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She ran to her open suitcase, grabbed a pair of jeans and tugged them on, skipping underwear.
“Yes. I want a divorce.”
“What?”
“I want a family. Kids! A man who can be a partner in life. You knew what I wanted all along. I’m married to the one person who can’t give me what I’ve always wanted. Now I’m stuck because I can’t marry anyone else.”
Fuck. Fuck! I ran a hand through my hair, tugged on the strands. “Wait. Where are you going?”
“Home.”
Instead of taking off her nightie, she tucked it into her jeans, then grabbed a t-shirt, threw it over her head. Dollar store flip flops went on her feet. Snagging her purse, she headed for the door, ditching her suitcase. Her hair was a mess. The t-shirt was wrinkled and thin enough that it was obvious she wasn’t wearing a bra. The only makeup on her face was smeared remains from the night before. I’d never seen her like this, and I knew her intimately, and she was leaving. Going out in public.
I was so, so fucked.
“Lindy, please. Let’s talk. I’m sorry I–”
She opened the door, glanced at me over her shoulder. “For what, exactly?”
I wasn’t sorry I married her. I wanted her to be mine. Seeing that ring on her finger was the best moment of my life. Having her smile and laugh and kiss in the back of the hired car after we said our vows… amazing.
I wasn’t sorry about the sponsorship either. I worked hard to get it and the partnership would help so many kids.
But I’d hurt her without even trying. Except I hadn’t done anything wrong. She’d been all in for getting married. She’d been the one who’d wanted to go to the strip club, where we’d had even more drinks. In the VIP section, they’d been heavy handed with the liquor and it showed since… yeah, we fucking got married.
In the middle of the night, I posted the wedding photo because Lamar had shared some images of all of us at a strip club. There hadn’t been any naked chicks or tits in the images, but it was clear we were out on the town. Wild. Either his football team didn’t give a shit what he did off season, or who the hell knew what, but I had to counter that image with something wholesome and good.
So I posted the wedding selfie. I was fiercely proud of that image, and I wanted to share it with everyone. Maybe I was a little drunk and hadn’t thought it through, but neither was Lindy. Until now.
I wasn’t sorry for showing off my new bride and the best night of my life.
“For… everything.”
She closed her eyes, a tear dripping off her chin. “Not good enough.”
Then she was gone. The door clicking shut behind her.
43
LINDY
* * *
I flew home on the first flight I could get out of Las Vegas that was headed toward Hunter Valley. I didn’t care that it flew through Salt Lake or Denver or even Seattle. I just wanted away from Dex. Away from how I felt.
Because Dex had made me feel. Way too much.
I couldn’t go back to the house. I had no idea if Theo was staying there still or the squirrel. But it would be the first place Dex would look for me.
I didn’t want to see him.
I couldn’t.
I couldn’t stay at Dex’s rental, obviously. I also didn’t want to stay at Mav’s place with Bridget because the sight of the two of them together was nauseating, and heartbreaking. Dex would go there, too. So I went to the one person who had no choice but to hide me.
Mallory.
She owed me for years of shit she put me through growing up. She couldn’t say no. And if she did, I wasn’t above blackmail. I knew she stole her parents’ car and lost her virginity in the back seat to a kid named Zak who now played jazz flute in LA. I knew lots of things.
