“Imagine my surprise when I find out he convinced you to marry him the very day you were supposed to marry me.”
“What are you talking about?”
His mouth curves into a self-satisfied smile. I feel the color drain from my face seconds before he opens his mouth again. “Holy shit. You don’t know. The bastard didn’t tell you?”
“Enough with the games. Say whatever it is you want to say so we can be done with this.”
“I was still going to marry you, if only to see the look on his face when you said I do, but something he said kept me up all night. I couldn’t go through with it.”
The ice in my veins melts, the red-hot flame of anger replacing it.
“You know, he was a mess when you moved to town. Told me to stay the fuck away from you. I took that as a challenge.”
He flips to the next page, skimming through each paragraph with his pointer finger. My stomach roils with discomfort the longer I sit here and listen to him talk. I want to leave, but I’m not a coward, and I won’t let him turn me into one.
“I met him at the bar the night before the wedding. Just one drink to calm the nerves. One drink turned into six. I asked him if he was ever going to get married and settle down. He said he’d considered it once, but he lost the chance. I should’ve let it go, but you know me. I always play to win. That’s the thing about Griffin. He’s always trying to one-up me. First, it was just the rodeo. I never could get an edge on him. He retired before I could claim his title.” Tyler scoffs, signing his name next to another tab. “So, I madea wager. We were in Vegas, after all. It all came down to one hand of blackjack.”
A pang of betrayal resounds in my chest.
He wouldn’t.
Tyler shuffles the stack of papers and then slides them into the envelope. “Anyway, I’m moving to Texas tomorrow, and you won’t ever have to see me again. Have a nice life, Angie.”
He makes it out the door without so much as a glance back, and whatever pain I thought I’d feel about that is nothing compared to the crushing news that Griffin orchestrated this whole thing. I fell for it again, just another disappointing man to add to my tally. Way to go, Angie.
Chapter 36
1295 Days
? Francesca - Hozier
Griffin
Tyler comesout of the diner with a smug smile plastered on his face. He stops across from me, lighting a cigarette. My gaze strays to Angie, who’s in the diner leaning over Jessie’s stroller. I can’t see her face to know what she’s feeling, but my gut is telling me something is wrong.
“Hope it was worth it.” Tyler exhales a long ribbon of grey smoke. “I wouldn’tbeton it, though.”
The words echo in my mind as he fades into the distance. The familiar bell above Rosie’s Diner draws my attention to my expressionless wife striding toward me. I pull open the back door, but as I’m reaching for the car seat, Angie gets there first. She wordlessly unhooks it from the stroller base and sets her in the truck without sparing me so much as a glance.
I hold open the passenger door, my mind running over a million questions, not the least of which is ‘did he sign the paperwork,’ but nothing comes out, andbefore I know it, she’s tugging the door shut on her own. I let it go and walk around to the driver’s side.
Maybe I’m worrying too much. It couldn't have been easy to see Tyler again, or to have him sign over his rights to his daughter. She’s probably having a lot of feelings about it, and she doesn’t need my insecurities adding to the stress. She’ll talk to me when she’s ready.
Before I can pull away from the curb, Rosie dashes out of the diner with two takeout boxes in hand. Angie rolls down her window and plasters on a fake smile. “I’m so sorry, Ro. I was distracted.”
“No harm done. Are you alright, dear?”
“I’m fine,” Angie says, holding out a wad of cash. “Thanks for lunch.”
Rosie shakes her head. “It’s on me. Careful getting home.”
I give her a wave and wait for her to get inside before pulling away from the curb.
The drive back to the ranch is eerily quiet, but I don’t try to fill the silence, even though my mind is begging me to say something, anything to ease the tension. I want to reach for her, at least. Against every one of my instincts, I hold back.
When we arrive at the house, I cut the engine and glance into the mirror attached to the headrest in front of Jessie. She’s fast asleep like the angel she is. Sometimes I catch myself watching her, wondering if all of this is real. It still seems too good to be true most days. I’m a lucky bastard.
“You go ahead inside,” I say. “I’ll get Jessie.”
