“Yeah,” Lawson speaks up, always needing to butt in.
“So maybe try that again,” Fox continues. “And maybe don’t fucking lie to people who consider you a brother.”
“I already have a brother. I don’t need more.”
“You have a brother?!” This is from Lawson again.
I ignore him, then take another drink, needing a moment before I try to explain to them something I can’t even explain to myself. To their credit—even Lawson’s—they wait. They give me time, letting me gather my thoughts the best I can.
I don’t know how long it has been before I finally speak, but I can tell it’s long enough, because Lawson is practically bouncing on his heels.
“I got married when I was twenty-one.”
“Shut the fuck up.”
“Quiet!” Hayes barks, and Lawson mimes zipping his lips, as if that’s ever kept him silent before.
I continue. “After being drafted by New York, I committed to playing in college in Denver, which is where I met…”
Her name dies on the tip of my tongue. Just thinking of her and how happy we were back then makes my chest ache. I reach for the chain around my neck, fingering it through my shirt. What happened to us? What happened to those kids who were so fucking in love we got married when we were barely even old enough to legally drink at our reception? Where did that go, and when did I miss their exit?
I think about my in-laws, whom I haven’t seen since my wife told me she wouldn’t be coming back from London, and I wonder if they know Chloe is here in Seattle. They always had a hold over her that I couldn’t explain, and I’d bet anything they have big feelings about it.
“Keller?”
I snap my attention to Hutch, who is staring at me with a soft, worried gaze. He’s not the only one. All the guys are looking at me in the same way—with pity.
I don’t fucking want it.
“Anyway, we got together in the second semester of freshman year, and when I finally signed a contract with New York just before my senior year, we got married. We’ve been together ever since.” I swallow the sudden lump in my throat. “Well, I guess not technically. We, uh, we separated when she went to London.”
“When?” Locke asks.
“Huh?”
“When did you separate?”
I’m not entirely sure how to answer his question. It wasn’t like it was one moment. It was a lot of little ones that led to it, and Chloe was already away when it became “official.”
“I guess it was shortly after I moved to Seattle to join the Serpents. Things were already rocky before then, but we didn’t make it official until…”
She’d already been gone for almost three months at that point, living abroad doing her internship. It happened over a phone call, one of the few we had exchanged. We always said it was because of the time zone difference, but it was an excuse to not face things head-on.
I shake away the memory, taking another long pull from my coffee before continuing. “Anyway, we’ve had little contact since then.”
“Why aren’t you divorced?”
“Dude,” Hayes hisses at Lawson with a glower. “Do you have no filter at all?”
“What?” He lifts his shoulders. “I’m just asking what everyone else is wondering.”
“It’s okay, Hayes,” I say, surprising everyone, including myself, by defending Lawson. “It’s a valid question, but I don’t have an answer.”
Or at least not one I’m willing to share. I know whyIhaven’t started the process for a divorce, but I don’t know why Chloehasn’t, especially since she’s the one who has insisted on staying away.
Fox clears his throat. “So, uh, what is she doing here in Seattle, then?”
“And who was that guy at Top Shelf last night?”
