Giving her one thing she needs, I tell her, “I’m doing good, Mrs. Harris.”

  Our conversation is interrupted by a knock at the door. Offering her a small smile, I get up from the table to answer it.

  I find Liam standing on my doorstep, holding a large manilla envelope.

  “What are you doing here?”

  I thought he got the message not come around here after not seeing him in the last couple of days.

  “I just need ten minutes of your time. It’s business, not personal.”

  Intrigued as to what business we could possibly have to discuss, I step to the side. “Then come in, but be warned. Your mom is here.”

  Once he steps inside, I close the door.

  “She is?”

  “In the kitchen.”

  I follow behind him, and he stops in the kitchen doorway.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” he snaps, his voice cold and angry.

  Slipping around him, I’m ready to step in and ask him who the hell he thinks he is talking to her like that, when she stands and shrugs into her coat.

  “You aren’t the only one with unfinished business regarding Gabriella, Liam. After all, she is my daughter-in-law because of you.”

  Her tone leaves no room for questions about her needing backup when it comes to her son, so I hang back.

  “It was nice seeing you again, Gabriella. I’m glad you’re happy.”

  Happy? I didn’t say I was happy. I have a chip on my shoulder the size of a boulder, and I’m well aware of it. Unless she wanted to rub a little salt in her son’s wounds? I like that train of thought, so that’s how I choose to interpret her comment.

  Once Mrs. Harris is gone, I sit back down and pull my legs up to my chest. Liam sits in the chair his mother just vacated and slides the envelope across the table to me.

  Picking it up, I ask, “This is the business you want to talk about?”

  If there are divorce papers inside, I have no idea what I’m going to do.

  “Yes. I spent six years apparently not caring how I treated you. But I care now, and I feel sick every time I run through what you’ve told me, and how I was capable of betraying you in the way I did.”

  Opening the flap, I peer inside and see papers first. “No apology could…”

  “Could help you heal. I get that. You need so much more than that.”

  For the first time in six years, my anger is replaced with nerves. I slide the thick wad of papers out. They’re not divorce papers.

  I quickly read over the front page, which is about a house.

  Looking up at Liam for an explanation, he proceeds to tell me, “They are the deeds to my house in town. I’ve had my personal possessions removed. I wasn’t sure if you’d want the furniture since I was the one who picked it out, so if you don’t, I’ll have it removed as well. You need to sign a few papers, and then it’s all yours.”

  At the bottom of the envelope is a set of keys. Tipping the envelope over the table, they land with a thud.

  “When did you buy a house in town?” I question.

  As far as I knew, Liam hadn’t been back to town since he left at eighteen, unless it was for court. And even then, I assumed he came and went the same day.

  “Callum told me I bought it after I hit it big. Apparently, I came back a few times over the years when I wanted to be alone.”

  Oh.

  “I’ve spoken with my bank manager, and she’s filled me in on my finances. I have a lot of money, and yet I never even tried to send you anything. I had her check for me.”

  Didn’t he believe me? I shouldn’t be surprised, yet I am.

  “Did you forget I refused to give you a divorce, and you hated me for it?”

  “You had every right to hate me.” He undoes his coat and pulls out a piece of paper from inside his pocket. “I’ve written you a check. It isn’t an apology, but it’s the right thing to do.” He holds it out instead of sliding it across the table. I hesitantly take it and choke on air when I see the amount—three million dollars!

  Thank fuck I’m sitting down. My entire body tingles with shock, and I slam the check facedown on the table.

  I could’ve divorced him and gotten a hefty payout, especially with his people not wanting our story to hit the headlines. But this has never been about money. It still isn’t.

  “Has this eased your guilt?”

  “Not even a fraction, Gabriella. This is what you’re owed. I’ve been told I have a villa in Europe. You’ll have to wait for it to sell, but once it does, you’ll receive half of what it’s worth.”

  “You’re giving me half of everything?”

