Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 138287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
“It isn’t that simple. Both parties must agree,” Rita stated. “Connor, are you going to sign the papers?”
He scoffed loudly. “Fuck no.”
Rita gazed at Lauren and shrugged in a way that said, Go on. Try it.
“Connor,” I began but Lauren stopped me. I waved her off and spoke to my husband. “Connor, please, sweetie. Don’t make this hard.”
But he just smiled. “Nope. Not signing. Sorry, baby.”
At my long sigh, Lauren spoke. “So, where does this leave us? My client no longer wishes to be married to Mr. Clash.”
Rita paused before stating, “Maybe you should ask your client why she filed for medical guardianship over Mr. Clash only five months ago.” Lauren turned to look at me with a curious look in her eyes but Rita continued, “Maybe you should ask her why she put him into rehab and acted as his caretaker for three solid months.”
“I did not know this.” Lauren looked miffed when she twisted to look at me. “Is this true?”
Uh oh. Something was happening here and whatever it was wasn’t good. “Well, yes. Connor was killing himself.” When her eyes told me I’d screwed up, I leaned in and muttered, “I’m sorry. I didn’t think it was relevant.”
Lauren closed her eyes, irked. “I see.”
Rita looked positively delighted.
Lauren spoke directly to Connor. “You’re not signing those papers, are you?”
Connor just grinned and shook his head slowly.
With a sigh, Lauren turned to me. “This isn’t in your favor, Emily. It’s too late for an annulment. The law is very specific in matters of marriage. You must be married for one year and one day before you file for divorce, unless, of course, both parties agree, which—” She nodded in Connor’s direction. “—is not the case.”
My frown was deep. “So, what now?
“Unfortunately—” Lauren stood, pulling her bag onto her shoulder. “—you’re stuck with him. For now.” She shot me a sympathetic smile. “Call me in six months.”
I watched my lawyer leave and when she was gone, I faced Connor. He was grinning like a loon. “I love you, Rita.”
Rita stood, and muttered, “Yeah, yeah.” She shrugged into her blazer then caught my eye. “Look, I’m not proud of myself, okay? But this asshole—” She threw her thumb across to Connor. “—he loves you. If you want a war, you’re going to get one. Regrettably, he has the dough to fund his battalion.” One pretty brow arched. “Do you?”
I had money. Not enough to go to war.
Why did it have to be a war? I was sick of combat and conflict. Why couldn’t we all just get along?
“And you.” Rita’s lips thinned and she slapped Connor across the chest with the back of her hand. “When I tell you to shut the fuck up, you shut the fuck up, Clash. Do you hear me?”
“I hear ya.” But he kept his smiling eyes on me. “I missed you.”
Rita rolled her eyes. “I’m confident you two aren’t going to kill each other so I’m leaving but you need to be out of here in ten minutes.” And then she was gone.
Connor’s smile turned wry. “I told you she was good.”
I wanted to be pissed. Why wasn’t I pissed?
“She sure is,” I uttered, slightly annoyed. A long moment passed and I looked at him. Really looked at him. We hadn’t spoken properly since the day I left him at rehab and I had a plethora of questions built up inside me. I started with something simple. “How are you doing?”
Connor knew what I meant. His face fell and he unconsciously scratched at his arm. “Every day’s a struggle.” Ugh, my heart. “I’m in therapy. I have N.A. meetings every Wednesday and they’re teaching me a lot.”
“Like what?” His voice was a balm on my soul. I missed our little talks.
“Like I’ll never really be well because the sickness is a constant compulsion. That there is no cure for addiction and I’ll have to manage the impulse for the rest of my life.”
My smile was reassuring. “You can do it. I have faith in you.”
His looked me deep in the eye as he bit his thumbnail. “Says the woman who tried to divorce me a minute ago.” The words came out soft but hit me like a baseball to the chest.
Quite abruptly, I felt lower than scum.
The truth was, I loved Connor but he not only stomped on my heart, he’d shattered the fragile trust that had been building between us.
The saying goes “Trust takes years to build, a second to break, and a lifetime to repair.”
I wanted so badly to believe he’d changed. If I had even a modicum of assurance from him, I’d take it and run with it. Because I didn’t want anyone else. It had always been Connor, from the very beginning. I just hadn’t known it at the time.
Our friendship had flourished into something unexpected for both of us and, truth be told, I didn’t blame him for being scared. Lightning fast, love had struck, and the blow hit hard.