“Yes, Daddy is going to watch,” Vic answers for me.
“Daddy has to go back to work. Daddy told mommy,” I remind Vic.
She rolls her eyes.
“Mommy will tape the whole game, and I can watch it with you later, okay, Ethan?” I ask.
My nine-year-old son nods look upset for a moment and then is easily distracted by his friends on the field, already kicking around a football.
“Evan, you promised!” Vic scolds me as soon as Ethan is out of earshot.
“I almost promised my father; do you want to answer to him for me? Do you want to tell him-” I stop talking when I see her.
Leigha and her almost nine-year-old daughter.
They’re walking up towards the field together, holding hands.
Stella has her father’s dark brown hair and Leigha’s grey eyes.
She’s hauntingly beautiful, even at her young age, and Ethan’s had a crush on her since they started school together.
That’s asking for trouble.
Can you imagine?
Leigha and Merc’s daughter, and my son?
“Leigha!” I call her name.
She waves, finishes pulling Stella’s hair into a ponytail and sends her off for the game.
“I’m surprised to see you here, I thought you were late on that project for your dad,” Leigha says.
I can see Vic’s scowl, but I ignore it.
“Yeah, I figured I’d at least drop Ethan off,” I say.
“I think he’s taken a liking to Stella,” Vic interjects.
Leigha laughs.
“I think all the boys have,” Leigha admits nervously.
Her daughter is beautiful, indeed. As beautiful as her mother...
“I’m headed back to the office. I’ll see you there, Evan. Vic thanks for taking her home,” Leigha says.
“No problem. Are we still on for girl’s night Friday?” Vic asks.
“You bet!” Leigha confirms.
Leigha and I walk back towards the cars, and my hand brushes against hers.
“Evan, they’re going to suspect something, don’t try to hold my hand,” Leigha says.
She’s teasing me because we’ve both gotten to the point where we don’t care.
Merc is always away, ‘married to his job,’ and Vic refuses to see anything going on between Leigha and me.
“Evan, I think it’s time to end this,” Leigha says.
“Leigha?” I question her.
“Why?” I try to remain calm.
“I meant our marriages, you idiot,” Leigha corrects herself.
“Goddamn pregnancy brain,” she swears.
“What?” I stare at her.
“That wasn’t how I wanted to tell you,” Leigha groans.
“You’re pregnant?” I ask.
Leigha nods.
“And it’s mine?” I ask.
“Yes, I haven’t slept with Merc in months,” Leigha admits.
A wave of relief washes over me, and despite the heat of the London day, I am suddenly in the middle of the cool, crisp, ocean. The blaring of my alarm intrudes, slowly increasing in volume, until, just as I go to wrap Leigha in my arms, the dream dissolves. I pry an eye open, and it’s Vic who is standing there, looking over me. For a moment, I wonder if I was talking in my sleep.
“You slept in late,” she says, indicating the alarm clock.
“I set it to go off before noon, okay?” I grumble. I pull a pillow over my head, wanting to dive back into the dream.
“I didn’t want to wake you, but I’m going out for lunch with Levi, can you take Ethan?” Vic asks.
“Ask Ava, I have to go to the lawyer today,” I mumble through the pillow.
“Alright,” Vic replies, and I can feel it as she no doubt rolls her eyes.
I hear her leave the room, then the house. I roll over, listening for my son.
Silence.
As a parent, that’s a good thing – or a bad thing.
I convince myself that Vic wouldn’t leave the boy strangling in his bedsheets or anything else crazy like that.
I notice I have a massive erection. One thing is for sure: that dream felt as real as anything. At this point, I can ultimately see Leigha and I falling back together again like that. I idly consider jerking off, then sigh and roll over.
Maybe I’ll fall back asleep.
Just then, I hear Ethan.
I roll out of bed, and adjust my raging hardon to a more comfortable position, before going to deal with what is probably a giant poop diaper.
