forty-four

GRIFFIN

It’s late by the time I get to Maddox’s place, and even though pounding on the door at one a.m. is probably a dick move that will have someone calling the cops on me, I don’t care. I need to see my wife.

After the fourth knock, my best friend wrenches the door open, a hockey stick in his hand, ready to use it as a weapon. Some of the tension in his shoulders eases when he sees me, but that only lasts for a moment. Then he’s using his stick and his palm to push me out into the hallway.

The way he’s looking at me, I know our friendship might be over, and I fucking hate it, but I can’t focus on that now. Not when my wife is just through that door and upset with me. She’s the only thing that matters.

“I need to talk to her. Let me in.”

“Like hell.” He shoves me again. “How the fuck could you do this? You lied to me for months. Looked me right in the eye and acted like you weren’t fucking my sister, you piece of shit.”

I growl and shove him back. “Don’t. It’s not like that, and it never was. She’s my wife, Madds. I fucking love her.”

“You love her.” His chuckle is low and sardonic. “You love her, but you tried to force her into staying married to you, asked her to lie to her family and friends, and then you fucking ditch her when you promised to be there for her?”

“I didn’t ask her to lie to you! Yeah, okay, I talked her into staying married—that part is true—but I didn’t want to keep this a secret.

I wanted to tell everyone. She’s the one who wanted to keep it a secret, and because I love her, I agreed.

Doesn’t mean I liked it. And I didn’t ditch her.

I was stuck in a goddamn elevator with a panicking woman from Breakaway.

It was a freak thing, and there was nothing I could have done about it.

I would never, ever intentionally ditch your sister. Ever.”

Running a hand through my hair, which is probably a greasy mess by now because I can’t seem to stop tugging on it, I glower at my best friend.

“I get that you’re pissed at me, man, I do, but this isn’t about you and me.

This is about my wife, and I need to talk to her.

” And with that, I push past my best friend, and before he can grab me, I shove the door to his place open and call my wife’s name.

“Mira! Mira, I need to talk to you.” I know she’s in the guest bedroom, so that’s where I’m headed when I’m yanked backward. Maddox grabs me by the collar of my shirt and swings me around, slamming me into the wall.

I push him, ready to fight to get to her, if that’s what it takes. “Let me go, man. I need to talk to her. I need to explain.”

“Tough shit, asshole. She cried herself to sleep hours ago. Now, get the fuck out before I break your goddamn jaw.”

“Do what you have to,” I say, pushing him again. “But I’m going to do what I have to do.”

“What’s going on?” Isla squints at us as she comes rushing down the hall and into the living room where I’m tussling with her fiancé. Her eyes widen when she sees us. “Griffin?”

“Isla.” If anyone will be on my side, it’s the redhead standing before me.

Maddox walked away from her and almost ruined everything.

She knows how important it is to talk things out when shit hits the fan in your relationship.

She knows how stupid it is to let a misunderstanding fester until it breaks the most important thing in your life.

“I need to talk to Mira. Please. I have to explain. You, of all people, should understand that.” My voice cracks as desperation rides me hard, making my insides buzz and vibrate.

Isla opens her mouth to respond when the soft sound of shuffling footsteps makes my heart seize. And when my wife stumbles into the room, her eyes red and puffy, hair a tangled mess, I can’t help it. I crack. A strangled sound claws its way out of my throat, drawing her eyes to me.

“Fuck, sunshine, I was so worried.”

Mira’s green eyes take me in, her chin wobbles, then tears start dripping down her cheeks.

Maddox growls, and I barely notice his arm drawing back before pain sparks across my jaw, momentarily blinding me.

He’s shouting about me hurting his sister, calling me a piece of shit, telling me I’m dead, but all I can see is my wife as she rushes toward us, those emerald eyes of hers wide with worry. For me?

“Maddy, stop. Stop it! Let him go.” And then she’s right there, pushing her brother away from me. “You need to back off. It’s fine, I’m fine. Go back to your room. I need to talk to Griffin.”

“Like hell am I going back to my room and leaving you alone with him. I never should have left you alone with him in the first place. That’s why you’re in this mess.”

Isla places a hand on Maddox’s arm, her eyes looking me over with concern. I give her a half smile and nod, letting her know I’m okay.

