Chapter 37
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Wyatt
After lingering far too long in the tub, we finally dry off and head to bed, though I doubt either of us will sleep.
Cleo’s already emailed through the statement, detailing everything that happened that night in Vegas. It’s hard, knowing something so personal is about to be made public. But if it shuts down the lies this woman’s trying to spread, I’ll say whatever needs to be said.
I just hope it’s enough. At least this way we’re putting the truth out there first. Now all we can do is wait.
We’re lying in bed, Ivy’s head resting against my chest, when she suddenly lifts herself up.
“I know I said I wasn’t mad, but the more I think about it, the angrier I get.”
My stomach twists. “Ivy-”
“How fucking dare this woman, Wyatt!” she says, sitting up straight. “She thinks she can just show up and destroy everything we have. I’ve waited my whole damn life for this.”
She gestures between us, her hand trembling slightly. “If she thinks she can just…” Her voice breaks, and I reach for her.
“Hey,” I say, pulling her against my chest. “It’s going to be okay.”
I don’t know if that’s true, but watching her fall apart guts me.
Her breathing comes in short, uneven bursts, and I trace slow circles along her back until the tension starts to ease.
“We can’t let her win, Wyatt,” she whispers, her voice raw. “She can’t.”
My heart swells with love for her, so fierce it almost hurts. “No, baby. She won’t. I promise I’ll fix this. Whatever it takes.”
“God, I hope so.” Suddenly, her eyes widen. “What if you asked Nash to look into her? Cara Livingstone. Maybe he can run her name through the police database or something. We don’t even know if that’s her real name, but it’s worth a shot.”
I look down at her, surprised but impressed. “That’s actually a good idea. I’m not sure how deep Cleo’s digging has gone, but I doubt she’s got access to anything like that.”
“Call him,” she urges. “He might be on duty tonight.”
I nod and press a kiss to her head before reaching for my phone on the nightstand. Finding his number, I hit dial and bring the phone to my ear. It rings for a second before he answers.
“Hey, Wyatt.”
“Hey, Nash. Are you working tonight?”
"No, I’m on the day shift tomorrow. Why? What’s up?”
I spend the next few minutes catching him up on everything that’s happened tonight, and when I’m done, he blows out a breath.
“Jesus, Wyatt. How’s Ivy?”
I look at Ivy, who’s watching me intently, and smile sadly. “Upset.”
Ivy reaches across and tangles her fingers with mine. She lifts our joined hands to her mouth and presses a soft kiss on the back of my hand. I smile.
“Can you run this woman’s details through the police database in the morning, see if it pulls anything up?”
“Sure. Send me over what you’ve got on her, and I’ll see what I can find.”
“Thanks, Nash. I appreciate it.”
“Of course. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
I end the call with Nash, fire off a quick message with all I know about Cara Livingstone and toss my phone on the bed.
“He’s going to look into her tomorrow for us.” I trail off. “God, I hope he finds something and we can out her for the fraud she is.”
Ivy presses herself closer into my side. “I hope so too, Wy.” She sighs. “I guess I won’t be coming to watch you train again tomorrow.”
I look down at her, my heart splintering, hearing the disappointment in her voice.
“It’s up to you, baby. I’d like you to be there. The family section is just players’ families, so no one’s going to give you a hard time.”
“Maybe I’ll wait and see what the backlash is like in the morning,” she says.
I pull her closer and press a kiss to the top of her head. God, I hope Cleo’s statement does what we need it to. Ivy keeps saying she’s fine, but I can see the worry behind her eyes, the uncertainty about what comes next. I’d give anything to take that fear away, but right now, I don’t know how.
As light filters through the blinds, it feels like I’ve been awake all night. I glance down at Ivy curled against my chest, her breathing steady and her eyes closed. I know it took her a while to settle, but I’m relieved she finally managed to get some sleep.
I carefully shift Ivy off my chest and slip out of bed without waking her. Grabbing my phone, I head to the kitchen. Even though it’s on silent, the flood of notifications tells me everything I need to know. The story and the statement are out.
I flick on the coffee machine and settle at the breakfast bar, taking a deep breath before unlocking my screen.
One of the notifications opens straight into chaos.
Photos of me and Ivy are everywhere. Shots from the charity dinner have resurfaced, along with a few of Ivy from yesterday’s training session.
She probably thought she’d gone unnoticed, but someone is always watching, always ready with a camera, even when you wish they weren’t.
As I scroll through, I feel a flicker of relief. Public opinion seems divided. Some people are already calling the marriage story bullshit.
But when I exit social media and search Ivy’s name directly, needing to know what’s really out there, I instantly regret it. The first headline hits me like a punch in the gut.
Everything We Know About Wyatt Brookes’ Mistress, Ivy James.
I clench my jaw, rage simmering just beneath the surface.
As I read further, it boils over. They’re not just going after Ivy, they’re dragging her character through the dirt, bringing her parents into it, even questioning her business.
One line suggests, “Who would trust someone like her to sell them a home, ethically speaking, when she’s involved in wrecking a marriage? ”
It’s absolute horseshit. And I know the second she sees it, it’s going to devastate her.
