Chapter Sixteen
Maisie
When the front door slams closed, I know he’s left.
My feet are still frozen in place from where he bolted from his bedroom. I couldn’t find the words to speak up and stop him.
I can hardly breathe. My chest’s tight and my head’s dizzy.
Rubbing my sweaty palms down the T-shirt, my vision goes fuzzy.
I’m having a panic attack.
The reality of his words hit me hard. Because even though he understands why I had to leave and focus on what I wanted, his perspective makes a lot of sense too.
I don’t want to look back on my life and regret making work my only priority. If it was all about proving to myself I could stand on my own two feet, I’ve done that. I’ve been hustling to create my own agency, and I did it.
So why am I still working nonstop instead of enjoying the freedom that comes with being my own boss? Although I have an assistant, I could hire more help or take on less work .
Do I use work as an excuse to avoid not being happy in other aspects of my life?
Is it possible Warren’s right about filling a void?
Before coming here, I would’ve said absolutely not.
But when’s the last time I went out with friends where we didn’t talk about our jobs? Or make friends who weren’t in the publishing industry? They’re more like acquaintances if I’m being honest. They only know me in a professional sense, not my personal life.
Would Hayes work less if I asked him to? Go to the theater, travel the world, make friends in other countries.
I honestly don’t know that he would.
But Warren wouldn’t even leave Tennessee for me.
Finally moving my feet, I walk to the kitchen and find the divorce papers I’ve been asking him to sign for years. And there on the last page is his signature.
This is what I wanted and why I came here in the first place.
He… let me off the hook . We had two more dates planned and now it’s… over .
I should be relieved.
But then why does it feel like he ripped out my heart and stomped on it?
I put them back in the manilla folder, grab the rest of my things, change out of his T-shirt, and do the walk of shame back to my parents’ house.
If my mother’s upset with me for not coming home last night, she doesn’t show it. Neither does my father.
They’re at the breakfast table like every morning, and when I wave to them, neither acknowledges that I’m still wearing my dress from last night. And most definitely look wrecked. Mascara rubbed off. Hair in a messy bun.
Tear-stained cheeks.
“Freshen up and come eat, honey,” is all my mother says when I go toward the staircase. “We have some things we need to discuss with you about the weddin’.”
My voice is too hoarse to speak, so I nod, then make my way to my bedroom.
I’m waiting for the reality of what happened to hit me.
That he’s signed the papers and it’s possible I’ll never see him again.
We fought with each other, but he didn’t fight for me the way he said he would.
Didn’t beg me to reconsider his perspective, which I thought about the entire drive home.
Because I do see it and am now questioning everything I thought I knew.
If Hayes and I were madly in love, we’d want to spend more quality time together instead of only coexisting in the same space. We’re basically coworkers, not lovers.
Warren and I could never keep our hands off each other. Physical touch was our love language. That and quality time.
When I’d come home during college breaks and holidays, we were inseparable.
He rarely worked late unless there was an emergency, and if there was, he always insisted on making it up to me.
Even for those few months after I graduated and we lived in a trailer behind his parents’ house, we ate dinner together every night and spent the rest of the evening glued to each other’s sides.
Sometimes we’d go out, other times we’d stay in, but it didn’t matter because as long as I was with him, I was happy.
And maybe that scared me.
Maybe I thought I had to run off and work toward a goal so I wasn’t dependent on yet another person. My parents made sure I was dependent on them, never allowed me to get a job, and my husband offered me the same privilege. He wanted to take care of me. But I didn’t want to feel trapped.
I’d heard of women in their forties or fifties who suddenly were on their own after years of raising babies and taking care of the households to be left for a younger version of themselves.
They had nothing to show for their lives because they hadn’t worked and even a college education wasn’t enough to get them employment.
I knew I had my parents’ money as a backup if I were to ever end up in that situation, but that’s the thing—I didn’t want to depend on their money.
I wanted to do things myself and prove I was capable.
They never let me try. Everything was handed to me.