  “You’re my wife.”

  “I was your wife for one night. In fact, I was your wife for as long as it took you to take my virginity,” I remind him.

  “I know,” he grinds out and stands. “Anyway, that’s what I came to say. You’ll also receive half of my royalties as and when I receive them. It’s usually two or three times a year.”

  He starts to limp to the door, and I rush out of my seat.

  “Wait.”

  He stops and turns around.

  “If you were your old self, you wouldn’t be doing this. You shouldn’t be making these kinds of decisions right now.”

  “The address for your new house is on the deed.”

  He leaves without saying another word, and I slump back down onto the kitchen chair, staring at a piece of paper that’s worth so much in cash, but absolutely nothing to me.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I add the last bauble to the tree and step back to admire my festive handiwork. The pretty lights make me smile. It’s not a big tree. It barely reaches my nose, but up on the small table, it nearly touches the ceiling.

  Christmas songs play on the radio, and I make a start on wrapping the few gifts I’ve picked up for my niece and two nephews. The carpet is covered in pine needles, and I’m about to cut the paper when the doorbell rings. Heaving myself up off the floor, I go to answer it, and wish I hadn’t.

  “Liam?”

  It’s been a month since I last saw him. As usual, he looks good, which annoys the shit out of me. I also notice he got his cast off.

  “You haven’t cashed the check or been by the house.”

  That’s the reason he’s standing on my doorstep? Heaven help me.

  “I don’t need your money or the house. I have my own.”

  I went to cash the check, I really did, but I couldn’t do it. It sure would solve every financial difficulty I face on a monthly basis, but I couldn’t bring myself to step inside the bank and put it in my account.

  It’s not my money. And even if Hell were on earth and Armageddon was upon us, would Liam come to his senses and voluntarily give me half of what he’s worth? I will never give anyone, let alone him, the satisfaction of having a better life because of him and his money.

  “Gabriella,” he growls, pushing by me and standing in the middle of my living room.

  “Excuse me! I did not invite you in.”

  Who the hell does he think he is?

  “Cash the check.”

  “No!”

  Taking a seat in the middle of the couch, he crosses his ankle over his knee and spreads his arms along the back of the couch, like he fucking owns the place.

  Oh, it rattles me something fierce, and I point to the door. “Leave. Now.”

  “Not until you cash the check and move into the house.”

  The vulnerability he showed a month ago is gone. Flashes of the old Liam are there, and I almost smile. I feel much more comfortable going toe-to-toe with that Liam. At least with him, I know where things stand.

  His hair has been shaved shorter, and the longer strands on top have grown out longer. He flicks it to the side when it falls over his eyes, and the action catapults me straight back to high school.

  “What are you playing at? Why are you even still in town?” I blurt out.

  “Shit’s changed. I’m playing at nothing, and I’m still in town because my wife is still living in this small shack of a house, and hasn’t got three million dollars in her account.”

  My wife.

  I’m getting real sick of him speaking those two words together when referring to me.

  “That’s the only reason you’re in town?”

  “Yes.”

  Then it’s simple.

  Storming into the kitchen, I rip open the drawer and grab the papers that were sent to me just last year.

  Grabbing the pen off the table, I storm back into the living room and bend down at the coffee table. Brushing the scotch tape and Christmas tags to the side, I place the papers in front of me and use my mouth to rip off the pen cap.

  “What are you doing?”

  He sits forward, all his cocky bravado gone.

  “These are the last set of divorce papers you sent me. In them, you offer me nothing, because you saw me as nothing, and definitely not your wife. You’ve finally got what you wanted.”

  Scribbling my signature on every page indicated, I chuck the pen down, compile the papers into one neat pile, and shove them at him.

  Standing, my body is strumming with energy, and I clench my hands to try and relieve the pressure.

  “There, we’re divorced. I don’t need to cash shit, and I’m not moving anywhere. You have nothing to hold over me now, and I have fuck all to hold over you. Congratulations, you’re finally a free man.”

