Page 142 of Over Time Advantage

I shake my head. “He briefly stopped by to apologize for it all going down in front of Harper, but nothing else. Nothing was said of how he spoke to me. He never even gave me the chance to explain anything.” My tear-filled eyes meet hers in the mirror. “I thought he was the one. I’m never going to have more kids. It kills me.”

“Fallon, you’re forty, not eighty. You still have time.”

“No I don’t. It’s not like I’ll be ready to meet someone else in the near future. I don’t think I believe in love anymore. There’s no one for me. And even if I did get there, my uterus will be dried up and shriveled by then.”

She briefly tucks her lips under her teeth as she continues to massage the shampoo into my dirty hair. “You have the frozen eggs, right?”

I nod. “I do.”

“Well, if and when the time comes, I’ll carry a baby for you.”

I sit up and turn around to face her. “You would do that for me?”

She nods. “I would. In a heartbeat. For you. For Harper. For our family.”

And then I start sobbing…for an hour. I don’t know why. Perhaps it’s her kindness, my heartbreak, or maybe all of it.

It’s therapeutic though. It’s like purging myself of all my demons. I exit the bath feeling ready to re-enter the land of the living. Ready to stand on my own.

JETT

There’s a late-night knock on my door. Without bothering to look through the peephole—hoping it’s a serial killer here to end my pain—I open it.

Before I can process who it is, a stiff punch to the stomach knocks the wind out of me and brings me to my knees. Looking up, I see Tanner’s angry face. He grits out, “That’s for freaking out my kid.”

He then brings his fist back up and punches me across the jaw, sending me back to the ground. “And that’s for breaking Fallon’s heart.”

I lay there on the cold ceramic tile of my foyer floor, feeling like my brain is rattling around in my head. I turn my head to look at him, checking if I need to brace for a kick to the ribs, when I see him pick up a brown bag from the ground. He then offers me his free hand. “Get up. You and I need to talk.”

I tentatively take his hand, letting him help lift me back to my feet. While adjusting my jaw to make sure it’s in place, I nod at the brown paper bag. “What’s that? A gun?”

“Whiskey,” he answers.

“Fuck. No.” I will never again in my life go near a bottle of whiskey. It’s the devil’s juice. I can’t believe I drove with that much alcohol in my system. It was only a short distance, but I’m thanking my lucky stars I didn’t hurt anyone. I will never again drink and get behind the wheel of a car. I’m grateful my daughter didn’t allow me to drive from Daylen’s house to mine.

“For me, dickhead,” he says. “I don’t care what you drink. I’m not sharing my good shit with you. You don’t deserve it. I should have brought some Natty Light for you. No real man drinks that, which makes it exactly what you deserve.”

I take in his appearance, clad in his always-present business suit. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him in anything but a suit. He’s always “on,” even at basketball games. I suppose basketball games are a business event for someone like him, but it’s still weird to always wear a suit. At least his tie is loosened now. That’s as casual as the smooth motherfucker gets.

I groan in annoyance. “What do you want, Tanner?” I bite. “We’re not friends.”

“Watch your tone, asshole. We’re going to have a chat. Strike that. There will be no chat. I’m going to talk, and you’re going to listen. Point the way and then go fetch me a fucking glass for my whiskey.”

I roll my eyes as I point toward my living room. “Go in there. I’ll be right back, sir.”

We engage in a silent stare-down. Does this jerk realize I could put him in the hospital if I wanted to?

He breaks eye contact first and turns to walk deeper into my house. For fuck’s sake. I’m not in the mood for this shit.

After securing a whiskey glass for him and a beer for me, I sit across from the pompous ass in the living room, refusing to tend to my bloody, split lip. I won’t give him the satisfaction.

“Say what you need to say, Montgomery.”

His lip twitches as he sips his whiskey. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” he barks out. “Why would you treat her like that?”

My eyes meet his. “Because she’s a cheater and a liar.”

His jaw tics. “She is neither of those things, and if you don’t want another punch to the face, I suggest you not say it again. You don’t know crap about her, Jeffries, and you most definitely don’t deserve her if you think those things.”