I needed to be able to look myself in the mirror and make myself proud.
Marrying Hayes won’t change that. I doubt anything would change between us. He’d rather go on a book tour than plan our honeymoon.
Once I’ve showered and changed into clean clothes, I dig around my old bookshelves for a box I know I stored in there. Behind my books, I find it.
I decorated the lid when I was fifteen. It’s covered in glitter glue and mini polaroids with the words MAISIE + WARREN 4 EVER written in the center. It’s adorable but has definitely seen better days.
Carefully removing it, my heart squeezes at what’s inside. It’s been years since I’ve looked through it.
We couldn’t use our phones in class, so we’d write each other little notes and pass them between blocks.
We took a million selfies and photos from dances.
There has to be a dozen movie stubs from the drive-in and movie theater in another town.
Being under twenty-one, there wasn’t much to do outside of the ranch or resort.
It’s basically a time capsule. When life was simple and loving each other came easy.
I unfold one of the notes and realize it’s the piece of paper he wrote his vows on.
Maze,
You know when it’s been raining for days and you feel down because the weather’s so gross?
Then it finally ceases, the clouds clear the sky, and the sun beams down on your skin for the first time in a week.
You inhale the country air, and the smell of spring flowers and freshly mowed grass hits your senses.
Calmness rushes through you as the view in front of you takes your breath away.
That’s how I feel every time I look at you.
You captivate me.
You make me breathless.
You remind me there’s always something to look forward to during the gloomy days because the sun always returns, and when it does, it comes in the form of unconditional love and happiness. And that’s you.
I can’t imagine my life without you in it and I hope I never have to.
You’re my whole world and I’ll never stop loving you .
This isn’t till death do us part.
It’s until the next lifetime where you and I exist together.
I will always seek you out, no matter who or where I am.
You’re my soulmate now and for eternity, wherever that exists, I’ll always wait for you.
The sleeve pressed against my face is soaked by the time I finish reading.
How the hell did I let him go?
Warren’s words are as true today as they were seven years ago on our wedding day. It’s why he chose being alone over moving on. He’d rather wait until we find each other again in another life than be happy with someone else in this one.
I flip through a few more photos, smiling as the memories resurface and remembering how good things were then.
I don’t know if we can rewrite history, start fresh, and try to get it right a second time, but as Warren said—I don’t want to look back on my deathbed and wonder about the what-ifs. I’d regret it forever.
Once I’ve wiped my face and put everything back in the box, I head downstairs to meet my parents. Dad’s reading the news on his phone and Mom’s flipping through a magazine, barely touching her food.
“Darlin’, I found the perfect shoes for you to wear with your reception dress. Let me know what you think…” She reaches for her phone without making eye contact.
One wedding dress wasn’t enough for my mother. No, I needed a ceremony gown and a reception dress, which means two sets of shoes and jewelry to go with each.
I sit across from her, pushing in my chair as the chef sets my plate down in front of me.
“Thank you,” I murmur, but my appetite is gone.
“How stunnin’ are these Louboutins?” She holds up a photo of sparkling strappy ankle heels. “They’re gorgeous on their own but won’t take away from your dress.”
“They’re nice,” I say, picking at the fruit in front of me. “I’m not sure I’ll need ’em, though.”
“Of course you will. The other shoes are flatter, so you’ll want a heel with the silkier dress. It’ll accent your legs, too.”
“I meant because I’m not sure there’s gonna be a weddin’, Mama.”
My dad finally acknowledges me and lowers his phone long enough to gape at me. “Whaddya mean?”
“I told Hayes I’m still married…” Since my father doesn’t know I’ve been spending the past week with Warren, I tread carefully on how to tell him.
“Why would you do that?” Mom snaps. “You said Warren was gonna sign the papers.”
I swallow down the blade lodged in my throat. “He did.”
“Then what’s the issue?” Dad asks.
“I don’t wanna sign ’em,” I admit.
“Don’t be foolish, Maisie.” Mom tsks, reaching for her mimosa. “This is what you wanted. You’re engaged to Hayes.”