  My bitterness drips from every word, and then I freeze. What if this was his plan all along? It doesn’t matter. This has to be done. Keeping him waiting for six years was enough, and I smile, knowing I made his life some sort of hell by not giving in to him.

  “Gabriella,” he whispers.

  What now? Why can’t he drop this mask of guilt and leave me be?

  He walks into the kitchen and picks up my lighter. Over by the sink, he moves the dish bowl onto the draining board and proceeds to set the papers on fire.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” I shriek.

  “We’re not getting a divorce.”

  Leaning against the doorframe, I slide down and drop onto my ass. This is exhausting. Hanging my head in my hands, I grip onto my hair and pull. For six years, he’s fought to divorce me, and now he’s burning the papers before the ink is even dry.

  I smell his cologne before I feel his warm hands tug at mine. I release my hair, but I don’t look up at him crouched before me, not until his finger lifts my chin and I’m staring into his eyes.

  “Our story doesn’t end like this, and it sure as hell shouldn’t have fucking started how it did. I fucked you up, and I’m not going anywhere. It doesn’t end like this.”

  A stupid tear betrays me and slips down my cheek. I hastily wipe it away, and I’m glad when he stands and walks out.

  I sit on the floor until my ass goes numb, letting the tears fall.

  Fuck Liam Harris.

  He’s playing a game. Whatever he’s up to, it’s for his own gain. I have no idea what it is or why he didn’t just take the papers and get on with his life. But I do know he isn’t catching me out again.

  The bar is busy, and the music is loud enough to mask most of the conversations around me. Cain saunters in a few hours after my shift starts and props his ass at the bar.

  He always has a cold beer with a tequila shot. Knowing this, I grab his drinks and set them in front of him. Being there’s a lull, I lean on the bar across from him and grin. It’s good to see him, especially after our last encounter.

  After leaving the house, I decided to just get on with my life, as normal. Whatever game Liam tries to play, I’ll ignore him. He’ll eventually get bored and leave town. He was never destined to stay here, and I doubt that’s changed.

  “It’s good to see you. Where have you been?”

  He left town shortly after I last saw him for another sales trip and got back this morning. He texted me earlier, letting me know he’d be by the bar at some point tonight.

  “Seattle. It’s good to be home, I’ll tell you that. Especially if my friend wants me to come over after her shift?”

  Wiggling his brows, I laugh.

  “Your friend could definitely do with some company after her shift,” I inform him, watching his grin grow.

  “Your husband isn’t going to show up while I’m balls deep inside you, is he?”

  Rolling my eyes, I shake my head, but I don’t commit to answering. Liam could very well show up at the house. It’s not like he isn’t afraid to knock at my door whenever he feels like it.

  “I’m serious, Gabs. I can do without husband drama.”

  “So could I,” I mutter. Pushing away from the bar, I add, “Look, if you don’t want to come over, don’t.”

  He leans over and captures my wrist in his large hand before I can walk off.

  “I’m sorry. Besides, it’s not like I couldn’t kick his ass.”

  Imagining Liam getting his ass kicked brings a genuine smile to my lips.

  Just as I lean back against the bar, the door opens and in walks Callum, Ethan, Bella, and Alice. I tense, and Cain notices.

  “What’s wrong?”

  My eyes follow them as they make their way across the bar to a booth in the corner.

  “You know those guys?”

  “Once upon a time.”

  What are they doing here? As far as I know, they’ve never been here. Not while I’m working, anyway. Liam walks in moments later and joins them without looking my way. This has to be some sort of cosmic joke.

  “Great, the husband’s here,” Cain mutters, and I slap him on the arm.

  “Stop calling him that. I’ll see you later. I get off at midnight.”

  He tips his chin and winks. “I’ll meet you at your place by half past.”

