chapter 1
Charlotte Williams-Jackson was about to lose her married name. Her husband of only four years wanted a divorce. The reality of that—the mere weight of the D word coming out of nowhere—hit her, once again, like a gut punch as she walked through the front door of the sprawling LA mansion he’d purchased just after they were married and saw the leather carry-on Cliff had packed in anticipation of his trip to New York. The text she’d received while she was at yoga said he wanted her out by the time he returned.
Out. Gone. But they hadn’t even been fighting!
She covered her mouth with one shaking hand as tears welled up. She’d be divorced before she turned thirty. That had to be unusual. These days, people weren’t even marrying until then. And not only would the split be painful, but it’d also be humiliating, embarrassing. Their relationship had been almost as public as that of Travis Kelce and Taylor Swift.
At least she wouldn’t be left destitute. As an NBA player who’d just negotiated a huge contract, he’d asked her to sign a prenup, but the settlement was more money than most people her age would ever have the chance to earn. Since they hadn’tbeen married long and didn’t have any kids, she’d get the minimum amount specified, but eight hundred thousand dollars was still a lot of money.
Maybe he was breaking things off because she’d been pressing him to start a family. He was probably afraid she’d go off her birth control and get pregnant even though he wasn’t ready. She wanted to believe he knew her well enough to trust she’d never try to trap him, but there were plenty of professional athletes who’d faced such a scenario or worse, and he’d heard all the horror stories.
Before he’d left their bed to sleep in one of the many guest rooms last night, he’d said he hoped she wouldn’t try to break the prenup. She’d told him she wouldn’t, and she meant it. Besides the settlement, she still had royalties coming in from her first novel, a “sports romance.” She wanted to think her book had sold over a million copies because it was justthatgood, but she knew debut authors typically didn’t see such numbers. Her success had to be largely due to her connection with Clifford, who was one of the best shooting guards in the league. Thanks to him, she’d had over a million followers on social media before she’d even been published, giving her an incredible platform.
But she hadn’t married him for his fame or his money. She’d married for love, and although her parents and friends had warned her that being the wife of a professional athlete wouldn’t be easy, she’d thought she could defy the odds. She’d never dreamed she and Cliff wouldn’t even make it to their fourth anniversary.
Numb inside, she lifted the hand that held her phone. She’d replied when he’d said he wanted her out before he got back, but he hadn’t answered. Couldn’t they talk through whatever had upset him? Go to a counselor?
She’d suggested as much last night when he’d asked for a divorce, but he’d refused, said he just didn’t want to be married anymore. When she’d pressed him for an explanation, he’dadded that he didn’t know how long his NBA career would last and he planned to enjoy these years while he could.
Apparently that meantunencumbered. But why couldn’t he enjoy playing ball while he was with her? How had she been getting in the way? Didn’t he love her enough totryto salvage what they had?
The door opened behind her, and she turned to see his driver, whom she’d passed in the driveway when she’d pulled in a minute ago.
“Mrs. Jackson.” Jeremy nodded politely, but he wouldn’t look her in the eye. She could tell he already knew that she was now persona non grata. Cliff must’ve told him he was kicking her out, which made everything she planned to say, after a morning spent reassuring herself that her husband would view things differently once he came back to himself, seem pointless.
“Have you seen Cliff?” she asked woodenly.
“No, ma’am. He called to tell me to get the car ready shortly after you left, but I haven’t seen him yet,” he replied. Then he grabbed the luggage and beat a hasty retreat.
Was there another woman? Charlotte wondered. She had a feeling Cliff had strayed a time or two. Last night, he’d insisted he hadn’t, that he simply wanted his freedom. But professional athletes—at least those at his level—were constantly faced with temptation.
A bead of sweat rolled down between her shoulder blades. It was only eleven, but LA could get warm, even in April.
Footsteps sounded above her. She looked up to see her husband striding toward one of two matching staircases that swept down to the first floor. It appeared he was leaving for his trip to New York to play the Knicks in an important play-off game sooner than expected.
When he noticed her, he stopped as if he didn’t want to confront her. She got the impression he’d been trying to getout of the house before she returned. But then he squared his shoulders and continued, jogging down the stairs.
“You’re back from yoga already?” he said.
She tried to hide the hurt, but the emotional blow he’d struck was still so fresh it was impossible. She blinked rapidly but couldn’t hold back the tears. “I’m actually home later than usual,” she said. “I wanted to give you plenty of time to sleep in. I know you have to be rested for the game.” She’d also been hoping he’d be in a better frame of mind. “So I ran a few errands after my class and stopped by my mother’s house. She hasn’t been feeling well.”
“There’s alwayssomethingwrong with her,” he said dismissively.
Surprised by this callous response, she stiffened. “Lupus is like that.”
“Maybe she’s got lupus and maybe she doesn’t. Has that really been determined?”
“That’s what the doctor told her.”
“Either way, she loves the attention being sick brings her. Every time she says she’s not feeling well you run over there, which is exactly what she’s after.”
He’d made similar comments before, but her mother would not say she wasn’t well unless it was true. Charlotte opened her mouth to defend Penny, as she always had, but the words froze in her throat. If he wasn’t going to be part of her life in the future, what did it matter?
He pulled his phone out of the pocket of his slacks and glanced at it. “Anyway, I have to go.”
She fixed her eyes on the thick gold chain hanging around his neck because she couldn’t bear to see the hardness in his eyes. “You rarely leave this early.”
“I’ve got lunch with some of the guys.”
