Page 34 of Right Next Door (Stone Family #3)

Nicole

I ’m not sure if the sun really is brighter and the bird chirps happier or if it’s merely my mood that makes it seem that way.

After spending the night with Ian, I feel so much calmer about my future.

I know divorce is not easy, but having him in my corner will help me overcome all the emotional hurdles that I know will be in my way.

As I flip on the lights in Chapter and Verse, I reflect on how much has changed this summer, and how even if Ian weren’t in my life, I think I still would have eventually come to the same conclusion about my marriage. There is simply no way for me to ignore the red flags anymore.

Darcy meows at my feet as I refill his food, and I remember how easily Ian agreed to me wanting more cats. Not that I plan on testing him anytime soon, but I have reason to believe that if I—somewhere down the road—brought home a few cats, he’d shrug and tell me to take off my shirt.

I unlock the front door to my store and wave to a few people meandering down the street, all the shops on Aster Street opening up on this quiet summer weekend.

The humidity is nowhere near its height, and I think we’re all enjoying the reprieve for a little while.

One of Eloise’s workers at Sweet Cheeks calls out a greeting to me, and I smile back in time to see my husband storming down the sidewalk.

Trying to act as normal as possible, I tug the sandwich board out and continue the process of opening up until he’s right in front of me.

“Where have you been?” he demands in a voice that is much too loud, and I dart my gaze around, holding my hands out in front of me.

“Keep your voice down, Bryce. It’s nine in the morning.”

“I’m not gonna keep my voice down. Tell me where you’ve been all night.”

I purposely lower my volume to a near whisper, hoping he follows suit. “I told you, I slept somewhere else.”

He shoots his arms out to his sides. “Yeah! Where?”

“Keep quiet. Everyone can hear you.”

“I don’t give a damn!”

I turn, planning on taking this conversation inside, but he stops me, slamming his hand on the door so I can’t open it.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

“Bryce!” I’ve never been afraid of him before, but this behavior is so out of character, I’m not sure what to expect, and I back into the window behind me, trying to put as much space between us as possible.

He looms above me, angry gaze raking over me from head to toe before settling on my chest. “What is that?”

I look down, tugging at the too-long sleeve of Ian’s shirt. “What?”

“That shirt. You never wear T-shirts like that.” He aims his thumb over his shoulder. “But all of a sudden, you’re sporting something from that shop?”

Caught off guard by these questions about my clothes, I don’t know how to answer. “I… Yeah.”

He must put two and two together because he takes a few steps back from me, his voice raised even louder. “So, which one are you fucking? Which one of those tattooed assholes gave you their shirt?”

My jaw drops, stunned at the viciousness in his voice. “I’m not having this conversation with you. Especially if you’re going to continue yelling at me.”

“Oh no. We’re having this conversation now. Or we can walk right next door so I can figure it out for myself.”

I pull on his arm when he makes as if to pivot. “Don’t you dare. You’re acting ridiculous. Where is all this coming from?”

“Where is this coming from?” He huffs a sarcastic sound. “Gee, I don’t know, Nicole. Could it be that I left for a month, only to come home and find out my wife has been cheating on me and wants a divorce?”

My sudden intake of breath is actually painful, and I place my hand on my chest. “I am not cheating on you.”

“What else would you call it?”

With the way he’s grilling me, lobbing question after question with that callous sneer, I have a hard time keeping this civil.

All I want to do is scream back at him, but that would make this more of a scene than it already is.

With a peek around, I notice people staring out of windows from the stores across the street, and I press my hands together.

“Please, Bryce, can we talk about this inside?”

He ignores me. “So, it’s true. You are fucking somebody else.” He spins around, throwing his arms up in the air. “You hear that, everyone? Your favorite little book lady is having an affair!”

I am not proud of myself, but I push him, my eyes stinging with tears as my whole body feels as if it’s on fire. “Stop! You need to stop right now! You’re embarrassing yourself. You’re embarrassing me!”

I hate the way my voice cracks on the last word.

I hate how he would so carelessly make the worst moment of my life public.

But he has the gall to laugh at me, taking steps backward out of the alcove in front of the door to the sidewalk. “I’m embarrassing you? Good. Because you deserve it for what you did.”

“What I did?” I wipe at my wet cheeks, failing at my attempts to drag him inside and away from prying eyes and ears.

In my peripheral, I notice people coming outside, obviously watching this all go down.

“I didn’t do anything except agree to what you wanted.

You wanted to see other people, remember? ”

He jerks his arm out of my hold, his face inches from mine, his brown eyes on fire with rage. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it. I wanted us to experiment together, not separately .”

He can’t be serious. We never discussed anything like that. Hell, he never discussed anything unless I brought it up, and he can’t suddenly pretend he meant something else.

“That’s absolutely what you said,” I tell him, my voice trembling with indignation, and while I don’t like having this fight out in the open, I’m not going to let him walk all over me.

“You asked for an open marriage, plain and simple. You said you wanted the freedom to see other people. You wanted us to experiment and explore and find what made us happy, so—” I hold up my hands, crooking my fingers in air quotes “—we could be happy. Don’t try to rewrite history now and claim you meant something different.

It’s not my fault you aren’t happy with your decision. ”

Bryce’s jaw tightens, a clear sign he knows I’m right but won’t admit it, and he glares at me for a moment while I drag him back to the bookstore’s door.

