Page 33

Marty

“…frivolous waste of the court’s time and my client’s money.”

“I tend to agree.” The judge looks annoyed. “I’m declining the request for a temporary restraining order. I’ll see you all at the hearing in two weeks.”

Madeline smiles.

She’s a tiny pixie of a woman, with short dark hair and big dark eyes.

But she’s shrewd as hell and a veritable force of nature.

I’ve never seen anything like it.

I don’t want to think about how much this twenty minutes of her time cost me, but it’s worth every penny.

The look on Brenna’s face makes me want to laugh.

I don’t, but I want to.

I’m still so fucking pissed off at her.

“Marty, wait.” I hear her voice and slow down but don’t look back.

“You don’t have to talk to her,” Madeline says quietly.

“But I do. We share children.” I steel myself and turn around slowly.

“Can we talk?” Brenna asks.

“Now you want to talk?”

She sighs. “Philippe thought…”

“Philippe thought? What did he think?” I demand. “That breaking me up with my new girlfriend would somehow get you something?”

“He thought it might help with the custody hearing, discrediting her. And you.”

“Somehow, I find that hard to believe. Philippe has never liked kids. He was very clear about that whenever us guys who had kids talked about them, saying shit like, ‘that’s never going to be me’ or ‘better you than me.’ So don’t tell me that he’s suddenly not only had a change of heart, but he’s head over heels for kids that aren’t even his.”

Her cheeks turn red, but she lifts her chin defiantly. “He loves me. And them.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” I mutter.

“Why do you have to be right all the time?” she demands. “I mean, you don’t know him like I know him. Why can’t you accept that he’s good for me? And the kids?”

“I don’t give a fuck if he’s good for you or not,” I reply. “I just care about my kids, and I’m not going to let you keep them in Tennessee where I can only see them in the off-season.” I pause dramatically. “And let’s be clear, Bren—you know damn well you’re going to be a single mom once hockey season starts. Because he’s not going to be hands-on like I was on his days off. He’s going to rest, train, see the chiropractor, and expect you to keep the household running.”

She doesn’t respond, but her face is tight.

“My kids are going to be at the very bottom of his list of priorities…and when he realizes that they have to be yours, he’s going to dump you.”

Her face twists angrily. “This is why I left you—you’re always so mean!”

“Mean?” I stare at her. “I gave you fucking everything, Brenna. Everything. The house that cost more than we could reasonably afford. Nannies to help with the kids. Vacations. A family that?—”

“A family I never wanted!” she hisses.

“You never wanted our kids?” I ask, dumbfounded. “The babies we dreamed about making? The babies you were so excited to have when we talked about our future?”

“The first baby,” she says, tears filling her eyes. “Once I realized how hard it was, how much time they took—how each pregnancy ruined my body—I wanted to stop. Or slow down.”

“But you never said a word.”

“Because it’s what you wanted!” she cries out. “I thought I had to or you would leave me.”

“But instead, you left me.” I shake my head. “I admit I could have done things differently, probably communicated a lot better, but you’re a grown woman. You weren’t a prisoner. You should have told me how you felt instead of fucking one of my teammates and tearing apart the lives of three innocent children.”

She glares at me.

There’s pain and regret and worry in her eyes.

I know her. Not as well as I once thought, but we were together more than ten years. I know her moods and when she’s scared.

And right now, she’s scared.

It occurs to me that this is my chance.

“What will it take, Brenna?” I ask quietly, grateful for Madeline’s presence.

“For what?” Brenna asks.

“To give me custody.”

“You think…” She seems confused. “You think I want money?”

“You always want money.”

Her mouth opens.

Then she snaps it shut.

“You can’t buy your children from me.”

“I’m not. I’m asking you how much of a settlement it would take for us to agree to terms. I have full physical custody of the kids, but of course you’ll have visitation. I’m not trying to take them from you—I’m just trying to do what’s best for everyone. You didn’t like being a stay-at-home mom when you were with me… you think you’re going to like it better with Phil? Who is not going to help you with the kids. You can bluster all you want, I see the look on your face, but deep down you know I’m right.”

She doesn’t respond, merely stares at me.

I stuff my hands in my pockets and wait.

I know she’s thinking about it.

I can practically see the wheels turning.

But I can also see the hesitation.

She knows her mother will be furious.

She knows how it will look to all her friends.

She also knows I’m right about Philippe.

