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He attempted to grab her hand and she dodged him. Then sweet words came out of his mouth. At least, sweet in his eyes. All she heard was a whiny baby trying to get his way after being told no he couldn’t have any candy from the jar.
She had tried to keep everything pleasant, but when he wouldn’t stop telling her how horrible of a mistake she made marrying Brick, she walked around him and returned outside without acknowledging anything he said. This was her party and she wouldn’t stick around listening to anyone she didn’t want to. She was done catering to others. For the first time, she was going to do what she wanted and not regret it for a moment.
“We were chatting, pumpkin. What a lovely turnout we’ve had.”
Her father pulled her into his side, hugging her. He could pretend all he wanted they weren’t having a volatile conversation, but she heard Brick well enough.
Then put a leash on your wife.
What had prompted him to say that? It sounded so harsh and cruel, and Brick was neither of those things.
“I appreciate you being the peacekeeper all the time, Dad, but I don’t like it right now. Someone tell me what’s going on. Now.”
“I was welcoming Brick to the fam—”
“Your mother wants me to divorce you and offered a nice sum to do so.”
Her jaw dropped. Her father inhaled a sharp breath. Brick looked like he had stepped on a dozen Legos one after another, the pain etched into his features as if chiseled in stone.
“She would never,” her father whispered, although didn’t look at Jezebelle—or Brick—as he did.
“You can call me a liar if you’d like, but the truth is the truth. I told you, she’s not having a hard time accepting Jezebelle’s choices. She’s choosing to ignore them.”
Her father didn’t respond to Brick and stepped in front of him, his back to him, and brushed a hand down her cheek.
“I would never do something so erroneous as he suggested. I have no idea why your mother would either. I’ll take care of this. You enjoy the party.”
She sucked in a breath, forcing the tears building behind her eyes to stay hidden. “It’s hard to enjoy anything after something like that. Getting cornered by Bradley, and now this. Why does she hate me so? It’s like she’s trying to ruin my life on purpose. We came here on good faith, a nice party to say congrats, and she pulls something like this. Forget it. I don’t have to put up with it, Dad.”
“Jezebelle—”
“No. Nothing you say can make what she did any better.” She peered around her dad to see Brick looking like he was in excruciating pain. “I want to leave, Brick.”
She stepped around her dad and slid her hand into Brick’s when he started to reach for her.
“You can’t leave, Jezebelle.” Her father’s tone finally held a slight bite, as if he disapproved of her choices from the beginning and was letting some of it loose.
“I can do anything I want because I’m an adult. I make my own decisions. Like Brick said, if this party went downhill, it’s not because of us.” Not necessarily how he put it—his version was way more impolite—but she needed him to know she was on his side. His words were on the right track.
“Think about how it looks.”
“Yeah, sorry it makes you and Mom look bad. But if she can’t even show me and my husband an ounce of respect, why should I show her any?”
A shadow of pain filtered into her father’s gaze. She felt bad for a fraction of a second and then remembered what her mother had done. Offered Brick to walk away from her for money. Sickening. Absolutely disgusting.
“I’m sorry, Dad. I’m sorry she doesn’t see me for me.”
Then she tugged on Brick’s hand and they were walking away. Her father didn’t try to stop her. A few people stared as they headed for the house, but nobody said a thing. They made it to his vehicle without anyone stopping them. She hadn’t seen her mother or Bradley, although she hadn’t exactly looked around for them. Part of her wanted to let loose more of her anger toward her mother, and part of her had wanted to avoid more confrontation. Looked like she was getting her way with no more arguments.
Brick backed out of the driveway, maneuvering around a few vehicles to do so. She saw a rough patch in the grass where the tires dug it up. Feeling bad about that should’ve hit her, yet she laughed instead.
He stepped on the brake and grabbed her hand. “What’s so funny?”
She pointed at the ruined lawn.
“Oh, shit. Sorry.”
He sounded apologetic. His tone didn’t suggest he was being sarcastic or anything leaning towards rude. Because that was Brick. Sweet, nice, and always looking out for others. He might be upset, but he’d never intentionally set out to hurt someone.
