An old feeling comes roaring back to me, constricting my chest until the next breath is a struggle. After that day Natalie came to my office and told me she wanted a divorce, she left and I was bereft. All I wanted to do was call my brother and ask him what I should do, how I could save my marriage.
But he was gone. So I did what he had done before he died. I worked harder.
Graham crosses his arms, a shrewd expression in place. “So, are you here to talk about a partnership? With my buy-in, you can hire more staff without experiencing a stall in earnings.”
He’s right. I’d still be the boss. And years of reaching for perfection in the work environment wouldn’t be undone overnight.
I’m saying that I’m tired, and I don’t know if I’m willing to do the last few years all over again.
I don’t want that either.
“No. I don’t want to partner with you.” When Graham cocks his head I take a seat across from him. Time to get to the other reason I’m here.
* * *
Natalie
Cans of salsa are boiling in the canner and I’m on the bathroom floor. Dad’s out golfing and I couldn’t hold my breakdown in any longer. A flashback to a year ago, when I was in the same place and Mom flitted between me and the girls.
The day passed without hearing from Simon and it’s well into the evening. Still no word.
I wipe my eyes with the back of my wrist. My hands smell like onions and I don’t dare rub my eyes. This stings enough. Mom hovers in the doorway. The girls are downstairs, coloring in the new books Mom got them for cleaning seeds out of all the bell peppers for the salsa.
“I was too hard on him,” I whisper.
She steps inside and perches on the edge of the tub. The room is crowded with just us. My parents’ house is a small ranch with a to-scale bathroom. I sit with my back against the sink cabinets, hugging my knees, my butt on a cushy emerald green rug.
“I wasn’t there, of course,” she says just as softly. “But I doubt you said anything that hasn’t been on your mind for a long while.”
I stuff my hand into my hair, stopping with my fingers buried in the curls and my palm on my forehead. “That’s the problem. I was arguing about what has happened, not what was happening. He asked for my help. There’s literally no reason I couldn’t do it.”
A deep voice answered. “There’s a reason.”
I jerk my head up. Simon towers over us in the doorway. His eyes soften when they land on me and he shoves a hand in the pocket of his slacks. His hard chest is visible through the top two buttons of his shirt. His hair is mussed and his eyes are tired. Yet he’s so devastatingly gorgeous.
And so here. At my mom’s. I didn’t tell him where I was. I glance at Mom. Did she call him?
She shrugs. “Last year, I helped you through this. But I think he needs to be here for you today.”
Simon stands aside to let her out, then steps into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. He takes my mom’s spot on the edge of the tub.
I sniffle. “Thanks for coming.”
“I’m glad I got back to town in time. I stopped at home to find you when your mom called.”
I frown. “You were gone?”
“New York.”
He was up and gone early, but he flew there and back already? “What’d you have in New York?”
“I sold the company to Graham Morgan.”
I stare at him. I can’t have heard right. “You what?”
His lips quirk, but there’s no teasing note to his expression. “Sold it. Done. Helena notified clients—except for Waterson, I took so much joy from that call—and I let Charlie go—with a hefty severance package and a letter of recommendation. Same with Helena. I even convinced him to contact Mr. Mellow from that startup in London that I had to withdraw from.”
“Sold?” I can’t make sense of it. Simon would never sell his company.
He grins, the guy I fell in love with in college making an appearance. “We’re set for life, Natalie. We can have ten kids and they’d each get a trust fund, and we can still donate a lot.”
I sit up straight, my hands bracing me on the floor. “You really did it?”
“I did. You can still launch Let Me Assist You, do whatever you want for a career. I’ll be a stay-at-home dad.” His expression sobers. “I’m not missing out on more of my kids’ lives. I’m not missing any more firsts. Every school performance, I’m there.”
He’s so sincere, heartfelt, and for the first time, I see excitement in his brown eyes instead of grim determination. “I can’t believe you did it. Do you think you’ll be happy?”