I scratch my rear and walk into his room.
Yep, I can tell from the smell. Poop diaper. Wonderful thing, being a father. I steel myself to tackle the unholy mess I know is waiting for me. I talk to Ethan as he gurgles and coos, all the while cleaning something that looks like a Japanese horror film from his legs and backside. He smiles and farts.
I laugh.
I put another diaper on, and soon he is looking at the mobile above his crib. I bounce it and watch as my son’s eyes follow the colorful shapes. He yawns, hugely, and burps. I roll him over, patting his back. He burps again and is soon asleep.
I walk out, quietly, and somewhat proud of the little guy.
That was one hell of a dump…
* * *
I sit down for a cup of coffee. I feel miserable that I’m not with Leigha. I blow on the cup to cool it down. There’s some nonsense on the tube, so I change the channel. I can’t believe what she’s doing to us over Vic and the baby.
Why can’t things work out?
Damn it.
I look over some of the proposals I am supposed to be handling, but it’s difficult to concentrate. I toss them back onto the table, drink my coffee, and stare out the window, looking for any sign that Leigha has reconsidered and come to her senses.
A crow flies past the window, and I curse at it.
* * *
When I get the lawyer’s office, Leigha is already waiting with Brighton Cross. I sit down at the table.
“You’re late, Mr. Stone,” Brighton comments.
My lawyer, Harry Morgan, rolls his eyes. I’m directly in front of Leigha, and I can’t handle the way she looks. She’s wearing a soft white sweater that’s just off her shoulders, with her hair twisted into a bun. Her glasses are perched on her nose, just so. She looks both adorable and beautiful. Her incredible eyes refuse to meet mine.
“Leigha, are we doing this?” I ask her.
Leigha presses her lips together so hard that they disappear and she looks at Brighton.
“Mr. Stone, let’s make this quick,” Brighton tells me.
“I want to talk to you, Leigha, but you’re not giving me a chance here,” I persist.
“Talk about what?” Leigha’s voice cracks.
“You don’t want this anymore than I do,” I tell her.
“That’s not true,” she lies.
“Mr. Stone, the basis of the annulment is that while you were married, you had a child with another woman,” Brighton interrupts.
“Can you stop for two seconds?” I snap at Brighton.
“Mr. Stone, I can assure you that Ms. Bergmann is going through with this,” Brighton replies.
Leigha nods to him.
“If you contest this, I can assure you there will be a very nasty divorce process, in which Ms. Bergmann will get every single cent she is owed as the outcome from your treacherous marriage,” Brighton threatens.
“Evan,” Leigha interrupts. She looks at me, coolly. “This is what I want. It’s best for all of us. For you. For Ethan,” Leigha’s voice is clear. But I can hear an edge to it, and I know she’s close to tearing up.
“It’s not best for you and me, though, Leigha,” I say, sincerely.
“We’re not what’s best for Ethan,” Leigha says. She chokes back a sob, her face twists in anguish, and all I want to do is hold her.
“Ethan needs both his parents,” she says.
Then, she nods for Brighton to continue.
“Mr. Stone will agree to the terms of the annulment, as discussed, Evan,” Harry says pointedly.
“Remember, you agreed,” Harry reminds me.
“I only agreed because I have to. I’m not being given a choice here,” I snap back.
“But you agreed, Evan. Please make this easy on both of us,” Leigha says.
Her plea makes me fall silent. All I want is for us to be together again! It makes it hard to breathe as our lawyers discuss the dissolution of our marriage. When I asked her to marry me, that was it, I meant it. I thought we were to spend the rest of our lives together. It physically pains me when they slide the annulment petition towards me, and I have to sign my name.
I pause.
“Is this what you want Leigha? If it is, I’ll sign it, and you’ll never hear from me again. I promise you. But think for a second. Because, if there’s even a slight chance you think our marriage can work, Ethan and Vic be damned, I can’t sign this,” I tell her, honestly.
