhere along the line, I’d morphed into him. I accepted less than I deserved in some areas. I listened to the same music he did. Gave up on recipes and meals that I’d once loved because he didn’t. Lost interest in working out and taking care of myself to some degree.

Even my closet was filled with sweaters and slim dress pants when I longed for a simple T-shirt and a pair of jeans.

Emile had purchased a lifetime membership for the both of us. Would I even be interested in going to a sex club as a widower? On my own?

I gulped and tucked the invitation in with the membership paperwork, intending to forget all about it again.

Without even bothering with dinner, I headed upstairs and lay in bed, shutting out the world.

Emile, my alpha, my love, was dead, but I was drowning.