It took me twenty minutes to find the appropriate file, copy and add the clause to Adam's motion and email it to him. As I finished the email, Kayla studied the photos on my desk.

  "What's Jamie doing for Christmas?" I asked.

  "He's with his family in Boston." Her tone laced with sadness.

  "Kayla, do you want to talk about it?" I turned in my chair. "Do you regret asking him to move out?"

  "No. God, no. I'm just sad about it. Sad that it didn't work out the way it was supposed to." She pouted and studied the spin of a book.

  "Do you regret anything?" I asked.

  "I don't know. I'd hate to think the time we spent together was a waste. He was my first grown-up love. It’s sad to say, but where would my life be if I hadn't met him."

  "I know what you mean. Maybe it’s the holidays or something, but I think how different my life would be if I had never met Josh."

  "Well, there's Jack, for one thing." She raised an eyebrow.

  "Yeah. I know." I stared at the computer screen. "It's hard. I can't have one without the other. It's weird now since Jack started asking about him."

  "Oh, wow. How do you deal with that?"

  "I don't," I said and laughed. "Jack knows the truth about what Josh did to me, but I don't want him to think that's all there is to Josh. Jackson tells him the good stuff. I have a problem separating the good from the bad."

  "That's always been your problem," Kayla said as she flopped into the chair opposite my desk.

  I stood up and walked over to the picture window. The practice facility was quiet. Practice time was over; they only had a walkthrough tomorrow and team meetings tomorrow night.

  "What do you mean by that?" I asked Kayla even though I knew what she meant. As painful as it was, I wanted to hear her perspective.

  "Isn't that why it took you so long to accept Jackson in your life?" She walked up and stood next to me. "For all the good he brought in your life, you couldn't forgive the bad."

  "You can't compare Josh's bad to Jackson's bad."

  "Exactly." Kayla turned to me.

  The heat of her stare hit the side of my face.

  "Is that a little of what you're feeling now?" Kayla asked as she touched my shoulder. "Why you're so in a weird place instead of blissfully happy about the life you’re about to lead with the love of your life."

  "That's the thing, Kayla," I said as I turned to face her. "We are all getting ready to start something. I want to get to the part where it just is, and I don't know what’s holding me back from that. Maybe it will be different when we get married."

  I hope.

  My fear, maybe it wouldn't.

  Would I always be looking for my life to start.

  "It’s just where life is for both of us right now." Kayla put her arm around me, and we headed out of the office. "I'm ending my marriage, and you’re starting yours. When all the dust settles, we know one thing for certain."

  "What's that?" I was so ready for her to impart some wisdom on me that would bring me hope for the future.

  "We always have each other," she said as she threw he head back and cackled.

  I laughed.

  It wasn't everything, but I'd take it.

  Chapter 9

  If the weekend wasn't stressful enough, my mother had the bright idea to add a quick shopping trip into the mix. I didn't realize it was a wedding dress outing until we were well on our way and it was too late for me to bail.

  We drove to a dress shop in Scottsdale. My mother's justification being it was the only time we would all be together before the chaos of the playoffs.

  Mrs. Mitchell had three boys, and his oldest son's wife was four months pregnant when they got hitched last summer. Her middle son was a musician, and as she says, if he ever settled down with one woman, it would be a miracle. She was excited about planning a wedding.

  Jackson and I were in the text message stage of our fight. Neither of us ready to admit our argument was stupid.

  Poor me, my gorgeous sexy future husband wanted to build me a million-dollar home and couldn't stand the thought of not having me in his bed and by his side every day.

  I know. I'm ridiculous.

  I was pretty sure I wasn't going to accept Adam's offer, but something kept me from turning it down outright.Until I defined it, my whole life was in limbo.

  Wedding dress shopping, in my present mental state, was a bad idea.

  When we walked into the showroom doused in pale pink tones, I turned to Kayla with eyes as big as saucers. She smiled, took my arm, and walked me inside before I bolted in the other direction.

