Chapter 22
twenty-two
MARILEE
“Jordan?”
He’s gone still beside me.
“Hey.” I wait until he’s looking at me. “Whatever it is, it’s okay.”
He gives me a small smile—one that doesn’t reach his eyes—and then stands, holding out his hand to help me up. “We should get going back to our tent. Pack up. Get back to town.”
Back to reality.
“Yeah, okay.”
We both gather our packs and silently pick our way down the rock to the path. It winds to the bottom of the waterfall and another few miles through the trees, and we follow the loamy forest floor as it weaves. The sun’s hidden here, the branches overhead choking out its rays, and I find myself shivering again—though not just because of the breeze that’s kicked up.
It takes him a while, but finally, Jordan speaks. “After I left you that night, I did something I swore I’d never do.”
I stop and squint at him. He’s so solemn, and if I know Jordan, he needs me to remind him to laugh, even when things are hard. “Please don’t tell me you murdered someone.”
“I wanted to.”
Oh. Donny. Right. I start walking again. “Did you deface a building?”
“No.”
“Kick a puppy?”
“What? No, of course not!”
“I get that reaction over kicking a puppy but not murdering someone?” I tease, gripping the straps of my backpack and looking over at him. “Where are your priorities, Jay?”
“Hey, when we’re watching thriller movies, you’re the one who’s always way more concerned about one of the animals dying than the people. Remember when we watched that opening scene of the original Twister movie, and you said ‘at least the dog didn’t die’ when the girl’s dad gets sucked up by the tornado?”
“What? I was glad the dog didn’t die.” I stop at the sight of a huge stick on the path, pick it up because it reminds me of something Ryder would snatch. “Besides, this is why I watch romcoms. People don’t die in romcoms.”
“Except that creepy zombie movie you insist is a romcom but is literally filled with dead people.”
“Are zombies really dead, though? And Warm Bodies is totally a romcom!” I jab the air with the stick, and Jordan snatches it from my hands.
“Whoa there, Braveheart. Settle down.” Laughing, he tosses the stick aside, much to my protest. “Thanks, Lee. I needed that.”
“Feel better?”
“I do, actually.”
“Ready to tell me what terrible, terrible thing you did?”
Stopping along the side of the trail, he sticks his hands into his pockets and leans against a massive tree. “I went to a bar one town over and got completely wasted.”
Oh, Jay. To him, with a father like his, that would be worse than almost anything. Copying his position, I face him. “Okay.” I hate that my actions turned him to drink. But this isn’t about me. It’s about him, and I want to hear him out, however painful it is.
His chest rises and falls more rapidly than before. “That bar…that night.” Jordan glances up into the treetops as if trying to find the light. Then his eyes settle back on me. “That’s where, and when, I met Georgia.”
Oh, peanut brittle.
But the timing tracks. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before. Probably I was just so lost in my own grief…
He continues. “We were both sitting at the bar, both drinking to drown our sorrows—hers over a recent breakup. I felt like I’d lost you too, like all hope of ever seeing you happy again was gone. Like I’d endangered our friendship. And I just wanted it all to go away, you know? The pain. And here was someone who seemed to understand. Who wanted to help me escape. Who wanted to escape herself.”
I swallow, throat thick with emotion. “So, you…?”
“I’m not proud of it, but yeah. It was mutual and all that, but I still can’t help but feel like I used her. I was drunk, but I was still aware enough to know I was acting like the kind of guy I never wanted to be.” He swipes a hand along his forehead, under the brim of his hat. “The next morning, she was gone from our hotel room, and I thought I’d never see her again. Then six weeks later, she showed up in town and told me about Ryder.”
“And you stepped up.”
“I did what any decent guy would do.”
“That’s not true, though. A lot of guys would have let her do things on her own, but you changed your whole life to accommodate that little boy.”
“And that little boy has been the biggest blessing in my life. I can’t imagine not having him. Which is why it scares me, this thought that I might lose him.”
“You won’t.” I step forward, grab his hand. “We did everything we could to make sure that won’t happen, remember?”
“Thanks to you.” His fingers trail up my arm and find a home against my cheek as he searches my eyes for something. “Lee, if this changes how you feel about me?—”
“What? Of course it doesn’t.” Lifting up on my tiptoes, I give him a kiss. One filled with promise. “It honestly makes me love you more.”
