Page 16 of Love and Forgiveness (Rough & Ready Country #6)

Chapter Ten

IZZIE

Saying goodbye to the kids so publicly removes my excuse when Richard and the other curators and librarian come around inviting me to go out with them for happy hour at Lucky’s.

With every part of my being, I want to say no, but I also need to keep up appearances and maintain the status quo.

That’s about the only thing Wolfe has emphasized all week.

I don’t know what he’s ultimately planning to do.

Although I do know that some of the new security protocols he’s implementing, including background checks and digital badges, already have the docents up in arms. Many of the docents are older and have worked at the museum for years.

They don’t see the need for change, and it annoys them.

But I wonder if there’s more to their angst.

I also wonder if my employees will discuss it at Lucky’s tonight. Wait until I start enforcing the new artifact access protocols. This could lead to a full-on mutiny, and maybe a better idea of who’s involved in what. Hopefully, Wolfe already knows.

“I’ve got to close up shop. But I’ll meet you at Lucky’s in a few.

Why don’t you guys head over and get a table.

” Richard and Roger nod, and they lead the way for the others.

As I watch them out my office window heading towards their cars, I don’t notice any out-of-the-ordinary behavior.

I wonder what Wolfe and his crew have discovered so far.

I hear a firm knock on my office door. “Come in.”

It opens, and Rutger enters. “Good afternoon, ma’am.

” Wolfe must’ve instructed all of the guys to be polite on the job because Rutger hasn’t addressed me this way since very early on in Afghanistan when we were still professional acquaintances.

This is also the first time he’s worked security this week.

It’s hard to imagine a trained killer like him being happy working small-town museum security.

“Can I talk to you for a moment?” The blond bad boy with rugged, unshaven cheeks asks. I nod in reply, motioning for him to sit down. He shuts the door behind him.

I plop into the chair behind my desk, packing my laptop bag. I hate looking Rutger in the face. Instead, I stay busy. “Feel free to talk while I pack up.” My voice sounds rude, even though I’m going for matter-of-fact.

“The boss man wanted me to tell you he’ll be at Lucky’s tonight. Part of the plan,” Rutger says with a wink. If he notices my aloofness, it doesn’t phase him. “We’ll all be over there. And there’s been a slight shift in the narrative.”

I look up from the desk I’m now tidying. “Yes?”

“Instead of going for your typical estranged couple who are polite and indifferent to each other, we’ve decided the couple who’s still in love but won’t admit it is a better look.”

I sit back, shocked equally by the message and the messenger. Shaking my head, I’m about to speak. But he cuts me off.

“You’ve got to roll with the plan, Iz.”

Instead, I roll my eyes, glaring at him.

“May I ask you a question?” he asks.

“Shoot, Rutger.”

“Why the hell do you hate me so much? I remember a time when we used to get along just fine.”

I press my lips into a thin line, staring a hole through him. Honesty’s always the best policy, so I take a deep breath, diving right in. “I don’t like you because of how my husband, I mean soon-to-be-ex-husband, acts around you. You’re very good at bringing out the worst in him.”

He laughs. “I wish that was the case. The motherfucker’s been a stick in the mud for the past nine years.” Rutger glares at me, frowning.

“And I suppose you’re implying that’s my fault?”

“One hundred percent.”

“And you’re going to try to tell me you weren’t a bad influence on him? That he never went out partying and clubbing with you?”

He looks puzzled. “Are we talking about before he met you?”

I shake my head. How rich! I pull out my phone and find his Facebook profile under my friends. I hate doing this because the pictures disgust me, but if he wants to know. Then, I’m going to let him know.

“What are you doing?”

“Just wait a second. I’m about to make my point.

” I scroll through Rutger’s posts from this year—a string of unending debaucheries and smiling selfies.

Finally, I have to go to Wolfe’s page, which he never uses, to find the old tagged photos.

My stomach churns as I stare at the very obviously inebriated pictures of my husband with a young tan blonde on either side of him.

Arms around him in various compromising positions and his face sandwiched between their lips as each woman kisses him on the cheek.

I wouldn’t be surprised if steam were coming out of my ears. Time hasn’t healed this particular wound one bit. “Here,” I say, handing my phone to him for examination.

