Ryan chuckled and pulled his phone from his pocket for the hundredth time. It was past noon. The mediation had to be over by now.
He’d said Aelin didn’t have to respond, and he’d meant it. But of course he hoped she would. After spending hours thenight before at the bar and at home reading up on narcissistic relationships, he’d learned three things.
First, the fact that he’d tried to jump in and shower her with affection had probably had the opposite effect of what he intended. He was glad he’d helped but didn’t know how he’d never heard the term “love bombing” before his thirties.
Second, he was going to have to prove himself. It was a shit deal that he had to make up for Clark’s actions, but for twelve years, all Aelin knew was manipulation. He was going to have to prove over and over again that what he said was true, that he wasn’t trying to get something from her or force her to be what he wanted.
Neither of those realities scared him off. He only hoped he hadn’t miffed things too badly. Because being away from her brought him to truth number three.
He wanted more than four days in a cabin at the lake.
His thumb hovered over her name in his contact list. He wanted to text her, just to check in, then read over his last text and worried he’d already been too forward. How he felt couldn’t come as a surprise. But should he have said it?
He exhaled and slid his phone back into his pocket. Maybe she didn’t wanthisbaggage. He’d been so concerned with being what she needed, the thought had never occurred to him. Once it was there in his head, it latched on with claws.
He stalked over and helped with the chairs. Polk had checked the weather religiously and was positive they weren’t in for Alberta wind or a storm. They planned to come early the next morning to touch up anything that needed tweaking.
As they were breaking down boxes and clearing the trash, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, his heart in his throat, but it wasn’t her. It was from his in-laws. He glanced up, checking on Amaya in the back with Suraj’s son and hoping they weren’t texting to cancel on the sleepover that night.
He opened the message, and his eyes narrowed. It was apicture with text he needed to zoom in on to read. When he read the first line, a wave of emotion punched him in the gut.
Final Decree of Divorce
In the Matter of the Marriage of Ryan Vargo and Kara Whitlock
Case No. 2024-D-01817
This matter came before the Court on the petition for dissolution of marriage betweenRyan VargoandKara Whitlock, who were lawfully married. The Court, having considered the evidence presented and all matters pertinent to the case, hereby orders and decrees that the marriage between the parties is legally dissolved, effective as ofAugust 17, 2024. The terms of the divorce settlement, including the division of marital assets and liabilities, child custody, and spousal support, are incorporated herein as outlined in the attached agreements.
Ryan stared at the text from his mother-in-law.
Thought you’d want to know and knew you weren’t at home. Love you, Ryan. So much. You’re a good man.
His heart twisted in his chest, a strange mix of grief and release settling over him like a blanket. Three weeks. He’d assumed he’d have to wait at least a couple of months, but Laura had handled everything beforehand. There had been nothing to assess since the psychological and medical reports were all unanimous and conclusive.
The irony didn’t escape him that it arrived that day of all days. While he stood there in the middle of a field, surrounded by wedding decorations.
Polk called out from across the back porch of Country and Jenna’s house, snapping him back to the present. “Ryan! You good?”
Ryan sniffed and pocketed his phone. “Yeah, all good. Be right there.”
They crammed the last of the boxes into the recycling bin, then piled into the bed of Polk’s truck. He drove them up the road to his parent’s place.
Ryan wasn’t especially in the mood to practice the surprise number they had planned for Country’s reception, but Polk’s energy was contagious.
“You have to see these outfits.” He opened the triple garage, jogging in like a kid on Christmas morning. It was cleaned out and swept, ready for them to desecrate it with whatever moves they had to do while wearing a buttload of pink sequins.
Polk’s eyes danced as he pulled what looked like a shimmering wrestling singlet from a box. “Everyone try them on. I got the sizes you requested, but we have to make sure they fit or I’ll be scrambling tonight.”
Tyler burst out laughing. “Where on God’s green earth did you find these?”
“I’m not giving you my sources.” Polk grinned, then tossed the leotards at the guys one by one.
Polk closed the garage door, and they all stripped down right there to their underwear and pulled on the spandex suits.
“I think I just went gay for Sean,” André crowed.
Sean flipped him off and turned, scowling. Ryan set his phone on the workbench and tossed his clothes in the corner with the rest, then tugged on the singlet. It was tight, but not uncomfortable. He laughed out loud when Polk turned, revealing glitter stars and fringe on his.