  "Oh, my goodness. Isn't it beautiful?" My mom had her sights on a pale pink taffeta with puffy sleeves and a train.

  "Marilyn." Thankfully, Mrs. Mitchell rescued my mom from bad taste. "For a summer wedding, that's too much material."

  Who said anything about a summer wedding?

  "I thought you were thinking about a destination wedding. South America, was it?" Mom asked.

  "Costa Rica," Kayla said and hiccuped.

  I shook my head. It was where she got married—bad karma.

  Kayla laughed and looked through some of the racks.

  A woman in a pale pink fitted suit and a messy bun approached Kayla.

  "May I help you with anything?" She smiled at all of us but went back to addressing Kayla. "When is the big day?"

  "Oh, my divorce should be final sometime in March," Kayla said with a goofy grin on her face.

  "Kayla Griffin," Mrs. Mitchell said and rolled her eyes. "This is our bride." Mrs. Mitchell presented me to the lady like I was Princess Diana.

  "Hi." I smirked, and she looked me up and down and smiled. The other sales lady walked out from the back carrying a tray of champagne.

  I love her.

  "Ellen, this is Carrington Butler. Her future mother-in-law, Mrs. Mitchell," the lady, with the goods, asked, and Mrs. Mitchell nodded, "made an appointment."

  We all took a glass.

  "I'm Faith. We are super excited to be dressing Jackson Mitchell's bride for her wedding." She smiled. I nodded and fought the urge to take off running.

  Ellen's face turned red. "Oh, yes. Miss Butler. We have some dresses pulled for you so we can get an idea of what suits you. We're ready for you whenever you are."

  "Thank you," I said and downed the glass of champagne.

  We followed Ellen into another room with a pink sectional in front of a podium and angled mirrors that showed me from every side possible.

  Kayla went to the rack of wedding dresses and scanned through them with ease. She pointed at four of the dresses, and Ellen cradled them in her arms and carried them into a room off to the side.

  I stared at Kayla, and she motioned for me to follow Ellen. Mrs. Mitchell and Mom were getting settled on the sectional as if sitting down to watch a movie.

  I reached out for Kayla. She rolled her eyes, took my hand, and pulled me into the side dressing room.

  Ellen hung the four dresses up on silver hooks, one on each wall and the door. Surrounded by four shades of white, silk, and lace, I groaned.

  Kayla ignored me.

  "So those two are something you would never pick, but I think they would look amazing on you," Kayla said as she slid her hand down the fabric of an off-white sleeveless lace dress.

  "And these two?" I pointed, recognizing the panic in my voice.

  "They are something you would pick out." She pulled one of the dresses off the hanger.

  "You say that like it’s a bad thing."

  "No. All the dresses are beautiful. You don't have to pick one out today. We're just getting an idea of your style," Kayla said as if picking out wedding dresses was an everyday occurrence. She ran a nonprofit for goodness sake. She wasn't a wedding consultant.

  I walked to the one that I would never pick and ran my hand down the soft ivory fabric. I held it up and marveled at the intricate work in the simple garment.

  I handed it to Faith while I stripped down to my bra and panties, Faith helped me put it on over my head. I shimmied into the dress, pulling it over my ass.

  "We have some heels if you want to see the whole effect," Faith said.

  I slipped into the four-inch heels, shaking my head at Kayla.

  She had a strange expression on her face.

  I stood up, and the dress was light and comfortable. It fell to the floor. I held it up and walked out to show my mother.

  As soon as I stepped out, my mom's hand flew up to her mouth, and Mrs. Mitchell's eyes grew wide.

  I slowly turned faced the mirror. The details of the dress came into view. The ivory brightened my brown skin. The fabric clung in all the right places. The lace framed my cleavage in a way that was sexy and classy at the same time. I looked amazing.

  I burst into tears.

  "Oh, my God," Kayla said as she rushed to my side.

