Chapter 45 Catharsis
CATHARSIS
CASSIDY
I’m still trying to wrap my head around the idea of Ren no longer playing hockey. Obviously, I knew at some point he’d age out, but the fact he decided to walk away sooner, without so much as a conversation, was a shock to everyone, him included.
But that’s Ren. Once he makes a decision, he runs with it.
Of course, all of his grand gestures and husband-of-the-year antics has me feeling increasingly guilty about how he ended up stuck with me in the first place.
I always thought I would have no issue taking it to the grave with me, but the deeper I’ve gotten in our relationship, the worse I’ve felt about my previous duplicitous dealings.
I’ve been sitting in the chair in our bedroom for what feels like hours, mindlessly flipping through a magazine, but really all I’ve done is coach myself on how I’m going to get out of this still married.
“Out with it, Cass.”
Ren’s statement startles me, so I blink a few times before asking, “What?”
He sighs heavily then responds, “You’ve been staring at me for the last thirty minutes. You’ve sighed at least twice every one of those minutes. So, for the love of it all, just spit it out.”
Grimacing I mutter, “I have a confession.”
“I don’t care,” he deadpans, not one iota of hesitation in his response.
“You’re probably gonna be mad.”
He actually rolls his eyes at me. “Not possible.”
“It’s about our deal.”
“I was right the first time,” he retorts with a low snort. “I don’t care.”
“Come on, Ren,” I exclaim, jumping up from the chair and walking to the middle of the room. “I need to get this off my chest.”
He gives me a long-suffering look, then slowly puts his book on the nightstand, pushes the blanket back, climbs out of bed.
He closes the distance between us, coming to a stop barely a foot from me, then crossing his arms over his chest. “Well go ahead, but I can assure you you’re wasting your time because I don’t care what horrible atrocity you’ve made up in your head, there is literally nothing you could’ve done that would make me mad at you. ”
I believe he absolutely believes every word he’s saying. Which makes this even more difficult because the last thing I want to do at this point in our marriage is disappoint him, even if it was earlier Cassidy who did the tale telling to get her own way.
“You don’t understand, Ren,” I respond, needing him to know, to understand my deep treachery, so I can get on with my life with my conscience fully clear. “When we made that de—”
“Fuck the deal,” he interrupts, his hands moving to cup my cheeks, forcing me to meet his gaze. “How many times do I have to say that?”
My hands lift, grip his wrists; not to pull him away, but to anchor him to me. “Please, I have to tell you.”
“I already know,” he whispers.
“What?”
“I know,” he replies. “I’ve known for a while.”
Surely we’re not talking about the same thing. Because if we were there’s no way he’d still be standing here in front of me.
Wanting me.
Loving me.
Shaking my head, a tear escapes, leaving a cool trail down my cheek as I stare up at him.
I yank at his wrists, now trying to rip myself from his grasp, but he holds on, refuses to let me hide.
My knees wobble, suddenly unable to hold me upright, but still, he holds on, just follows me to the ground.
One last attempt to shake him loose, but he adjusts his grip, his hands moving so his arms are wrapped around me, my cheek pressed against his chest. He’s shushing me, rocking me soothingly, and suddenly, I feel all kinds of silly. “What are you doing?”
His sigh flutters my hair. “Just chillin’.”
I smack him on his chest slightly harder than playful. “Stop that.”
He says nothing, just tightens his hold on me, his low chuckle a rumble in his chest. I sigh deeply, already feeling lighter, but still needing to be sure we’re talking about the same thing. “How’d you find out?”
“Conrad,” he responds rather flippantly. “I confronted him and he laughed in my face.”
My cheeks heat. “My father knows?”
“Yeah, but he didn’t care at all. It was more like he admired your ability to think outside the box to get your own way.”
“Why didn’t you confront me then?”
“I didn’t want to.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” I retort, completely baffled that he seems so nonplussed about the entire thing.
“It doesn’t have to make sense to you for it to be true,” he explains. “It would’ve been cruel for me to bring it up at that moment, and then I decided it would be stupid to bring it up at all because I wanted you and I had you and I wasn’t going to give you up for anything.”
I mutter to myself incoherently, even as warmth spreads through my chest. Love and understanding take on a whole new meaning at this point in my life, and even as I sit here and mutter to myself under my breath, I’m eternally grateful I managed to snag this guy.
