Chapter Thirty-Eight #2
I curled into him again, my forehead resting against his collarbone. “I’m scared,” I admitted. “And I’m so fucking tired of being scared.”
“I know,” he said, holding me tighter. “This part — the waiting — is often the hardest. But you have me. Through every step. Okay?”
He kissed the top of my head.
“And here’s what I want you to remember. Right now, your only job is to take care of yourself. Sleep. Eat when you can. Breathe. Let the professionals handle the process. Let me handle what I can.”
I pulled back just enough to look at him. “You’re really okay with all of this? The suspension and the fallout and…” I waved my hand. “All of it?”
His mouth curved into a small, steady smile.
“I’ve lived with worse consequences for doing nothing,” he said. “This? This is me doing the right thing.”
I leaned into his palm when he touched my face.
“None of this erases your life, either, Ari. This was a dark chapter, but you get to decide what happens next. The pen is back in your hands.”
I nodded slowly, letting his words settle.
“Okay,” I whispered.
He brushed his thumb beneath my eye. “Okay.”
“I keep wondering how all of this works with me filing for divorce.”
Shane’s expression softened. “That’s a really fair thing to be thinking about,” he said. “Especially right now.”
“Does everything happening slow it down? Or… complicate it?”
“In some ways, yes,” he said honestly. “In others, it actually gives you more protection.”
I looked up at him.
“I mean, obviously I don’t know what will happen. But from my experience… I have an idea,” he said. “The league investigation and the criminal side — if it goes that direction — are separate from family court. Different systems, different timelines. But they talk to each other in indirect ways.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning the court isn’t going to ignore the fact that there are active allegations of abuse, intimidation, and coercive control,” he said. “Especially if there’s documentation, witnesses, or findings from an independent investigator.”
My shoulders sagged a little in relief.
“So what happens first?” I asked.
“You file,” he said. “As soon as you’re ready.”
“So, tonight?”
He smirked, thumbing my jaw. “Your attorney will likely request emergency or temporary orders right out of the gate — things like financial support, exclusive use of the marital home, no-contact provisions. Judges take those requests very seriously when safety is involved.”
“Would they… expedite it?” I asked.
“Not the entire divorce,” he said carefully. “Divorce is still divorce. But the protective pieces? Yes. Those can move fast. Days, sometimes.”
I swallowed. “And the prenup?”
His jaw tightened slightly, like it pissed him off that Nathan ever made me sign one.
“Prenups aren’t untouchable,” he said. “If there’s evidence you signed under duress, emotional coercion, misinformation, or while being actively manipulated — especially if abuse can be established — then parts of it can be challenged. ”
“Parts,” I repeated.
“Sometimes all of it,” he said. “Sometimes just the sections that leave one party vulnerable. It depends on how it was drafted and what can be proven. But courts don’t love agreements that were designed to trap someone.”
I felt something loosen in my chest.
“And financially?” I asked quietly. “I don’t want his money — but I also don’t want to be… stuck.”
“You won’t be,” Shane said without hesitation. “Temporary spousal support exists for exactly this reason. So someone can leave safely and get back on their feet without being punished for surviving.”
I closed my eyes for a second, the words settling in.
Leave safely.
Get back on my feet.
For the first time, my thoughts slipped past the fear and exhaustion and landed somewhere unexpected. I pictured choices, a schedule that belonged to me, going back to school if I wanted, taking a job without asking permission.
I imagined a life that didn’t require constant calculation or apology.
Freedom that wasn’t borrowed.
Freedom that was mine.
The realization was almost dizzying, a small, bright thread woven through the dark chaos of the night.
“And if he’s suspended?” I asked. “Or charged?”
“That actually strengthens your position,” he said. “It limits his leverage. It shifts power away from him. And if he tries to retaliate, stall, or intimidate you through the divorce, that becomes evidence.”
I let out a slow breath. “So I don’t have to wait for everything else to finish.”
“No,” he said gently. “You don’t have to put your life on hold until the world catches up. You can move forward while the investigations run in parallel.”
I stared at the ceiling, absorbing it all.
“I hate that this is my life,” I admitted.
“I know,” he said softly. “But here’s the part I want you to hold onto — this isn’t you fighting him alone in a vacuum. There are systems in place now. There are eyes on him, and he’s going to have to take accountability one way or another.”
He brushed his thumb along my arm.
“And you’re not asking for special treatment,” he added. “You’re asking for safety. Courts understand that distinction.”
My throat tightened. “I don’t want this to turn into another long war.”
“It doesn’t have to,” he said. “Especially if the truth keeps coming out, and I have a feeling there are more people involved who will want to save their own asses, so they’ll be truthful about Nathan and what he’s been up to.
And most people like him don’t want their lives examined under fluorescent lighting.
My bet is he’ll do what he can to settle quickly. ”
That earned a weak, breathless laugh from me.
“I’ll help you find the right attorney,” he added quickly. “Someone trauma-informed. Someone who knows how to protect you without dragging you through hell.”
I met his eyes. “You don’t have to do all of this.”
“I know,” he said. “But I want to.”
I rested my forehead against his chest. “I’m so tired.”
“I know,” he whispered. “And you don’t have to solve the rest of your life tonight.” He kissed me gently. “One step at a time, Ari. Tonight, you’re safe. Tomorrow, we start building the exit.”
My head was swimming, but I felt the muscles along my spine relax marginally now that I had at least a vague idea of what would happen next. I cuddled into Shane more, hooking my leg up over his hip so his thigh was between mine, his arms wrapping me up, my head against his chest.
We lay like that for a long while, my eyelids growing heavy as his fingers drew lines and circles on my skin.
And as the heaviness of the night drained away, heat slipped in to take its place.
My heart picked up its pace in my chest as my body catalogued every place we touched. A spark of electricity zipped through me, making me squirm against Shane, my hips rolling. His warm thigh gave just the briefest shot of friction to my clit, and my breath caught.
“Ari…” Shane warned, his hands tightening on my hips. But he didn’t stop me. He rolled with me, helping me find that sweet build of electricity. “I thought you said you were tired.”
“Not too tired to touch you,” I said breathlessly. “Not when I’ve waited decades to feel you like this again.” And then my arms were hooking around his neck and pulling his mouth down to meet mine.