What can I do for you, Parker?
I already knew Nash would do his best to give me anything I asked for.
How did I know that? And why would he?
I couldn't give an explanation. I just knew. The same way I knew that if Nash had ever asked me for anything, I would have bent over backward to make sure he had it. But he never would. And he never did.
Nash gave. He didn't take. Another difference between him and his brother.
"I need to go to your mother's penthouse to get the rest of my things," I said in a rush, embarrassed that I hadn't been able to accomplish this simple thing. "I have everything from the house in the Hamptons, but there were a few things I left in New York. I, uh, I wouldn't bother if it was just clothes, but some of it is personal. Things I don't want to lose."
A necklace my mother gave me when I turned nine, not long before she died. A little clay kitten my sister Sterling made in school. There was also some jewelry I didn't want to abandon. I might need it. I had bills to pay, after all. Angie was wonderful, but she wasn't cheap.
"Do you want me to go over there? Pack up for you?"
"No, that won't work. I need to go myself." I didn't want to explain why over the phone. If I did, Nash might think I was crazy. "I tried last week, after Claudia mentioned Tyler was in Florida, but not long after I got there, he showed up and tried to stop me from leaving."
"What happened?" Nash asked, his voice sharp. "Why didn't you tell me you were in New York?"
I dodged the second question and answered the first. "The housekeeper was there. She offered to call security for me, and Tyler finally backed off. But I don't want to put her in that situation again. Angie's process server finally caught up with Tyler in Newport at a friend's house a few days ago. As far as I know, he's still there, but I'm uneasy about going to the penthouse by myself. Is there anyone you can recommend for security? I'd ask Griffen but–"
I stopped, too ashamed to tell Nash about the wave of humiliation that hit me every time I thought about asking my brother Griffen for help. He would. I had no doubts about that. But then, not only would Griffen know how much of an ass Tyler was, everyone he called for help would know, too.
I felt stupid enough for putting up with Tyler for so long. I couldn't stand the idea of my brother and his friends knowing I was an idiot. Nash had seen us at our worst, and what he hadn't seen for himself, he was smart enough to figure out. I didn't have anything to hide from Nash.
"I understand," he said, his voice soft.
"I just don't want him to know how weak I was," I confessed, my words almost inaudible, spilling out before I could stop them. My cheeks heated, and I was desperately glad Nash couldn't see my face.
"Parker, you've never been weak. Put that thought right out of your head."
As if it was that easy. I wish. Still, I couldn't stop myself from talking. "I keep telling myself to forget about anything I left behind and just move on. I don't want to see him again. I don't want to drag this out. I just want it to be over. I don't want to be his wife anymore, Nash."
Those words came from somewhere deep inside, raw and true. The words of my heart. Not the cool politeness I showed everyone, but my real truth. I didn't want to be Tyler's wife anymore. I wanted–
No, I couldn't go there. I couldn't put into words what I really wanted. Not yet. Maybe never.
"I don't want you to be his wife anymore either," Nash said, "and not just for my own reasons. He's already proven you're not safe with him."
Nash's words were heavy with the weight of everything between him and Tyler. As far as I knew, the last time Nash saw his brother, he'd hit him. Tyler had threatened to press charges, but according to Claudia, nothing had come of it.
My mother-in-law and I spoke often. I'd been terrified she'd hate me for divorcing Tyler. She adored her youngest son, babied him and indulged his every whim. Tyler was hers. I was only Tyler's wife.
In the years of my marriage, Claudia and I had formed a friendship that had turned out to be stronger than the weight of my dissolving marriage. When I told Claudia I was divorcing Tyler, she'd only sighed, said she was afraid it would come to this, and asked if I had a good lawyer.
I probably could have gone to her for help, but it didn't feel right to put Claudia in that position. She was disappointed in Tyler and heartbroken that our marriage had fallen apart. I wouldn't ask her to betray her son. Nash, on the other hand, didn't give a damn what Tyler thought.
When I first met with Angie, I'd felt like I was on a runaway train, everything speeding in one direction.Divorce.Such a big word. Even when I'd felt the first cracks in my marriage, I hadn't contemplated divorce. I wasn't like my father. I wasn't going to run through husbands like they were tissues.
Angie had filed for me and started the ball rolling. Tyler found a way to slam on the brakes. It had taken weeks for Angie's best process server to track him down. Tyler had hopped around the country staying with one friend, then hitching a ride in another's private plane and staying with them for a few days. Rinse and repeat. He'd been smart enough to use cash instead of Claudia's credit cards. It might have taken weeks to find him, but Angie's guy had, and the divorce papers had been officially served.
Not that Tyler had acknowledged that fact. He continued to refuse to engage his own attorney. He refused to take my calls. He refused to have anything to do with the process of getting divorced. I couldn't force him to move any faster, but I could pack up the last of my things so I never had to set foot in his home again.
"When can you get here?" Nash asked.
"I can be on a flight this afternoon," I said. "Do you have someone I can hire?"
"You don't need to hire security. I'll escort you to the penthouse."