“I have a confession,” Ren murmurs, and my heart stops in my chest.
“Nope,” I respond, shaking my head. “I don’t want to hear it. I don’t care.”
He smiles, his fingers brushing my cheeks gently. “I think you do.”
“No, I really don’t.”
The look he gives me is incredulous, as if he knows I’m just blowing smoke and at some point, I’m going to come back and need to know. We stare each other down, neither one of us wanting to blink first, but after a time I finally do. “Okay. Tell me.”
“There was a fourth addendum.”
Now I frown. “What are you talking about?”
He smirks, seemingly entirely pleased with what appears to be a confession of his own treachery. “I added a fourth addendum.”
“I don’t believe you.”
He sighs, obviously growing exasperated. “Why would I lie?”
“Cause you’re trying to make me feel better about being a dirty liar.”
“I would never,” he responds with a laugh. “I’d prefer to hold it over your head and use it to my advantage for decades.”
Rolling my eyes I swat at his chest. “Liar.”
He hugs me close, his head falling forward so his face is pressed into my hair. “I mean, technically, I didn’t add anything, but I also didn’t try to fix it, so…”
His sentence trails off and I frown, entirely confused as to what he’s on about. “You didn’t add anything?”
He shakes his head, now placing little kisses along my neck. “I fear I’m a big failure in the whole criminal mastermind thing.”
“Then who add—” I cut myself off, eyes narrowing as I whisper-shout, “Declan.”
Ren lifts his head, a fond smile on his lips. “Yup. Fucking Declan.”
“How?”
“How does Declan do anything?” He replies with a shrug. “When I questioned him on it he brushed it off, said it was a wedding present.”
“Dare I even ask what it says?”
“You may dare,” Ren responds. “But don’t blame me for the dramatically threatening wording.”
“The wha—” I begin, but Ren releases me slightly, one arm moving as he reaches for the drawer on the bedside table beside us. He opens it, reaches inside, pulls out a folded-up paper, and hands it to me.
Tentatively, I take it from him, then, slowly, unfold it. I read it over, then read it again before eyeing Ren suspiciously. “Is this for real?”
“Real as real can be.”
I roll my eyes. “There is no way this can be legal.”
“I can assure you; it is. Declan is nothing if not thorough.”
I stare at him, sure I must be missing the punchline here, but then he says, “I can break it down for you, if you want.
“By all means,” I drawl. “Give me the cliff notes.”
He shifts, suddenly, and I fall back against this arm. His free hand moves to my cheek, his fingertips stroking a line down to my jaw before his hands settles lightly on my neck.
He leans in, his voice low as he says, “If at any time Cassidy Logan requests to sever this agreement,” he pauses, his eyes moving from mine to my lips and back again, “She will lose rights to all aforementioned assets, including but not limited to…”
Again, he pauses, but this time he brushes his lips lightly against mine, once, twice, then pulls back, “Her home, her worldly goods, her bank accounts, and,” he sighs, kisses my nose, “Her hockey team.”
He chuckles lightly, rubs his nose against mine before continuing, somewhat dramatically, “She will become homeless, completely destitute, having no other option but to become irrevocably dependent on Rennick Rafferty for her basic survival,” he drifts off, eyes locked with mine and I find I’m holding my breath, transfixed by this little speech ridiculous as it may be.
“And thus,” he whispers, his lips a hairsbreadth from mine, “Cassidy Logan will be tied to Rennick Rafferty for eternity.”
Unable to stop myself, I sigh, practically melting in his embrace. He kisses me then, thoroughly, and I kiss him back even as I question my own sanity.
He kisses me until we’re both breathless then pulls back, the smirk on his face dripping with self-satisfaction. “You like it, don’t you?”
“Penny is gonna sue your ass off,” I retort, only half joking, but Ren just grins and says, “As long as she knows if she sues me, she’s also suing you.”
He gives me another squeeze. “Shall we get off the floor?”
I give a long sigh, roll my eyes. “I suppose.”
He helps me up, presses a kiss to my forehead before moving back to the bed, and I resume my earlier position on the chair. I wait for him to get settled, but he doesn’t bother picking up his book, instead eyeing me eyeing him. “Was there something else Cassidy?”