I’m positive they’ve already fought about it—the kids basically told me so.

“I hate you,” she says.

Then she whirls and stalks out of the courthouse.

“That went well,” Madeline chirps when she’s out of earshot.

“Did I fuck up?” I ask her.

She shakes her head. “On the contrary. You put the bug in her ear and now she’s thinking. Just wait. She’ll come up with a number. Probably after she and Phil mull it over.”

This should be good news.

Stevie’s in the clear and, if Madeline’s right, there’s a chance that Brenna will take money in exchange for custody.

Of course, there’s also a very good chance that Brenna will want more money than I can possibly come up with.

Unless I sell the house and buy something smaller. Cheaper. Maybe in a less popular neighborhood. Which I don’t want to do. If I get custody, the kids need a safe place. A place that’s comfortable and convenient, close to the arena for me and good schools for them.

How can I give them the life they deserve if I all but bankrupt myself to get rid of Brenna?

“Take today’s win,” Madeline says softly. “And let’s see what happens. Breathe, Marty. It’s going to be okay.”

“Easy for you to say,” I respond. “My entire life is in a tailspin because of her. My girlfriend dumped me because of her. My kids are thousands of miles away because of her. I’m cash poor because she wanted the most expensive house we could possibly afford. And now I’m probably going to have to cash out my investments—what I was planning to use to put the kids through college—to make her go away. Which means I’ll never fucking retire.”

Madeline nods slowly. “I understand all of that. Truly. She’s put you in a tough position. But that’s why you hired me. To make sure you don’t get taken to the cleaners. I can’t stop you from making a deal behind the scenes, something to ensure you get custody, but I can make sure she doesn’t get anything extra. Trust me. This is what I do. I’m damn good at my job. There’s a reason there’s a three-year waiting list to see me.”

“And I appreciate you stepping in like this. I owe you and Harper.”

“That feeling will pass when you get my bill,” she says, cracking a smile.

I chuckle. “I’m sure.”

“Anyway, we have two weeks until the custody hearing. Let me have someone look at your financials and I’ll come up with an official offer for Brenna. In the form of alimony or as part of the final divorce decree, whatever my money guy thinks is best. We throw in the kids as part of that deal. Maybe she’ll just sign it.”

“Don’t hold your breath but thank you.” I shake her hand and make my way out to my SUV.

I really want to call Stevie, tell her everything is okay.

But she blocked me, and if I’m honest, that hurt my feelings.

There was no reason to do that.

We’re both adults.

We could handle a breakup without completely icing each other out.

Or maybe not.

Because she asked me not to call her, and here I am thinking about doing exactly that.

Because I already miss her.

Because my bed felt gigantic last night, without her curled against my side.

Because the house was eerily quiet as I made my coffee and headed out this morning.

Because she left a bunch of toiletries in my bathroom and clothes in my closet, but I can’t bring myself to pack them up.

I don’t know if I can make things right with her, but I wish she’d at least given me a chance to try. Now that I’ve had a day to think about what she said, I know she thinks she’s protecting me, taking herself out of the equation so I have a better chance of getting custody, but I don’t need her to protect me.

I think about her the whole drive to the gym and as I’m working out. Trying to come up with a solution that will bring us back together without impacting her mental health.

Or maybe I’m just a selfish ass.

Maybe that’s why Brenna left me.

It’s always about what I want.

And this time I promised myself I would be better.

Stevie deserves better.

I step off the treadmill and dry my face.

I see a text notification and there’s a message from Gabe.

GABE: Golf tomorrow?

MARTY: Sounds good.

GABE: It’ll just be us. Everyone else is gearing up for the season. Us old guys are the only ones thinking about enjoying every last drop of summer.

MARTY: Who are you calling old?!

GABE: Us. See you tomorrow.

I laugh and am about to put the phone away when I see a bunch of notifications on social media.

Ugh.

That means I’ve been tagged somewhere.

Brenna better not be up to something.

I open the app and the first thing that pops up is a picture of Stevie.

With L’il Barracuda.

Laughing up into his face, his arm slung casually around her shoulders.

Well, I guess that tells me everything I need to know.

I can’t believe this is happening again.

She’s technically not cheating, but I can’t help but think of the last time she was out with him. Had it been as innocent as she made it seem? Was I that gullible to have believed her?

I don’t know, and I probably never will.

And it fucking hurts like hell.