Page 321 of The Havenport Collection

Maeve

I was walking on clouds. My heart was dancing. And my mind…well, it was full of rainbows and glitter and heart-eyes for the sexy man currently holding my hand as we weaved through the crowd.

Because I was done for. Despite all my cynicism and rage, Oliver had broken through my hard shell, and I had fallen for this sweet and dirty police officer.

Yes, the orgasms were great. And him fulfilling one of my deepest fantasies, OMG even better. But the laughter, the snuggles, and the feeling of contentment and affection were so much more than I could have ever imagined.

We were walking together while searching for my sisters, trying not to look like we had just fucked on a rooftop. We had been gone a while, and I knew they would suspect something.

I kept sneaking glances at Oliver, who wore a huge grin. “Stop,” I hissed. “Be cool.”

He leaned down and kissed my temple. “Couldn’t be if I tried, babe. I’m too happy right now. Who cares if people know we are crazy about each other?”

I elbowed him in the ribs. “That’s not what I’m worried about. Fix your hair; Alice may seem harmless but she is a hawk, and she will know what we were doing.”

Oliver fussed with his messy strands while I waved to Alice and Sylvie, who were making their way over to us.

“The gourds are epic this year!” Sylvie said excitedly. “Best ever. Totally inspired.”

I smiled while she scrolled through the photos on her phone, showing me some truly insane looking things, when I suddenly saw Alice’s face fall.

“What’s wrong?”

Before she could answer, I heard his voice.

“Maeve. There you are.”

My blood ran cold and I stiffened. What the fuck was he doing here? I didn’t want to turn around but I had no choice. He had not gotten the message so far, so I had to make it clear.

I turned and put my hands on my hips. Oliver stepped behind me and put his hands on my shoulders in a show of support.

I looked him up and down. He looked like himself. Carefree Tristian. A guy who cruised through life and spent most of his time playing video games.

“Go away, Tristian,” I said firmly, praying he wouldn’t make a scene.

He took a step forward, and Oliver cleared his throat.

Tristian glanced at him and shook his head, walking even closer to me. “Maeve, it’s not like that. Why haven’t you returned my calls or texts?”

I glared at him. “Easy. Because I blocked your number.” In the immediate aftermath of our breakup, Tristian made no effort to contact me.

But after my arrest, I stopped caring and had attempted to move on.

Which, of course, made him obsessively call.

I blocked him and didn’t think twice about it.

Apparently it had made him very angry. Good.

“I also contacted Alice; did she give you my messages?”

“Nope. She knows I don’t want to talk to your cheating ass.”

“We need to speak, Maeve. You can’t just do all the shit you did and not talk about it. What about your parents? They came to see me and made a lot of valid points. They think we should talk too.”

I let out a loud laugh. Too loud, but I couldn’t hold it in. Did he actually think my parents’ opinion would be persuasive?”

I looked at him and felt nothing but disgust. This was the man I was going to marry? The man I had wanted to be the father of my children?

Standing in front of me was a petulant, whiny man-child who lacked any semblance of empathy. He was petty and mean, and how on earth had I wasted two years on him?

Was I that numb? That blind? Was I that desperate for some “perfect” life that I was content to settle for someone who didn’t respect me?

At what point in my life had I learned that my happiness didn’t matter?

Because it did. It mattered the most. This was my life and my choices and my future.

I had years of toxic conditioning to unravel and years of boundary setting ahead of me.

It would be hard but, looking at the alternative standing in front of me, totally worth it.

When I didn’t respond, Tristian grew even angrier.

“It’s so typical. You’ve always been a spoiled brat.

And you didn’t get what you wanted so you’re punishing me.

You destroy my car, you pull out of our lease—which you know I can’t cover on my own—and you won’t even have a conversation with me. Spoiled. Fucking. Bitch.”

Sylvie and Alice were by my side in an instant, holding onto Oliver’s massive arms. I heard his groan and knew he was close to hitting Tristian. I put my hand on his chest and looked up at him before turning my attention to fixing this problem once and for all.

“Oh Tristian. Thank GOD I didn’t get married to you. The fact that I ever even contemplated it is embarrassing enough. Please just go away.”

“Embarrassing? You are the embarrassing one. Walking around with that oaf. And what happened to you? You look chubby. Are you letting yourself go? I guess I dodged a bullet.”

My sisters gasped, looking murderous. And Oliver lunged forward, clearly wanting to get at Tristian.

“Stop,” I said, grabbing his arm. I raised an eyebrow and shook my head.

He seemed to understand and took a step back.

Deep in the recesses of my brain, I enjoyed how mad Oliver was.

How he wanted to defend me. And at some point, I would appreciate the shit out of it.

But right now, I could not have him interfering.

As much as I wanted to let him protect me, I had to protect myself.

So I walked right up to Tristian. I wasn’t scared. I wasn’t intimidated. And his verbal abuse could not hurt me anymore.

I poked a finger in his concave chest. “You can just fuck right off, Tristian.”

“You are crazy.”

I laughed and shrugged. “I’d rather be crazy than dishonest and stupid like you are. I’d rather be crazy than a cheater.”

He stared at me with pure hatred in his eyes. “Go back to Boston, Maeve. Go back to your precious office.”

“No,” I said firmly. “Havenport is my home.” I poked him again, so hard he had to take a step back toward the assembling crowd. “Get out. You don’t get to chase me out of my home.”

“You barely spent any time here. If anyone should leave it’s you.”

“Nope. It’s mine now. And you can stay or leave. I don’t give a shit if I see you around, because you are so insignificant to me. You are such a small part of my story, and I truly don’t care.”

I waved him away with one hand. “Go forth and live your shitty, miserable life. I hope you are Moira are very happy together.”

“God, I forgot what a cunt you are,” he snarled, clearly hoping to get a rise out of me, but the longer this conversation went on, the calmer I became. There was nothing here. And he had to understand that and get the fuck out of my way.

“You know what, Tris? Thank you. Thank you for betraying me, embarrassing me, and disrespecting me. Because the magnitude of that hurt? It strengthened and liberated me. I don’t need anyone’s approval anymore.”

“You will never get your perfect life now, Maeve. No one will marry a dried-up shrew like you. You’re just going to be a miserable spinster forever.”

I shrugged; that didn’t sound so terrible if Tris was the alternative. “I’m fine with that. Because I’m happy now. I do what I want. I eat what I want. I got my sisters back. And, most importantly, I got myself back.”

There were murmurs and cheers in the small crowd, started mainly by my sisters, who were fist pumping and jumping up and down in my peripheral vision.

I turned and began to walk away. But I stopped and turned back. “So thanks for being such a shitty person. Because you really woke me up. And now, I’m more awesome than ever.”

I turned, expecting to see Oliver, but he was nowhere.

I scanned the crowd—he should be easy to find since he was a head taller than most people—but I couldn’t find him anywhere.

My heart started to race. Had he left? I needed to talk to him.

I had so much to say to him. So many things to thank him for.

Before I could panic, Sylvie and Alice were at my sides, linking arms with me, and the three of us walked away, leaving Tristian in our dust.