Even if there was a way for him to make amends, I couldn’t allow it. I needed this divorce to go through so I could save my family. The only people in my life who hadn’t betrayed me. I wanted to do this for them—for Stefan and Tori, for Luka and Brooklyn, for my soon-to-be nieces and nephews. I wanted their lives to be free of the constant threat from the Russian mob. I wanted all of us to be free. I just needed Ford to cooperate.
Steeling myself, I pressed the call button.
It only rang once before he picked up. I didn’t even wait for him to speak before I started talking. This was already painful enough, and the sound of his voice might just break my heart into too many tiny pieces to cope with.
“Listen, Ford, I need you to sign the papers. It’s time,” I said in a rush, struggling to keep my voice cool and detached. “I know this is sooner than we’d planned, but it was always going to end like this. In divorce. That was always the deal. So just…let it end. You can’t fix what you’ve broken, and I don’t want you to try. The only thing I want is for you to let me go. I’m not going to change my mind. Please stop making this harder than it already is.”
I held my breath, desperate to hear him say that he would do what I’d asked.
“I have no intention of making this easy,” he said.
I tightened my grip on Munchkin, my knees going weak to hear his voice. It was so close, so clear, it almost sounded like he was in the same room.
That’s when I heard a sound behind me.
Turning slowly in my chair, I found Ford standing on the other side of the office, phone to his ear. He was here.
He’d come to New York.
Ford
Chapter 8
Icould tell Emzee was shocked to see me standing there. She was still sitting in her chair, mouth slightly open. Meanwhile, Munchkin had jumped off her lap and raced over to me. He was at my feet, looking up expectantly. At least someone was glad I was there.
“Hi,” I said to my wife. God, she was beautiful. Seeing her face was like reaching the surface after half drowning in the ocean, and getting that first oxygen-laced lungful of fresh air. I crouched down to pet our dog, trying to hide my emotion. “Hey, pup. You missed me? Yeah?”
My one-sided conversation with the dog seemed to snap Emzee back to reality. She stood up, arms crossed, narrowing her eyes at me.
“You shouldn’t have shown up here like this,” she said.
“Em—” I got to my feet, but she put a hand out, stopping me from coming any closer.
“If you don’t go, I’ll have you escorted out of the building by security,” she threatened.
“I need to talk to you.”
She was shaking her head at me, looking as pissed as I’d ever seen her. “This is completely unprofessional. God, I can’t believe you’re bringing this drama to my new job.”
“Mebring the drama?” Was she serious? I wasn’t the one who’d picked up and moved to another city to start a new job without so much as mentioning it to my spouse. If anyone had acted dramatically, it had been her—but I wasn’t going to bring that up. I was trying to win her back, not pick a fight.
“We’re not doing this, Ford. I’m calling the front desk.”
She leaned over her desk and grabbed the receiver of an office landline phone, already pushing a button on the console.
“Okay, okay. I’ll leave,” I said, backing up. “For now.”
Emzee kept the phone in her hand, watching me. “Go. I’m waiting.”
Her voice was as cold as I remembered it being the last time I’d seen her. Like I meant less than nothing to her. Which couldn’t be true—I just didn’t believe it. Not after everything we’d been through over the last seven years. Though when I found out she’d uprooted her entire life to move to New York, it had been a sobering moment. Still, I had hope.
Without another word, I turned and left.
Not that I was giving up. Far from it. Instead, I got a coffee from a little industrial style café a few doors down. Then I sat myself on a bench outside her building, which is where I was waiting when she finally walked out of the lobby a little while later. Munchkin was straining at his leash trying to get to me, and Emzee let out a frustrated sigh as the two of them came over.
“This is what’s known as stalking,” she said. “I don’t want you showing up here again, or at my apartment, or anywhere near me. I’ll get a restraining order if I have to.”
I shrugged. “I’m not signing those papers until we at least have a discussion. That’s all I’m asking. You owe me that much at least.” I searched her eyes, looking for a hint of softness, but didn’t find any.