  "Carrington," my mother said as she struggled to extract herself from the plush couch. "Why are you crying?"

  "I ... don't ... know," I said between sobs.

  Kayla held my hand and shook it.

  "Car, look at how beautiful you look," Kayla said.

  She turned my face to the mirror, and she was right. Even my uncontrollable weeping didn't detract from the beauty of the simple dress. I looked around, thankful that Ellen and Faith had found her way out of the room.

  A stressed-out weeping bride, a pissy red-headed maid of honor and the mother and mother-in-law of the bride downing champagne at ten o'clock in the morning would make me run for the hills too.

  Needless to say, I was not ready for wedding dress shopping.

  However, I wasn't sure why I was so upset. We chalked it up to the stress of the season.

  Over lunch, we all tried our best to forget the disastrous morning. More champagne helped. The moms wanted to ask, but they knew better, and I appreciated that about them. They knew my precarious mental state was not up for discussion.

  We stuck to safe topics—the game, Jack's schoolwork, and Kayla’s next event.

  No one mentioned the wedding or wedding plans. It was a dead issue as far as they were concerned. It made me sad because no one was really surprised, either.

  We returned to the house around two o'clock. I stepped out on the driveway and watched them all file in the front door.

  My phone beeped.

  Jackson: On my way, need anything?

  My heart sank.

  Not a proper response.

  Then I panicked all over again.

  I didn't want to see him. I wasn't sure I could control myself, and if I broke down, with the game so close, it would throw him off, and I owed him better than that.

  I looked up at the house and then up and down the street. I couldn't move. My little house seemed too small; the noise spilled out onto the front porch and made me nauseous. My heart beat out of my chest, and my breath was shallow and ragged.

  "Kayla."

  She circled me, and her eyes grew wide. She reached out, but I backed away.

  "I need a minute." I inhaled and exhaled.

  "Listen, go. I got this. They won't even know you’re gone," Kayla said.

  I looked back at the house. From the backyard, Jack's laugh echoed in my head. I couldn't let him see me like this.

  I jumped back into Jackson's truck and sped down my street the opposite direction of where Jackson would be coming from. I saw Kayla's frown before I turned the corner and disappeared out of sight. I drove a few blocks before I allowed myself to breathe.

  Thirty minutes later, I was back in Scottsdale checking myself into a suite at the Royal Palms hotel.

  When the front desk asked me how long I’d be staying, I told them one night.

  That's how long I had to figure out my life.

  I hoped it was enough.

  Chapter 10

  As I walked through the hotel, the covered pathways offered intermittent shelter from the sun, but the heat hadn't broke—it was still Arizona in December.

  I peeked out over the gardens and spotted Camelback Mountain. It had a similar view as our plot of land in Paradise Valley. The thought made me smile. Jackson's intentions were pure, and I ruined it.

  He wanted to build a life with me.

  About this time, he would be peppering Kayla for information since I hadn't answered his last text.

  The hotel kept the Christmas decorations festive but minimal, sticking to the resort’s Southwestern theme. I entered my room and took in the bright decor. I flopped on the four-poster bed and stared up at the red and black canopy. It matched the comforter.

  As I sat up, I took in the living area off to the side of the bedroom. It spilled out onto the covered patio.

  My phone rang in my purse. I fished it out and checked the caller id. It showed a photo of Jackson and me. We had taken the selfie in front of my house shortly after he proposed. I looked happy.

  I declined the call, set the phone down, and went into the bathroom to wash my face.

  I grabbed my notebook and a pen and headed outside to the balcony.

  I had always been a list girl. I had a few hours to figure out my life, so I might as well get started.

  After free writing for forty minutes, I read over the list, highlighting my roles as wife, mother, philanthropist, and advocate for victim's rights.

  I flipped through the pages again realizing I forgot one.

  What about lawyer?

  My brain hurt, so I stood up and stretched. I grabbed some water from the mini bar and some gummy bears and stared off at the mountain.

  I wondered if our bedroom would have this view.