“Come on, big guy. Let’s let these two talk.” She tries to drag him back to their room, but he levels me with a hard glare.

“If you try anything, you’re dead. Hurt her, and it’ll be the last thing you do.”

Not backing down, I hold my best friend’s gaze, making sure he sees the truth in my words when I say, “I would never intentionally hurt her. She’s my wife. She’s everything.”

After staring me down for another few seconds, Maddox grunts and lets Isla drag him down the hall to their room. The moment their door snicks shut, I move, closing the distance between Mira and me and pulling her into my arms.

“Fuck, baby, I was so scared when I couldn’t find you. I’m sorry. So damn sorry that I missed your pitch. You have to know I wanted to be there. If there was anything I could have done to get to you, I would have.”

Mira’s lip wobbles while I cup her face in my hands, brushing tears away with my thumbs.

“Why did you leave? I get that you were upset with me for missing the meeting, but why did you fly home without telling me? And Maddox said you asked him to stay here?”

Something unreadable flickers over Mira’s face before her eyebrows pinch and she rolls her lips between her teeth. “I didn’t leave because you missed the meeting.”

“Okay… I don’t understand, sunshine. Why’d you leave? What happened?”

My beautiful wife searches my face before she sighs. “Wait here a second. I need to grab my phone.”

Confused, I can only nod. Whatever she’s about to show me, I have a feeling I’m not going to like it. But whatever it is, we’ll work through it. Together. Because that’s what married people do. They work through their issues.

Mira twists the phone in her hands as she returns, and I can tell she’s hesitant to show me whatever is on there that pushed her to walk away from me.

“What is it, baby?”

“I’m scared to show you,” she whispers. Her eyes drop to the floor and her shoulders hunch. I hate it.

“Why are you scared?” I nudge her chin up with the side of my finger.

“Because there are two ways this could go. In one, you hurt me. The other, I hurt you.”

Her words have my heart speeding up, and my chest gives a lurch. Steadying my voice, I ask, “What do you mean?”

There is so much sadness in my wife’s face when she unlocks her phone, taps on the screen a few times, then turns it around to show me a photo.

A photo of me with my arm around Serena Kent as I walked her to her husband.

Except, her husband isn’t in the shot, and she’s looking up at me with what I know to be gratitude, but what could very easily appear to be affection if you didn’t know any better.

So this is why Mira left. She saw a picture of me with my arm around another woman when I was supposed to be by her side, supporting her. It’s very clear what she thought was happening, and it’s a kick to the balls.

My wife thought I was cheating on her.

I let my hand fall away from her face and stagger back a step.

The walls are closing in on me and my chest feels tight.

Like I can’t breathe. “You think I…” I bark out a laugh, but there’s nothing humorous in the sound.

It’s harsh and broken. “That’s not what it looks like.

She was having a panic attack. I was helping her get to her husband because she was so freaked out she could barely walk. But you thought…”

Closing my eyes, I cover my face with both hands, so I don’t see Mira when she lets out a strangled cry. I don’t see her close the distance between us or cover my hands with hers.

“Griffin.”

“I would never choose another woman over you.” The words are muffled through my hands, but I can’t bring myself to look at my wife right now. Not while I’m struggling to hold myself together. “I would never hurt you like that.”

“I know,” Mira sobs. “I know that now, but in the moment, I was so hurt that you didn’t show up, and then I saw that photo and I had already been spiraling, so I freaked out even more.

All I could think about was how hurt I was, you know?

I wasn’t working on logic. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for doubting you, even for a moment.

I’m sorry for leaving without talking to you.

It was shitty and awful of me, and you deserved so much better than that. ”

There’s nothing worse than hearing your wife break down into heart-wrenching sobs. Not even the pain of knowing she doubted me can touch it. Does it hurt? Absolutely. But not as much as almost losing her did. Not as much as seeing her beat herself up over it.

Wrapping her in my arms, I let her cry. I hold her, stroke her hair, and whisper that it will all be okay.

I vow that we’ll work this out. That I don’t blame her for freaking out.

And I don’t. It hurts like hell, but I spent years being photographed with different women on my arm.

I earned my reputation, and I can’t really blame Mira for thinking about it when faced with a photo that looks damning.

I’ll have to prove to her that there’s no other woman for me. She’s it.

And I know just how to do that.