  He slides off his stool and leans on the bar. I haven’t moved, and before I can see what he’s doing, he kisses me hard on the lips and whispers, “Just because I’m a prick and want him to hate me.”

  I can’t help but laugh. “He’ll hate you a lot more after tonight when your lips are kissing somewhere else.”

  He barks out a raucous laugh while Liam glares from the booth when I look over. Cain stops at the door and calls out, “Don’t keep me waiting tonight.”

  Ignoring his comment, designed to obviously rile Liam up, I move on to Charlie, who’s tipping his empty glass at me.

  “Same?” I ask, already turning to fill his glass with house whiskey.

  He slaps his money on the bar and heads back to his table. Callum and Ethan soon takes his place, cash in hand, waiting to order. Taking a deep breath, I plaster on a smile and greet them like they’re any other patron.

  “Good evening. What can I get you?”

  “Still slutting it up with pharma guy, I see,” Callum snorts.

  “Has Carter had enough of you, Gabs? What about that other guy… what was his name? Oh yeah, Michael. You’ve literally managed to open your legs for everyone in town but us,” Ethan says coldly.

  Arching my brow, I keep my tone light, considering I’m burning with rage.

  “Is that you implying you want me to spread them for you, Ethan? How about I let Cain down tonight and you both come home with me? I haven’t had a three-way before.” Snapping my fingers and feigning a good idea, I add, “Hey, Liam was my first. You two could be my first threesome, and then the three of you will always have a claim on my firsts. I mean, I might even be able to take off now. Why wait? I’m horny enough I’d fuck both of you. I have enough holes to keep you both busy.”

  Their mouths hang open, and it’s Ethan who recovers first.

  “Can’t speak for Cal, but I wouldn’t touch you with a hobo’s dick.”

  Leaning over the bar, I sneer, “And if you seriously believe I’d let you anywhere near me, you’re more arrogant than I thought.”

  Stepping away, I take a deep breath.

  “Now, if you’re not ordering drinks, take your assess out of here and fuck off somewhere else.”

  They get over their shock and put their orders in before Ethan adds, “Bring them over to the table.”

  With their backs to me as they walk off, I mutter, “Assholes.”

  I busy myself preparing their order and load their drinks onto a tray.

  “I can take it over if you want?” Rory offers.

  “It’s okay. I’ve got this.”

  I won’t hide from these jerkoffs. I ran from them once to the sound of their laughter, and I won’t do it again. Inhaling deeply, I carry their order over to their table.

  Bella and Alice mutter “Thank you” without making eye contact. Callum smirks as I place his drink down, most likely thinking of that three-way, and Ethan flat-out acts like I don’t exist.

  Angling my body to place Liam’s drink in front of him, I ignore his attempt at a friendly smile and return to the bar.

  I manage to dodge their return trips for more drinks. Rory has caught them every time, and I’m so thankful.

  The relief I feel a couple hours later when they all stand and get their coats on is immense. I only have an hour and a half left of my shift. Not once did I look over to them, but I heard them. Every time they laughed or hollered, I gritted my teeth and busied myself with serving or cleaning.

  “Roar, I’m taking my break,” I tell him, sliding behind him as he serves Charlie his last whiskey.

  “Sure thing.”

  Grabbing a beer on my way out, I collect my smokes and lighter. Taking a seat on the plastic crate, I drain half the beer before I can relax and start to enjoy my fifteen-minute break. Lighting a cigarette, I exhale the smoke in a long stream and sigh.

  Liam knew I worked here, so why bring the guys in after hearing how they all cheered on what he did to me? He acts like he’s sorry and understands my hatred, but then he sits in my bar with them, like he’s rubbing my nose in it.

  “What did Callum and Ethan say to you when they came to the bar?”

  To my right, the man himself stands, hands deep in his pockets, staring down at me. For goodness’ sake. What is it going to take for this man to leave town?

  “We were just reminiscing about the guys I’ve slept with since I gave you first dibs,” I bite out.