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“I love how noisily you come,” Declan says as he slides up my body.
I laugh, unashamed. “It’s never happened with anyone else.”
“I’m glad,” Declan says.
Chapter 25
Declan
I carry our luggage to the car after checking out of the resort. Marian has a smile from here to Timbuktu. Judy loved the resort garden, and she’s agreed to the wedding being held there. The other meetings with other vendors went well, too, and she won’t need to return to Arlen; she can do the other stuff by phone and email. I get the feeling that she’s not eager to return.
Marian opens the car trunk for me, and I stuff our luggage in. I close it, and that’s when I notice that Marian has grown still, and she’s looking at someone behind me. I whirl around and come face to face with Leonard’s bandaged, broken nose. Adrenaline kicks in. If he’s here for a fight, I’m ready to plow a fist into his face again. I flex my fingers.
“No need to get excited,” Leonard says, noticing the movements of my hands. “I’m here to speak to my wife.”
That stops me short. “You’ve got that wrong, buddy.”
A smirk comes over his features, and I itch to wipe it off with a fist, but his confidence unnerves me.
“Let me deal with this,” Marian tells me and then turns to him. “What’s this all about, Leonard?”
He leans on the car. “That’s not a very nice welcome for your husband, Marian. We shared so many years. I would think you’d want to be nice to me.”
“Spit it out, Leonard. I don’t have time for this,” she hisses.
“Okay, okay. I went down to the courthouse. I wanted a copy of our divorce certificate.” He is enjoying whatever it is he has up his sleeve.
“Seems to me that the judge made a little mistake. He never signed our divorce.”
“I don’t believe you,” she says.
“Believe what you want,” he says. “Fact remains, me and you are still married, and as far as I’m concerned, we will be for a long time.”
I take a threatening step toward him before common sense intervenes. This cannot be happening. If what Leonard says is correct, that means that Marian and I are not legally married. It means that I shouldn’t have gotten my trust fund. This is so messed up.
“All you have to do is visit or call the courthouse. You’ll see for yourself,” Leonard says.
“If what you say is true, it shouldn’t be too difficult to rectify, seeing as it was an error,” Marian says. She sounds calm and collected, not like someone who has had the shock of the century dropped on her.
“True,” Leonard says with a smirk. “But we both have to want it, and I’m not sure that I do.”
“What are you talking about, Leonard?” Marian says, her tone confident and unshaken.
I’m so fucking proud of her. Leonard is a bully. His type of person thrives when another person is cowering in fear. Marian looks him straight in the eye as she speaks, and I can see that it’s unsettling him.
“I want to try again,” he says softly. “Me and you, Marian. We were so good together.”
I curse under my breath. He’s not interested in trying it again with Marian. It’s revenge for yesterday. I’m sure he’s known about the divorce for some time, and as he said, he planned on taking care of it without necessarily involving Marian. But because I punched him, he’s decided to change the script. I curse myself for my bad temper. I should have reigned it in, but the moment I had heard the barman say his name, I went apeshit.
“Are you out of your mind?” Marian says.
“We can even try for a baby if you like. Replace the one we lost.” Leonard doesn’t realize what’s happening when a sharp slap lands on his cheek.
“You are out of your mind if you think I’d ever be married to you again,” Marian says angrily, losing her cool for the first time.
“Bitch,” Leonard says, rubbing at his cheek.
I take a step to christen his nose again when Marian pulls me back. “Let’s go. I can’t stand looking at his evil face anymore.”
We get into the car and drive off, leaving him standing there staring after us.
“I can’t believe that I’m still married to him,” Marian says, her voice distant and tinged with disbelief.
“A call to the courthouse will clear it up,” I tell her, and she fishes out her phone.
She presses some buttons, searching for the courthouse number. A few minutes later, she’s on the phone requesting details of the divorce.
“The woman said to wait,” Marian says to me. She speaks again a few minutes later. She slumps in the seat, and her voice goes down an octave. It’s not good news.
“Leonard wasn’t lying,” Marian says. She clutches her stomach. “Can you pull over? I’m going to be sick.”