Despite it being early, I pull up Ashlyn’s number and fire off a message. She’s probably still asleep, but at least she’ll see it as soon as she wakes.
Me: Hey, Ash. Something’s happened and Ivy’s going to need you today.
The only thing out there that’s actually true is my statement.
I’ve got training this afternoon, and I can’t miss it.
I have to leave around twelve and won’t be back until four.
Can you call or FaceTime her while I’m out?
I just don’t want her stuck here alone, spiraling.
I set the phone down on the counter and head for the coffee machine.
Ivy needs sleep. Not just because she’s exhausted, but because as long as she’s asleep, she’s not online reading any of the hate.
Once I’ve poured my coffee, I grab my phone and move into the living room.
Just as I sink onto the sofa, Ash’s name lights up the screen.
I answer with a tired sigh.
“Hey, Ash.”
“Wyatt, I just saw all the crap online after your message. What the hell is going on?”
I fill her in, even though everything’s laid out in the statement we released.
“Jesus,” she mutters. “Has Ivy seen it yet?”
“No. She’s still asleep. I figured you would be too.”
“I was,” she groans. “Ben woke me up going for a damn run.”
I rub my hand over my face. “This is going to wreck her, Ash. She’s going to hate me.”
“She’s not going to hate you,” Ash says, her voice gentler now. “She loves you. That’s obvious to anyone.”
I let out a heavy breath. “Yeah, I know she does. But if this ruins her career…” I trail off, swallowing hard. “She’s not going to stay if my screwed-up past blows up her future.”
Ash doesn’t reply right away, and her silence says more than words. Love only stretches so far when everything’s on the line.
She finally sighs. “As soon as Ben gets back, I’m coming over.”
Relief hits me like a wave. “You are?”
“She’s my best friend. Of course I am. I’ll always show up for her.”
“Thank you, Ash. She’s lucky to have you.”
“She’s lucky to have you too, Wyatt.”
I shake my head, even though she can’t see it. “No. I’m the lucky one.”
“It’s going to be okay.”
“God, I hope so. I can’t lose her.”
“You’re not going to lose her. I’ll be there soon.”
I end the call and let my head fall back against the back of the sofa.
It’s still early, which means Ash might be here before Ivy even wakes up.
Maybe that’s for the best. If she doesn’t want to talk to me after seeing everything online, at least Ash will be here.
I can handle her needing space, but what I can’t handle is her going through this alone because she won’t let me in.
I pray it doesn’t come to that, but the truth is, I have no idea how she’s going to take this.
At some point, I must have dozed off on the sofa. I wake to the sound of a knock at the door. Stretching my arms above my head, I drag myself up and head for the entryway. One glance through the peephole and I smile. Ashlyn.
I open the door and pull her into a hug.
“Thanks for coming. I owe you one.”
She hugs me back tightly. “You don’t owe me a thing.”
As she steps inside, I gesture down the hall. “She’s still sleeping. Coffee?”
“Absolutely. You got any food? I’m starving.”
I chuckle as we head into the kitchen. “Yeah, I can make something. Grab a seat.”
She pulls out a stool at the breakfast bar. “What’s on the menu?”
“I don’t know. What do you want?”
Ash smirks. “I’ve heard you make a mean pancake.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah? Who told you that?”
“That would be me,” Ivy says quietly.
My head snaps around to see her standing behind Ash. I cross the kitchen in a few quick strides and wrap her in my arms.
“You’re awake.” But when I pull back and see her puffy, red-rimmed eyes, my heart twists. “Have you been crying?”
She rests her head on my chest and holds up her phone.
“I shouldn’t have looked,” she whispers.
“Shit, baby.” I exhale. “I’m so sorry.”
She gives me a weak smile, then steps out of my arms and moves to Ash.
“What are you doing here?” she asks, leaning in to hug her.
“Thought you might need a friend,” Ash says, hugging her tightly.
“Thank you,” Ivy whispers, her voice soft with quiet gratitude. “So… you’ve seen it all?”
Ash nods. “Wyatt called me this morning and explained everything.”
Ivy’s eyes flick to mine, her brows pulling together.
“How long have you been up if you had time to call Ash and she’s already driven over?”
I shrug a little, sheepish. “A while. I couldn’t sleep.”
She reaches for my hand, her touch warm.
“You should have woken me.”
I shake my head. “No way. You needed the rest.”
“So did you,” she says. “You’ve got training this afternoon.”
“I don’t care about that,” I say, squeezing her hand. “All I care about is you.”
“I’m okay,” she says quietly.
“You’re not,” I reply, pulling her back into my arms.
She holds on tight, and I can feel it in the way her fingers clutch at my back, she’s anything but okay, no matter what she says.
She leans back just enough to kiss me softly. “Go make your breakfast. I’ll whip up pancakes for Ash and me. If you didn’t sleep, you need something decent in you. I don’t want you getting hurt out there.”
My chest tightens. Even in the middle of all this mess, she’s still thinking about me, still putting me first.
“I love you,” I whisper.
She nods. “I love you too.”