Leigha looks unsure, but instead, she takes the paper from me and signs her name. When she slides it back, I see the name ‘Leigha Bergmann’ in the familiar, elegant script of her handwriting, and I know it’s over.
This is the end.
My hand quavering slightly, I sign.
And, with that signature, know I’ve lost the only woman I’ve ever really loved.
8
Leigha
January 6, 2019
Breathless, I manage to hold my ground as the lawyers discuss specifics. Evan stares at me, waiting for me to look up at him, but I know that if I do, I will fall to pieces in his arms and beg them to rip the papers to shreds.
I want him to be mine forever!
He was mine, long before Victoire Bishop ever entered the picture.
But, I think, Evan Stone deserves to be happy.
Even if he doesn’t admit it today, this is for the best. It’s best that Evan is not with me. It’s best that little Ethan grows up in the company of two loving parents. It’s best that I let go of the fantasy that Evan and I are meant to be. That’s just bullshit.
A fairy tale.
Not real…
* * *
“That’s it,” Brighton tells me. “We can go now,” he adds.
I stand up with my coat in my hands and follow Brighton out of the room, without even a glance in Evan’s direction. I am ready to bolt from Brighton’s office when I realize I have to sign something at the desk for the fees.
Fuck.
My damn suitcase is in the conference room!
“Brighton, I forgot something,” I tell him.
“Go to the desk whenever you’re ready, and she’ll take care of you,” Brighton says.
I nod and return to the boardroom to retrieve it. I’m supposed to catch my flight to Male, separate from Merc’s in a few hours. I’ll be late if I don’t get moving.
When I open the door to the boardroom, Evan is still sitting there.
“Forgot something,” I whisper.
“Our marriage? How much you love me? The way you feel in my arms?” Evan suggests.
His words bring me to a screeching halt as I grasp the handle of my suitcase.
I remember exactly how it feels to be wrapped up in Evan’s arms, how amazing our life together was, and most of all: waking up next to each other every single morning knowing that we had nothing but time.
“No,” I manage in a shaky voice.
“Then, why the suitcase?” Evan asks.
“I’m going away for a bit,” I say.
Then, to hurt him, to make him hate me, I add more.
“With Merc,” I say.
Evan’s face darkens.
“You’re together then. So, that’s why you’re leaving me?” he instantly jumps to the conclusion I thought he would.
I nod and make a move to leave, but suddenly he’s directly in front of me. I can smell him, his cologne, his scent. My instinct is to move away from him as fast as possible before I truly inhale and give into what he wants. What I should do is lie and tell him I am running away with Merc, that it’s my revenge against what he did to me with Vic. But I can’t bear the thought of hurting Evan that much.
I recall how relieved I was when I realized that having sex with Merc had only been a wild dream.
I step away from him. He’s magnetic. It would be so easy to fall into his arms, to kiss his chest, and then have him throw me onto the conference room table and fuck me to oblivion right there.
But he has Vic, now. I need to let him think I have Merc.
“It’s just a trip, to get out of town for a bit,” I say in a sad attempt to backtrack.
“Why Merc, Leigha? Why him?” Evan mumbles.
He’s got his face in his hands.
Instantly, I go to him against my better judgment. I put a hand on his shoulder, steadying myself. I am nearly lost…
“It’s not like that. You know the way I felt about Merc was nothing like the way I feel about you,” I explain.
“Then why aren’t we married?” Evan asks. A pained expression crosses his face, making it dark and moody.
He stands so that we’re almost face to face. He’s so much taller than I am that he’s looking down at me, searching my face.
“You still love me, don’t you?” he asks. He’s unsure of himself. It’s so unlike him. His confidence has been shaken, and it’s all my fault!
“Oh, Evan!” I cry.
“Of course, I do! That’s why we had to do this, because you deserve to have your family, and Ethan deserves the world from you! You’ll see that, that this is for the best. For us all,” I say, tearing up.