Once we get there, he plants his hands on the frame, his chest right against my back so he’s once again blocking me from opening it.

He hisses his next words, his mouth right next to my ear.

“I didn’t think you’d be fucking the first guy you ran into. Have some goddamn dignity.”

Tears stream down my face as fury boils in my veins.

He is not going to speak to me like that.

I push him with every ounce of my energy, sending him back a few feet, and then I do it again, so we’re out on the sidewalk.

Out in the open, in front of the small crowd that has gathered.

“How dare you! You don’t get to judge me or talk about dignity after the way you’ve treated me.

You checked out of this marriage a long time ago.

I won’t apologize for finally living my life the way I want. ”

Bryce’s eyes dart between me and Stone Ink and then out to the few scattered people around us, including Clara and Marianne, who jog over this way.

“You okay?” Marianne asks, and I raise my hand, knowing there is no way to save this—the marriage or my reputation. Bryce hung out our business for everyone to see, and I am utterly humiliated, but before I can answer, he butts in.

“She’s fine.”

“She’s not fine,” Clara says. “You’re screaming at her.”

“Because she’s cheating on me with one of these bastards,” he says, flinging his hand out to the tattoo shop. Then he juts his chin at me. “So, you gonna tell me which one it is you want to divorce me over?”

Before I think better of it, I point my finger at his chest, speaking through gritted teeth. “I don’t want to divorce you over Ian. I want to divorce you because you treat me like shit, like I’m dispensable, and then you blame me for finding someone who treats me better.”

He sets his hands on his hips, shaking his head like I’m some misbehaving schoolgirl. “That gray-haired one? He’s, what? Sixty? Seventy? Never took you for someone into geriatrics, but I never thought you were stupid either.”

Clara gasps, jumping up in his face. “You better watch yourself before I smack the shit out of you.”

Marianne pulls her away, her cell phone up. “Go home, Bryce. You’ve done enough damage for today.”

He puffs up his chest like he’s some tough guy, though his gaze sharpens on Marianne’s hand when she says, “I will call the police.”

He runs his tongue over his teeth, a visible war in his eyes, wanting to stay and humiliate me more or leave because of Marianne’s threat.

For a second, he seems like he might keep arguing, but he gives in with a shrug, as if it makes no difference to him.

Then he aims his last parting shot at me with a cruel smile.

“You think you can walk away from this marriage and keep your bookstore? My name is on that loan agreement. If things go south, you might lose more than just me. You’ll lose your precious store too. ”

I never thought my husband would be vindictive, but after this, I have no reason not to believe he won’t try to drag me through the mud.

Even fight me for ownership of my store.

And the risk of losing Chapter and Verse is worse than any public humiliation he could put me through.

As he walks away, I inhale a stilted breath, my body racked with a shiver despite the temperature, and Marianne loops her arm around my shoulders. “It’ll be okay.”

Clara claps twice for the attention of the gathered crowd. “All right, everyone. The wicked witch is dead. You may all go about your day.” She flaps her hands, shooing them away. “Go on and spread the word that Bryce Kelly is no longer welcome in any of our stores.”

I might laugh at her cheerful tone if not for trying to choke back a sob. Marianne ushers me inside my shop with Clara soon following, hanging the Closed sign on the door. I lift my arm, intent on telling them I can’t close, but Marianne quiets me. “You can’t work in this state.”

“You can barely breathe.” Clara gently pushes on my back. “Head between your legs. We don’t want you passing out.”

I follow her directions and work on catching my breath, slowing my heart rate while they busy themselves around me. I can’t focus on anything they’re saying, but when I sit up after a few minutes, I’m greeted with a cup of water and a box of tissues.

“You don’t have to tell us what’s going on,” Marianne starts, smoothing out my hair. “But feel free to let us know how to help.”

I blow my nose a few times. “I assume everyone heard what’s going on.”

Clara winces. “I know I can be gossipy, but I swear, Nicole, I would never say anything about what went on today. What he did was way out of line, and whatever you want us to do is what we’ll do.”

Her wife nods. “We’re on your side. No matter what.”

It’s nice to hear, but I can’t muster any desire to defend myself. So I let it all out. “I didn’t cheat on him with Ian. He asked for an open marriage earlier this summer.”

Marianne snorts. “And now he’s pissed no woman actually wanted him, while you found yourself a hot silver fox.”

“Men are trash,” Clara says on a sigh before backtracking. “Except for Ian.”

“And Griffin,” Marianne adds.

Clara points her finger up. “And Dante.”

“All Stone and Stone-related men are kept from the trash heap,” Marianne declares, and I breathe out a watery laugh that turns into full-on sobbing.

They surround me on either side, murmuring encouraging words I appreciate, but I have never felt so stripped down with mortification since college. No matter that logic tells me I didn’t do anything wrong, I feel like it.

I feel like everything Bryce accused me of being.

Selfish.

A cheater.

Stupid.

Someone unworthy of happiness.

Which is why I flinch when Marianne shows me her cell phone screen. “I think we should call Ian.”

“He’s having breakfast with his kids,” I say, not wanting to intrude on his time with them, even though it’s just an excuse.

“He won’t be upset,” Clara assures me. “In fact, I think he’ll be more upset if we don’t call him.”

They’re right, and yet Bryce’s voice lingers in my head.

Selfish.

Cheater.

Stupid.

How could Ian want anyone like me?