“Are you still good with quitting hockey?”
“More than good. Looking forward to it.”
I nod, uncertain what else to say since he truly appears to be fine with his decision.
Quiet falls around us, the silence bordering on uncomfortable as we continue to stare at each other.
Me hoping he’s says something and him knowing I’m putting off asking what I truly want to ask about. Finally, he says, “Out with it Cass.”
I wince, swallow several times before managing to ask, “Have you heard from Declan?”
“Yes.”
I stare at him, my pulse jumping in my chest. “What did he say?”
“Cass,” he responds with a sigh. “You know you don’t have to get info from me. You can call Declan. Or Lilith. Or even Darius for that matter.”
“I prefer the separation of having you as a go-between,” I explain. “Assuming you don’t mind being my go-between.”
“Of course I don’t mind. But I don’t want you thinking you can’t inquire on your own if you feel like it.”
“Maybe I will eventually,” I reply, hugging my knees to my chest. “But I need the separation for now.”
“She’s doing well, Cass. Slowly healing, taking it one day at a time.”
“I’m glad,” I whisper, relief settling over me at the news. “Did they tell her I sent all the paperwork back?”
“Yes, and she wasn’t too happy about it to start with, but Lilith talked some reason into her.”
“She decide what she’s going to do with the properties?”
“Darius talked her out of burning them,” Ren answers, a humorless laugh falling between us. “He had to step in because Lilith was all too happy to carry the torches.”
“Sounds like Lilith.”
Ren smiles then adds, “So they went with complete liquidation, and set up a living trust of some sort.”
“That’s probably for the best. The money is hers regardless.”
“Oh,” he begins, then picks up his phone from the bedside table, tapping on the screen before continuing, “My realtor wants to know if she’s allowed to remove the blanket fort from the master bedroom.”
My eyes widen, having completely forgotten about the secret little hideaway Issa and Jessica created for me. I laugh, then respond, “Do we have to take it down?”
He eyes me thoughtfully then asks, “Can we at least touch on why there’s a blanket fort in the master bedroom of my condo?”
Leaning my head back against the chair I laugh. “Issa and Jessica made it for me. As a safe space for ghost stories.”
He inhales deeply then blows out the breath before responding, “Let’s pretend for a moment I fully understand the importance of blanket forts. Am I canceling the sale of my condo to preserve this particular blanket fort?”
I make like I’m seriously thinking over his question, fully intending not to allow for my fort to be dismantled. But then he adds, “We can happily build you a new and improved blanket fort right here. So, keep that in mind when making your decision.”
I know he’ll cancel the sale if I ask him to. He’d keep paying taxes on an extra residence just because it holds a memory I can’t let go of. So I smile, shake my head. “It’s okay. She can take it down and go on with showing it.”
“Are you sure?” he asks, holding his phone out in front of him. “I’ll tell her ‘hands off my wife’s fort’, just say the word.”
“No, it’s okay,” I reiterate, a giggle escaping. “And as you already said. We can make all the blanket forts we want right here.”
He eyes me, giving me a minute to change my mind, then taps out a message and returns his phone to its previous spot. I watch him go about straightening the items on his bedside table, enjoying his little ritual of having each item just-so.
“Cassidy,” his voice pulls my focus from the table to his face, his expression softens as he adds, “Come to bed.”
He doesn’t have to ask me twice. I’m across the room before he’s slid down beneath the blanket, choosing to crawl over him rather than walk around the bed to my side.
He grunts dramatically, as if I’ve pulled some wild wrestling move and attempted to injure him, then rolls toward me as I get settled beneath the blankets.
He pushes on my shoulder until I turn away from him, muttering to myself about how bossy he is, and then he tugs me back so he’s spooning me from behind.
I wriggle my ass in invitation, but he just tightens his hold on me, one of his legs moving over mine, anchoring me in place.
Rubbing his cheek against mine he places a kiss at the corner of my mouth then says, “You behave.”
I fidget for a few minutes, focusing on his breath near my ear, his thumb stroking idly on my bare shoulder where he’s holding me close. His limbs become heavy, his head lolling forward slightly, a comforting weight on the pillow behind me that has me relaxing fully.
And then, secure in his embrace, I smile, close my eyes, and I sleep.