He steps into the gap between us and crushes my mouth with his before hauling me into his arms. I wrap my legs around him as he backs me up against the tree, kissing me until a gentle rain starts falling. Raindrops dance on my cheeks and weave into our hair, mingling with our laughter as it escapes between kisses. Each soft patter on the ground is drowned out by the sound of our hearts, and the air is invigorating, cleansing us of our doubts and fears. I am alive, vulnerable, and utterly cherished in Jordan’s arms.
“Ready to go home?” he finally says.
It’s not the first time he’s asked me that question. The last time was after our wedding, when things between us were so fragile and new.
They’re still new now, but there have been so many confessions between us since then. Instead of our past mistakes coming between us, revealing them has only strengthened our bond. “So ready,” I say.
An hour later, we’re in his truck, headed back down the mountain to fetch my car from the hotel, when Jordan’s phone starts going crazy with texts and voicemails finally coming through. He laughs. “Think I should advertise the lack of reception for potential tour takers?”
“I’m not sure. It’ll be a turnoff for certain clients and a bonus for others.”
“True.” His phone is nestled in a car mount attached to his truck’s air vent, and Jordan frowns as his eyes flick back and forth between the phone and the road. “Sorry, can you check these for me? My mom texted me a whole bunch.”
“Oh no. Yeah, sure.” I grab his phone and input his pin, something Donny never gave me for his own devices. A flood of texts from various sources swoop in my vision.
Landon
Bro, way to go! That guy deserved what he had coming to him.
Lucy
Are you guys okay? Is Mare? She’s not answering her phone either, but I saw the video. I hate Donny. CALL ME.
Claire
Um, did you know you’ve gone viral? Check out this link.
Mom
Honey, there’s news with the custody case. Please call when you can.
Samuel Granger
We need to talk. Now.
“Oh no,” I breathe, my chest tightening with each text I read.
“What?” Jordan’s hands tighten on the steering wheel. “What’s going on, Lee?”
I click the link in Jordan’s sister’s message, and it pulls up a video someone posted to social media. It already has 1 million views and climbing. It’s labeled The Hottest That’s My Wife Moment Ever , and it’s footage of the restaurant on Friday night. I can’t hear what Donny’s saying, but I can see the contorted rage on Jordan’s face as he shoves Donny back, can hear “that’s my wife ” spoken in a raw, menacing tone that is so opposite of Normal Jordan that I almost wouldn’t believe it had happened if I hadn’t been there.
This is bad. This is so, so bad.
“Is that…?” Jordan’s skin goes pale.
“The good news is…you’re famous!” I try for a chuckle as I wiggle the phone at him. “The bad news is…well, I’m not sure. Your mom said to call because there’s something new about the case. And your attorney left a very terse text. Oh, and look, a voicemail too.”
“Play it, Lee. Please.”
I press the speaker button and play Sam’s message. “Hi, Jordan, this is Sam Granger.” His voice, so genial the few times we met, is now clearly filled with annoyance. “It’s Saturday evening, and I don’t know where you are or what you’re doing, but your custody case just got a lot more difficult to win.” The man huffs out a loud sigh. “There’s the little matter of this video that I’m sure you’ve seen. It doesn’t look good, but we can probably explain it away. But then… Look, I understand that you felt desperate, but I didn’t mean for you to get married under false pretenses.”
My eyes widen, and Jordan curses under his breath.
“And I’m your attorney. I would have advised against it, but once it was done…I just would have rather had the information ahead of time and not been blindsided. But I got a notice today from the Comers’ attorney that they’ll now be seeking full custody?—”
“WHAT?” Jordan roars.
“—because they claim to have proof, both in writing and because of some overheard conversation in a bowling alley, that your marriage is fake.”
Bowling alley? Oh no. I shrink in my seat.
“Give me a call and we’ll figure this out. Our biggest hurdle is Judge Terpstra, who was new to the area when we first spoke but has had a chance to try a few cases since then. Turns out he’s a stickler for two things: honesty and non-violence. So, we’ve got our work cut out for us. And before you ask, no, we can’t delay the case. I know his clerk personally, and she said he won’t reschedule cases because he wants kids to be in limbo for as short a time as possible. Okay, I think that’s everything for now. Call me and we’ll meet up to discuss the best course of action.”
The message shuts off, and I just stare at Jordan. I can’t speak, can’t swallow. I’m drowning with a lack of breath to my lungs.
Because Jordan might legitimately lose Ryder, and it’s all my fault.