  I went back to my list and was interrupted again by the phone ringing. It was Jackson again. When he ringing stopped, the phone beeped to let me know he had left a message.

  I picked up the phone, put it on speaker, and played the message:

  Hi, Carrington. I'm trying to be understanding and give you space even though part of me wants to tell you to snap out of it. We are so blessed, but I know it's not so easy for you to recognize that at times.

  So let me tell you how blessed I am.

  I have a hot ass woman who loves me. She is beautiful and kind and smart and a little dirty, all the things I love in a woman but didn't know until I met her. She gets me, and I get her, so if she needs to run away for an hour or a day, I'm cool with that. I know she'll come back.

  I'm sitting in your house, watching our families laugh and enjoy each other because that's what families do. Jack has a few additional to his Christmas List by the way. It all seems so normal. Only thing missing you.

  I’m staring daggers at Kayla because she won't tell me where you are, and I know she knows, but I respect the fact she is a good friend to you. She has never given you a reason to mistrust her.

  I wish I could say the same.

  Tears fell from my eyes as I heard the anguish in his voice.

  I'm blessed because, despite what you’re going through, baby, I know you'll figure it out and come back to me. You love me, and you will learn in time that I won't stop loving you, so stop trying to make me. It won't work. I'm heading to the team hotel, but if you need me tonight or tomorrow or fifty years from now, I’ll be there for you.

  I love you. Talk to you soon.

  I listen to the message again.

  After the third time, I tap out a text message to Jackson.

  Carrington: Royal Palm Hotel, Scottsdale, Room 2009

  I checked my reflection in the mirror. My eyes were dark and bloodshot. My nose was puffy from the tears. I needed some sleep. I needed to relax. I needed my Jackson.

  I stepped into the shower. The hot water helped to clear my head, but the emotions of my life boiled up to the surface, and I couldn't stop them. I didn't know how long Jackson would take, but I knew he would come. I exited the shower and slipped into the plush robe. I didn't have any other clothes.

  I went back to my notebook.

  I had scribbled Mitchell Foundation in block letters across one of the pages.

  I had so much fun planning the team charity event. After what I had been through, that one-month was more fulfilling than the years I’d spent as a lawyer.

  Jackson and I talked about starting the Mitchell Foundation. I needed to be a Mitchell first. I drew a circle around it a few times before closing the notebook.

  I went outside on the balcony, and I peered over the side, but I couldn't see the entrance below.

  I went back inside and sat down on the bed. I ran my hand up and down the comforter; it was soft and thick. I fell back with a thud.

  I hated waiting.

  I paced a few more times and checked my reflection in the mirror. The shower helped relieve some of the stress. My decision helped, too, but the longer it took Jackson to arrive, the more anxious I became.

  I flinched at every sound. The room grew smaller as the minutes ticked away.

  I stared at the clock on my phone. I sent the text an hour ago; where was he?

  I knew with all my heart and soul that he would show up. I had to believe it. I needed reassurance that our connection was stronger than ever. I needed the security of our bond to do what I needed to do.

  He would come, and he would support me or tell me I was crazy and support my craziness. He had up until now, so I saw no reason for him to stop now.

  I gasped when I heard the booming knock at the door.

  Chapter 11

  I took a second and looked around. I stood, wringing my hands. I wiped under my eyes and crossed the room to open the door.

  I pulled it open slowly, shielding myself behind the door as it opened. When I had it halfway, I peeked around the door, and there he was. My Jackson.

  His stoic faced couldn't hide the dark emotion in his eyes.

  I pulled the door open and stepped to him. I wrapped my arms around his waist and breathed him in. He had showered recently, and his clean, masculine scent made me sigh. His button-down shirt and slacks were wrinkled already.

  He wrapped his arms around my back and walked me back into the room as he held me close. The door closed behind us. He bent over and buried his nose in my hair and inhaled and sighed back. We were like two dogs reacquainting ourselves by smell.