“I think I’ll finally be fulfilled. I wanted a legacy for my kids, but all I’m doing is robbing them of memories with me. Stealing them from myself. I’ve missed so much and this summer only gave me a glimpse into everything we’ve all been missing out on. Liam gifted me with a privileged life and to be free of his shadow and my parents’ expectations—and pay it forward. I’m confident it’s what he would’ve wanted.” He digs in his pocket and produces a ring.
It’s my wedding set.
He maneuvers down on one knee. “But I’ll only be happy if you’re by my side. Natalie Gainesworth, will you marry me—again?”
I laugh, and hiccup, and laugh some more. I don’t have to think about the answer. My left hand is reaching out before I realize tears are streaming down my face. “Yes, Simon Gainesworth. I’d love to be your wife—again.”
He slides the ring on and I sigh as the slight weight settles on my finger. It feels right.
I lunge for him as he grabs for me. We meet in a mishmash of sitting and squatting in the middle of the bathroom floor, but we manage to lock lips. I breathe him in as I kiss him. The smell of my husband.
Running his hands up my arms, he pulls back. “Should we go tell the girls?”
“You know they’ll ask about a wedding.”
“What do you want? A justice of the peace? A walk down the aisle? Natalie, I’ll give you anything.”
He’s given me everything. I smile at him and caress his cheek. “I want it as quick and as soon as possible.”
Epilogue
Natalie
I sail through the finish line. My legs are tied, my body is exhausted, but my spirit is soaring. The crowd is loud, but three voices stand out above the rest. I can’t see them, but I can hear them. Simon and the girls.
Aleah pulls me in for a quick hug. “Congrats, Nat. You did it. Your second half-marathon.”
I grin. The first one I did was two years ago, a week after Simon and I married in our back yard surrounded by friends and family. But I walked most of that race and thought about how different life was going to be. I wasn’t wrong. It’s the best kind of different. “Thank you for running with me.”
She throws her arm around me and gives my shoulder a squeeze. “Us tired moms have to keep each other awake for each mile.”
I sling my other arm over Rachel’s shoulder. She sags against me. None of us care how sweaty we are. We ran the whole 13.1 miles. “Thanks for talking me into this.”
It wasn’t hard to get her to train with me. The first year I did it, she couldn’t because her spouse was gone. Last year, she did the race and trained with Aleah, but I couldn’t because little Liam was only a few months old. But this year, we all came together.
I touch my stomach. “We might not get to it next year, but maybe it’ll be an every other year tradition.”
“As long as Aleah’s around to kick my butt.”
“Oh, I’ll be there,” Aleah says. “I don’t care where I am in the world, I’ll be there.”
Abby breaks through other runners milling beyond the finish line with their family. “You did it, Mom!”
She throws her arms around me and I have to disengage with my friends. Abby’s been running with me and Simon, and she plans to tackle a 5K next year. She inspects the medal around my neck and I spot my husband, surrounded by Rachel’s husband and kids, and Aleah’s h
usband and little boy.
While the girls and I were training, the guys formed a dad’s group, which was them hanging out in someone’s back yard while Abby and Kia helped watch the littler kids. Simon can form a dad crew no matter what playground he’s on.
He grins as I approach, pride shining in his expression. He has our sixteen-month-old son Liam in a baby sling on his back. “Way to go!”
Aleah breaks away to head toward her little boy who’s jumping up and down, clapping his little hands. “Remember to stretch.” She points to Rachel, who’s been swarmed by her kids. “You too.”
I get encompassed in a hug with Simon and Maddy and Abby. Liam’s ogling the bystanders, a trail of drool running down his chin into his bib and he’s wearing a little white Let Me Assist You ball cap on his head. Simon had those made just for the kids.
He’s my swag guy, but that’s about all he does with the business beyond being my moral support. He’s too busy coaching soccer and helping lead the sports sampler camps in the summer. As soon as Let Me Assist You grew until it was bigger than I could handle, he and I drew up an extensive business plan and I hired on staff. I have twenty employees all over the country and I work directly with local entrepreneurship interns—and Helena.
She’s my most requested assistant, and would be a partner, but she set strict hours. In her words, “Only enough work to keep me sane while staying home with the kids.”
“Where do you want to eat?” Simon asks.
