Page 101 of Almost Beautiful (Beautiful 3)

He ran his hand over his buzzed hair. “You won’t. I lied to you. You told the Feds what you thought you knew. No one will know any different.”

“The reporters will!”

“They’re too scared to talk. Nothing changes who you are or who you know. I’ll make sure they’re reminded.”

He let me go only to interweave his fingers with mine. “C’mon. We need to get you packed.”

I slapped his hand away. “No! We’re going to cancel our wedding and get an annulment instead? And you expect me to keep going to school here—everyone talking about how you went to prison but divorced me, first? You expect me to stick around when every fucking thing will remind me of you?No!”

“Pigeon …”

I held my middle, my eyes burning, my throat feeling tight. I was in a full-blown panic. All this time, and through everything, Travis had only fought for me. He’d never once walked away, until now.

“I’ve never loved anything as much as I love being your wife. You can’t take that away from me, Travis Maddox. You can’t make me fall in love with you, make me feel happier than I have in mywholelife, and then take it away. Even if I have to spend some time behind bars, it won’t be that long, and I know one of these days you’ll be out, and we can pick up where we left off. But at least,” my face crumbled, “I still get to be your wife.”

A single tear welled up in his eyes and spilled over onto his cheek, quickly falling to his jawline and then staining his shirt. He reached out with one hand, touching his palm to my cheek. “I won’t be able to bear the thought of you in there. The only way I can get through this is if I know you’re free and happy.”

I shook my head. “I won’t be happy.”

“But you’ll be safe.”

I couldn’t hold in the tears any longer. I wept, my chest caving in with each sob, leaning my face against his hand. I was sure there were words I should be saying, but they were lost somewhere deep beneath the pain and betrayal I felt. I wiped my cheeks and then looked down, seeing the key fob sticking out of Travis’s jeans pocket.

“You’ve made me promise over and over that I won’t leave, just to kick me out and divorce me?”

“Don’t say it like that.”

“That’s exactly what this is.” Before Travis could react, I snatched the keys. “Pack it your fucking self.”

“Pidge!” he called after me.

I made a beeline for the car, jogging the last ten steps or so, and locking the door as soon as I slid behind the wheel. I turned the key just as Travis arrived at my window.

He tapped on the glass with his palm in a panic. “You’re upset, I don’t want you driving.”

I backed away from the curb, but Travis stayed at my door, banging on the glass.

“Pigeon, my bike keys are on that keychain. I can’t … Pidge! God dammit!” He yelled as I pulled away.

From the rearview mirror, I could see him standing under the parking lot lights, his hands on his head.

I drove around for an hour, wiping my eyes so often the tender skin beneath them began to feel raw. America was out of town, so there was only one other person I could go to.

The blinker was the only sound in the car as I took the next exit and turned around, going back the way I came. Finch’s apartment was halfway between where I was and home. I could be there in ten or fifteen minutes. I pressed the button on the steering wheel and then directed my phone to call Finch.

His phone rang over my speakers, and just when I thought he might not pick up, he answered. “Hey, betch.”

“Are you home?” I said, sniffing.

“Oh, myGawd! Yes! Yes, get your ass over here!”

He hung up on me, and I couldn’t help but smile. He didn’t even ask me what was wrong or where I was. He knew what I needed without knowing what I needed, like every best friend should.

I pulled into his apartment complex and parked.

Before I could get out, Finch stepped out onto his stoop, wearing only boxer briefs and an open robe. A cigarette hung from his lips as he waited for me, arms wide open. No matter how quickly my world was ending, it was difficult not to smile at the sight of him.

“Baby!” he said, hugging me as I reached the top of the stairs. He leaned back, taking a drag from his cigarette and then blowing the smoke to the side of me. His bottom lip jutted out. “Do not tell me what I think you’re going to tell me.”