“We are eating Chinese…” I say slowly.
“Why the fuck are you eating with another man, alone?” Viking spits out.
I stand up as anger takes over me.
“I hope you aren’t implying what I think you are. It’s food,Viking. We aren’t fucking on the couch,” I snap at him.
He looks at me like I’ve slapped him. “You don’t call me Viking. You call me Maverick.”
His tone is low and full of hurt.
I let out a scoff. “I call the man I married Maverick. The man who wasn’t this asshole standing in front of me. You haven’t been Viking for months; maybe even longer.”
“What are you talking about? You call me Maverick,” he says, sounding confused.
I look towards Ice who looks like he’s about to leave.
“Sit,” I tell him.
He freezes in place and looks me in the eyes for a moment before sitting down and grabbing his plate like he’s about to enjoy a show; which, in a way, I guess he is.
“He doesn’t need to be here,” Viking hisses out.
“He’s my friend. We were hanging out before you rudely interrupted to act like you give a shit about me,” I tell him angrily.
His eyes widen at my words.
“What are you talking about? Of course, I care about you. You’re my wife,” he says, sounding pained.
I shake my head. It’s about time I said something instead of keeping quiet.Be strong. You’ve got this.
The room fills with more bikers who are looking panicked until they see Viking and me in a stand off. They look relieved that Viking isn’t beating the shit out of, or killing, Ice for having dinner with me.
“What the fuck are you thinking, man? She’s a brother’s wife!” Rock shouts at Ice accusingly.
Ice looks at all his brothers angrily because they are looking at him like he’s moving in on a brother’s wife. “I would never make a move on a brother’s wife. We are just fucking eating. I told Rage she needed a friend, and that’s all I was trying to be.”
“Everyone shut up,” Viking shouts before looking back at me. “Button…”
My heart nearly splits in two at the familiar nickname. “Don’t call me that,” I whisper, my voice cracking.
“I’m sorry,” Viking pleads with me. For the first time in almost two years, I see the man I used to know behind his eyes; but it’s a little too late for him to come back.
“You don’t get to call me that. Not after everything you have put me through. You haven’t been my Maverick for just as long as I haven’t been your Button,” I choke out.
“You don’t mean that,” Viking says with his voice cracking by the end of his statement. I look away, unable to tolerate the pain in his eyes. I still love him with everything that I am, so I hate hurting him; but I’m hurting myself even more by pretending, with every day that goes by, that I am not dying inside.
“I can’t do this anymore. I can’t walk around living my life like my heart isn’t breaking every second of the day. Like maybe if I did something different, or was able to get pregnant, that maybe you would look at me the way you used to. Maybe you would even love me again,” I say without bothering to wipe the tears that run down my cheeks.
He looks like he wants to speak, but I’m not finished yet. I put my hand up to stop him from speaking. “I heard what you said to Rage a few months ago. You were tempted by the club whores, our sex life is boring, and you hate the way I dress and look. I never thought you would be someone who would hurt me, but I felt like whatever was left of us died that night. There’s no more us.”
“I didn’t mean what I said. I was just-” he stops like he’s trying to find another lie to tell me.
“I don’t even care anymore. I want a divorce,” I say, even though it hurts to say those words I had never thought I would need to.
“We aren’t getting a divorce. You’re my wife. My Old Lady. You have my cut, and my ring on your finger,” Viking says, sounding pissed.
“This ring is nothing but a fucking leash. The cut was just another way for you to tie yourself to me, but both of those things feel like dead weight that I’m going to shed,” I say, proud of myself for keeping my voice steady.
