A Brand New Ending (Page 17)

She desperately rifled through the papers and tried to think. “No. I assumed they were mailed to our address in California and you just never sent me a copy. I never needed it. I never thought about it.”

He nodded. “Neither did I. In my mind, we had done the hard stuff. We paid the lawyer and signed paperwork. But recently, I found out the lawyer we used was a fake. He was taking money from clients without ever filing the official documents. It was just a big scam. When the story broke and I realized it was him, I dug a bit deeper and confirmed with the court that we were still legally married.”

“This can’t be,” she whispered. “Isn’t there a recourse for the people he scammed?”

“Unfortunately not. He’ll go to jail or claim bankruptcy and keep our money. If we want to go through with this divorce, we have to start over. Because right now, I’m legally your husband.”

Her lungs seized, and she scrambled desperately for calm. The way he said husband pummeled her back into the past, swirling with memories of raw intimacy, giddy highs, searing pain, and her broken heart that had never fully healed. Her belly tumbled when she thought of still belonging to him, but her traitorous body lit up with anticipation.

Focus. She had to focus on the problem at hand, solve it, and move on. It was the only way to deal with the fallout.

“Okay, so we need to fix this. Fast. Discreetly. No need to panic.”

“I’m not panicking.”

Ophelia frowned, taking in his calm demeanor. He looked almost . . . glad.

Was it because he’d had more time to deal with the shock? Or was he up to something more sinister?

“Good, then we’re in agreement to move forward. Do you have a lawyer you want to use? I’m figuring we have to file again in California, right? I wonder if we have to start the whole thing over, or if we can just refile our papers.”

“It’s been too long, so we start at the beginning. We have a fresh slate.” He was staring at her with a strange intensity.

Why did his words sound like they held a hidden meaning?

There was a predatory aura pulsing around him.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked, gaze narrowed in suspicion. “Is there something else you haven’t told me?”

“I think this was a sign, Ophelia. The story broke the same time I planned to come back home and see you. The script isn’t the only reason I wanted to stay here. Didn’t you ever wonder about us? If we were too young to really understand what we needed from each other? We’ve both grown up and changed. We know who we really are now. And no matter how hard I’ve tried, I haven’t been able to forget you.”

“Don’t.” Her voice broke, but then the anger hit and strength flooded back. “Don’t play games with me. You can’t waltz back to your first girlfriend almost a decade later and decide to try things out again just for the hell of it.”

“Wife. You’re my wife,” he said forcefully. “So yeah. I’ve been thinking about second chances. We spent our childhood together. Fell in love, got married, and tried to build a life. We were each other’s safe place. You want to throw away all of that just because it makes you uncomfortable thinking about what went wrong?”

She gripped the file and practically hissed back, “Are you forgetting how you locked yourself away for days on end, only emerging to kiss your so-called friends’ asses?”

“I had the opportunity to work on a script that became a hit and changed my life. You didn’t give it time. You didn’t give me a chance, or the lifestyle, or your own career. And I think that’s what you’re really mad about, Ophelia. You gave up your singing—your one true dream. Why? What really made you run away?”

Emotion choked her. She never let herself remember. Only in short glimpses. Sharp, rapid scenes that played behind her closed lids late at night, forcing her back. It had been so classic. They had been the perfect trope: young lovers who eloped and tried to conquer fame and fortune, only to be torn apart by the cruel world around them. Except she’d figured out something that could never be fixed—no matter how hard they tried.

The man she loved had blossomed in the land of dreams, but meanwhile, she had crashed into a million pieces. When she looked over, she’d realized he wasn’t around to pick her back up. He’d already checked out long ago, confident they still wanted the same things.

So she’d acted on her only option.

She’d come home.

When she answered, it was with the desolation of knowing how high they’d climbed together, and how completely their relationship had shattered—and way too soon.

“I didn’t run. I finally saw the truth right in front of me. But you still don’t see it, Kyle. You never did. And that’s why it will never work between us.”

Frustration carved out his features. “You’re talking in riddles. The only thing you ever wanted was to be a singer. You were offered that reality-show spot where you could reach millions. The producers and judges loved you! There was buzz at Entertainment Tonight that you were the one to beat. You had it all at your fingertips, but you turned it down because you were scared. Your fear destroyed us.”

Grief pounded at her like violent waves attacking a pier in a storm.

How could she explain how her path had played out, allowing her to clearly see where she was headed? How many times had she tried to talk to him, but he was caught up in his own world, until there was only silence left between them? She’d felt so alone and confused, but he’d refused to see, assuming it was nerves or fear of failure.

It had been so much more.

The fight faded from her body.

He’d never believe the truth. He was still stuck on his side of events and refused to alter his viewpoint. After all this time, why try to convince him otherwise? No, this was a reminder that they could never heal the broken rift between them.

“Believe what you want. It doesn’t change the outcome anymore.”

He flinched, but his lips set in that stubborn line she knew so well, even after all this time. He tilted his head, studying her. “How do you know? It’s still there.”

She stiffened. “What?”

His voice dropped to a low, velvety growl. “Our connection. My body remembers yours. Every inch of your skin is ingrained in my memory. The scent of that lavender-and-honey lotion you wore, and the way your eyes turn to blue fire when you’re mad, and how your smile can make a whole room hold its breath.”

He was killing her, and she was allowing it to happen. Each word was like a knife slicing another cut into her flesh.

He leaned forward, his hands lifted in supplication to drive his point home. “When you got sick and I took care of you, I remembered how we were part of each other. It hasn’t changed for me. Yes, it all fell apart, but we had so much going against us. We ran away and cut our friends and family off, thinking we could do it all alone. We didn’t know what the world would be like, or who to trust, or how to balance our relationship with the need to make a mark. Don’t you think we owe it to ourselves to begin anew? We’re adults now, and we’re married. I’m asking for a chance, Ophelia. As I write my script, I want to get to know you again.”

Hysterics bubbled up from her throat.

This whole conversation felt like Twilight Zone material. Why would she open herself up to more heartache when she already knew the ending?