He laughs, nodding with a big smile, “Shit, I totally forgot about those two. The Berezovsky girls. Polish twins and flight attendants we met while clubbing in Dubai. I wonder what happened to them.”

“I don’t care. But I do rest my case.”

He shakes his head, laughing. “Is that all you’ve got?

The way you’re acting, you’d think you had a sex tape on the guy.

Besides, look at his face. He was miserable.

Never saw a bigger frown on a man getting fawned all over by smoking hot twins.

He was a total pain in the ass that night and retired early, as I remember. ”

“Do you realize you just defended him better than he ever has himself, Rutger? When I first saw those images, they made me furious. I won’t lie.

But I tried not to jump to conclusions. Instead, I confronted him about them.

And you know what Wolfe did? He shut down, refusing to answer me, and hung up.

When I brought it up again, he stonewalled me.

After that, he started talking about divorce.

He was the one to initiate it with his words, not me.

I just followed through with his suggestion, trying to pull off the band-aid quickly to avoid unnecessary pain.

” I can’t imagine going through a prolonged, excruciating divorce like my parents.

Subjecting my kids to that would kill me.

“You questioned his loyalty, Iz. That’s a big fucking deal for a man like Wolfe.”

“How could I not after seeing those pictures? What was I supposed to think? Especially after he refused to talk to me? How do you live like that? In a marriage with zero communication and the expectation of blind obedience, all founded on a giant heap of secrets? It’s not possible.”

“You’re supposed to know him better than anybody. Besides, the only reason he went out with us that night was because of how depressed he was feeling about your relationship. You guys were already on the rocks before those pictures were ever taken.”

My voice drips venom as I reply, “Yes, we were. But it wasn’t like I was out clubbing and living it up. I was busy being a single mom.”

“You knew what you were getting into, Iz.”

I shake my head, sighing in frustration.

Rutger interjects, “What did I tell you about Wolfe when we were in Afghanistan, Izzie? Do you remember?”

I laugh in exasperation. “There’s a lot you told me. What, in particular, am I supposed to remember?”

He sits back, his face deadly serious. “I warned you about all of us PMCs, made it clear to you that we were meat eaters. But what did I say about your husband? He’s a fucking apex predator.

The guy you call in to do the shit nobody else has the balls, the intestinal fortitude, or the skills to handle.

I also made it clear that you were marrying a secret squirrel.

Remember that conversation? I warned you that married life wouldn’t be a cakewalk. ”

“I was an idiot,” I reply sadly. “I thought you were warning me about his past exploits as an Army Ranger. I didn’t know you meant black ops or whatever you do now.”

“Black ops. That’s funny, Iz. You make it sound like we play Call of Duty or something.”

Again, the present tense verbs in his statement aren’t lost on me. I let out a ragged exhale. “With all due respect, I’m done with this conversation. Wolfe and I are almost divorced. That means he can fuck whomever he wants. I just want him to sign the divorce papers.”

“Some of the things that come out of your mouth. Do you know how cruel that sounds? How much it would break a dude’s heart if he were still in love with you?”

I frown. “What do you know about love, Rutger?”

He glowers at me, saying, “Look, honey, I didn’t become a player overnight.

Once upon a fucking time, I believed in love and all of that shit until I had a girl like you talk the way you’re talking now.

Sure, guys like Wolfe and I seem like big brutes—all brawn and no brains or hearts.

But fuck, girl, you’ll destroy him if you talk like that. ”

“Please,” I reply, shaking my head. Blame it all on the mean-mouthed girl. What about taking some personal responsibility?

He furrows his brow. “I’m not joking, Izzie.

You shared a life. You had children together.

He swore before God to be yours for the rest of his life, and he’s a man of his word.

You should know that better than anyone.

You were his goddamn world. You can’t just take that away from a man and expect him to feel nothing, especially when he didn’t do anything wrong. ”

“There were many problems in our marriage. It wasn’t just photos of him with blondes that did us in.”

“Yeah, but the assumptions those photos caused didn’t help anything. You still don’t believe me about the twins, do you? I have the texts to prove the only one fucking them that night was me. You want to see?”