My first request would be to have him grill. Having Simon cook for me never gets old, but since he’s been a stay-at-home dad for almost two years, going out is a treat. “Somewhere I don’t have to wait on my feet for too long.”
He hands me a banana and points beyond the crowd to a grassy area. “I’m under strict instructions from Aleah to keep you hydrated and make sure you stretch.”
The girls take my hand and tow me to an open area. They run through the stretches with me and Simon takes Liam out of his carrier so he can crawl by us.
The girls talk nonstop.
Abby has her legs kicked out in a V, but her stretch is forgotten. “I told Kia about our trip. She’s so jealous.”
When Simon and I decided on a family vacation before school begins, we talked about going to places like Australia, London, or Paris. Then Simon talked to an old school buddy and they joked about how they should start a retired-by-thirty club. So we’re going to the Caymans, and Karsten is giving us diving lessons.
Our parents are meeting us. All of them. Simon’s parents tentatively reached out and after he told them we were expecting another baby, they slowly came around to the idea of me. I thought Simon selling his business would sever the ties forever, but it’s like the more different Simon is from Liam, the better they accept him as his own person, and are able to accept me as well. Trent Gainesworth changed his tune about being retired at thirty once his son did it. Now he boasts to all his colleagues how Simon did it. He even helped us set up an annual scholarship to a business school under Liam’s name.
Abby keeps talking about Kia. “She can’t wait to have Dad for a coach again. Can’t you wait, Dad?”
Simon pretends to mull it over. “Hmmm. What am I coaching again?”
“Dad.” Maddy grins. Her top front teeth are halfway down and her curls are plaited into a braid like mine—thanks to Simon. “I told her we’re going to win all the games this year.”
I chuckle. Simon’s coached soccer, been the dance dad in the winter, and is on baby duty during swimming lessons. I thought he loved work, but I was wrong. He was driven by obsession and self-expectations. He loves being immersed in his kids’ lives and nurturing other kids. And he loves spending uninterrupted weekends together as a family at our new cabin by the lake.
I run through Aleah’s mandated stretches and rise. Simon hands me a water bottle. I dutifully drink. We stand back and watch Abby roll around with Liam. Maddy’s making faces to get him to laugh and it never fails.
I lean close to whisper, “Should we wait until we land before we tell them?”
Simon’s grin is pure wickedness. “I say we burst eardrums on the plane when we tell them there’s another sibling on the way.”
My laughter rings across the lawn, but the kids are used to their dad making me laugh and ignore us. “The girls will screech and scare Liam and he’ll cry. It’ll be a good time.”
He entwines his hand with mine and I know we’re both thinking about how life radically changed in the last two years. We’re creating a big, wild family for our kids.
Simon looks down at me. “I got a message from that reporter, the one who did the bachelor thing. He wants to do a follow-up on each state’s bachelor. I set up an interview for next week.”
I was so angry when I first read that article, but now I have five copies of the magazine. “What are you going to tell him?”
He leans down to press a kiss on my forehead and touch a hand to my not-quite showing belly. “I’ll have to tell him that his initial article was wrong. I wasn’t North Dakota’s most eligible bachelor. I was only ever eligible for you.”
Want to keep up with all of the new releases in Vi Keeland and Penelope Ward's Cocky Hero Club world? Make sure you sign up for the official Cocky Hero Club newsletter for all the latest on our upcoming books:
https://www.subscribepage.com/CockyHeroClub
Check out other books in the Cocky Hero Club series:
http://www.cockyheroclub.com
About the Author
Marie Johnston writes paranormal and contemporary romance and has collected several awards in both genres. Before she was a writer, she was a microbiologist. Depending on the situation, she can be oddly unconcerned about germs or weirdly phobic. She’s also a licensed medical technician and has worked as a public health microbiologist and as a lab tech in hospital and clinic labs. Marie’s been a volunteer EMT, a college instructor, a security guard, a phlebotomist, a hotel clerk, and a coffee pourer in a bingo hall. All fodder for a writer!! She has four kids and even more cats.
To find out more about Marie’s books:
mariejohnstonwriter.com
Follow me:
Eligible Ex-husband Page 20