“Leigha, you are the one who deserves the world from me,” Evan says, putting his fingers beneath my chin, and tilting my face up into his.
His mouth is inviting to me. I should go, but the tortured gaze hypnotizes me. He ignores all mention of his son.
“I’m not the woman you should be with, though,” I sniffle.
Evan wraps his arms around me, but I push him away.
“Don’t,” I plead with him.
I pick up my suitcase, and get past him, through the doorway. He follows me out, down to where the receptionist has my invoice waiting.
“Why? Because it feels so right?” Evan persists.
“It was hard enough to do this, to set you free, to let you go be with Vic, Evan. I can’t handle you fighting for me,” I admit.
I sign the papers, and the woman thanks me. She’s looking at me as though I am insane. Why in the world would I leave a man like Evan? I laugh inside, convinced she’s right.
I pick up the suitcase and spin around to face Evan.
Steeling myself, I force out the words I hope will stop him.
“I’m going away, with Merc, Evan. You’ll have Vic, and I can try again, maybe, with him,” I say, my heart sinking into my stomach.
My admission makes Evan’s face twist in anguish.
“You didn’t have to do this! Goddamnit, Leigha! We could’ve found our way around it! I’ll never love Victoire the way that I love you, don’t you understand that? You’re my soul mate Leigha! You’re it! You’re all I want! If it’s not you, then it’s no one. I’m begging you, Leigha! I’m begging you to stop this before it goes too far! We can go, we can tell them right now that we changed our minds, and that we’re not going through with this! Just say the words! Please say the words!” Evan pleads with me.
He’s gripping me by the shoulders.
“Say them,” he repeats.
“I can’t,” I struggle to get the two words out of my mouth. They taste so bitter.
The receptionist is doing a poor job of pretending to work. I can see she is confused, and maybe even a bit angry at me.
I read her mind – “Stupid cow! What in the hell is wrong with you? Can’t you see how much this man adores you? You don’t deserve a man like him!”
Evan is still gripping my shoulders.
“You want to. You want me as m
uch as I want you,” Evan keeps going, desperation seeping into his voice.
The look in his eyes is that of a drowning man, and it’s tearing me apart. I can’t take this much longer.
“Undo this, Leigha, please, come home, to me, to us!” he says.
I know he is referring to the cat. And, that’s when I start to cry, remembering Bond at home, all alone and probably confused as to where I am. Meowing, searching for me. And I won’t ever be there again!
I want to tell Evan to take good care of Bond, but I can’t manage anything but a choking sob. Evan pulls me roughly into his arms, one final time.
“This is goodbye, isn’t it?” he asks me, frantically searching my face for one last hope.
I can’t nod, I can’t tell him, yes, I can’t do anything. As if I am in a dream, I have to push myself from of his arms, the act physically making every muscle in my body tighten. In slow motion, I grab my case.
Barely, just barely, I make it out of the building.
Evan follows me to my car and is still pleading with me not to do this, but it’s already done.
I get in and watch the man crumple. I’ve taken everything away from him. From the two of us.
I’ve broken everything, and there’s no way to fix it.
9
Evan
January 6, 2019
Athena and Aidan returned from their trip with nothing but a sunburn, but I’m already in a mood.
“What’s wrong with you?” Aidan asks.
Mulling over my future behind my father’s desk, I’ve broken with tradition. Now, instead of only whiskey in his office, I have a bottle of cheap-shit vodka that Leigha would probably favor.
“Why do you assume there’s something wrong? Vic is alive; I’ve got Ethan, my marriage is now over, so I’m free to do whatever I want,” I reply sarcastically.
Athena’s face drops in shock.
“What are you talking about?” she asks.
“How long were we gone?” Aidan asks, bewildered.
“Leigha left me,” I say.
“Oh, Evan!” Athena cries. At least she is sympathetic.
FRACTURE: Hearts of Stone Book Six Page 5