The words I hear come out of my mouth surprise me.

“Yes, I do, Rutger.” Without hesitation, he sifts through his phone, and then I read through one of the filthiest text strings of my life.

It’s obvious both twins were with Rutger the night the Facebook photos were taken, even though there are emojis and Polish words I can’t decode smattered throughout the dialogue.

“I have videos, too. Wanna take a look?”

I feel disgusted. “No, Rutger, the last thing I want to see are your naked ass cheeks.”

He looks shocked. “I’ve never had a girl say that to me before.”

I shake my head.

“I haven’t thought about those twins in ages,” he says with a laugh, sitting back in his chair. “That was a fun night.”

“Unrepentant as always, I see.”

He shrugs. “Yeah, I’m more or less the opposite of your husband.

” He emphasizes the last word, looking at me.

“Wolfe’ll never tell you this because of his fucking ego, but he’s still not over you.

Not by a long shot. Why do you think he settled in Hollister and set up this security gig?

It wasn’t just to be close to the kids. And for the record, he has always been and remains completely faithful to you.

Although I don’t think he should, especially at this point. I’ve told him as much.”

“Oh, you have?”

He stares at me, frowning. “I mean, think about it. We’re talking nearly a year since he last had sex. That’s a helluva huge sacrifice for a woman who’s made it clear she no longer wants him. I wouldn’t do it. Fuck, I’d have trouble going one week.”

“I believe you,” I reply. “May I ask you something?”

He nods.

“The sudden switch in the narrative for tonight. The estranged couple who are still in love but won’t admit it? Was that Wolfe’s idea or yours?”

“Fuck, Izzie. You still don’t get it. It’s the only narrative anybody will believe after being in a room with you two for more than five minutes.

The looks between you two are insane. All hot and bothered, like something out of a fucking soft porn flick.

” He shakes his head. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re the best and worst thing that ever happened to my friend.

I honestly wish he’d go back to being his old pre-Izzie self.

But we both know that’s not going to happen.

And I must admit, he’s a whole lot happier with you than without you. ”

I could say the same thing. I haven’t felt truly happy for at least a year now. Still, I can’t forget who I’m talking to. “Why should I believe anything you’re telling me?”

“Honey, that line of logic goes both ways. How long have you gone without wearing your wedding band and engagement ring? In my book, that’s a sure sign you’re fucking other guys.”

I roll my eyes.

He pauses for a long moment. “Ultimately, it comes down to trust. Do you trust him? Does he trust you? I know I could never trust a woman who served me divorce papers. Especially overseas. Not that I’d ever let a relationship get that far.

But you know what I mean. That’s some devastating shit, Izzie. You’ve got to understand that.”

Pain radiates through my chest, and it feels heavy, like I can barely breathe. I stare at him, shifting uneasily in my chair. Emotion invades my voice as I observe, “Maybe you’re right. But if that’s the case, then it’s over anyway. Whether I fucked up or Wolfe did, we’re still over.”

“That’s not the takeaway I was going for.”

“What’s your takeaway then?”

“That no matter how messy your past is as a couple, and no matter what you need to do to fix it, you should probably give it a shot. You ignore the fact I knew you both in Afghanistan … before you started hooking up and for years afterwards. As the best man at your wedding, I guess it’s my place to point out the obvious—you’re both miserable apart. ”

I have no words. Instead, I sit in silence, staring at the place on my left hand where two rings should be.

Rutger stands up, thumbing over his shoulder towards Main Street.

“I’m heading over to Lucky’s. Hopefully, I’ll see you there.

Whatever you do, though, please leave the tough exterior and the harsh words here in this office.

They hurt Wolfe more than you realize. And I’m tired of picking his ass up off the floor after you leave. ”

As soon as Rutger closes the door behind him, I bury my head in my hands, sobbing. I cry for the past that’s gone and the future that never happened. I cry for what Wolfe and I once were and how far we’ve strayed from each other.

Finally, when no tears are left, I sit in silence, listening to the sound of my frantic breathing as I try to slow and calm it.

Is there ever really a too late when you’re married?

Back to the question I can’t get out of my mind.

Finally, I have my answer. There’s something I have to do before heading to Lucky’s tonight.