“I’m aware,” I bite out. “But I learned he knew I was married this whole time because he hired a PI when things were becomin’ serious. He never said anythin’.”
“He did a background check on you?” My dad’s brow lifts.
When I nod, my mom waves him off. “So what?”
“So he proposed to secretly push me to get divorced instead of tellin’ me he knew and wanted me to do it.”
“He doesn’t wanna share you, sweetie. Can you blame him?”
“People who love each other aren’t supposed to lie to one another, Mom. We both kept secrets from one another for three years.”
“Yeah, but it’s not that big of a deal. He wants you to be his wife, not some other man’s. That’s understandable.”
“What else did he find on you?” Dad asks.
“As far as I know, that’s it. Why?”
“Does he know about your trust fund?”
I take a sip of my water before my mouth goes dry. “I never told him, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t know about it or at least assume I have one. I haven’t touched it myself.”
“You may wanna let him know so he’s not surprised when he sees it in the prenup,” Dad says.
“What prenup?”
This is the first time I’m hearing of one.
“I suggested our lawyer write one up,” he states. “Considerin’ how long it took to get Warren to sign the papers, I don’t want you goin’ through that again.”
“He’s never gonna sign that,” I blurt. “He’s old-fashioned as it is.”
“Sure he will.” Mom grins confidently. “It protects him, too.”
“Considerin’ his IP and copyrighted works, he won’t wanna put that at risk, so if he wants to marry you, he’ll agree to protectin’ both of your assets.”
“That…” I shake my head, unable to comprehend this. “That ain’t a marriage. Separatin’ things as if we’re already on the verge of splittin’ up. Why bother at that point?”
“Honey, it has nothin’ to do with how you feel for each other. But you both had lives before enterin’ each other’s, and there’s nothin’ wrong with protectin’ it.”
“Warren didn’t go after it. What makes you think Hayes would?”
“Well…” Mom snickers. “Warren isn’t Hayes.”
Exactly .
“Warren’s entitled to half of it, though, right? We never signed a prenup.”
“Our lawyers would make sure his claim never saw the inside of a courtroom. If he went that route, he’d risk his family’s ranch.”
“You’d go after ’em?”
“If he contested the divorce, yes. We’d fight and keep him in court for longer than he could afford.”
“Daddy!” I drop my fork.
“It’s not personal, sweetheart.”
“It is to me!”
“Does it matter anyway?” Mom shrugs. “He signed the papers and once they’re filed, it’ll only take a couple months to go through, and you’ll be in the clear for the weddin’ date.”
It matters because I’m realizing how heartless my parents truly are. Warren has every right to contest the divorce to get his fair share and for them to so easily threaten his family’s livelihood doesn’t sit right with me.
Warren wouldn’t anyway, so it’s hypothetical, but my parents’ true colors are alarming.
“I’m callin’ it off,” I blurt when my parents are in the middle of a discussion. “Cancel everythin’.”
Mom’s gaze shifts to me with deep frown lines around her lips. “Maisie…let’s not be rash. ”
“I’m not marryin’ another man while being in love with someone else.”
“You’re what?” Dad raises a brow, seemingly unaware. “Since when?”
I shift uncomfortably but then straighten my spine to tell him the truth. “I think I always have been. Long before I came back here. But it took a few days to realize it.”
Mom purses her lips, disapproving of my outburst. “She’s been spendin’ time with him.”
“Warren?”
“Yes, Daddy. Every night since last weekend.”
“Oh.” He meets my mom’s eyes and they share a look. “Does Hayes know this?”
“Yes, and he basically told me to make a decision by the time he arrives on Saturday or he’d make it for me.”
“Apologies for interruptin’, sir, but you have a call.” One of the housekeepers reluctantly enters the dining room. “In your office.”
When he leaves, I’m ready to bolt too.
“Hayes will be here in two days. Don’t make any decisions until you see him,” Mom says, lowering her voice. “It’s easy to reminisce with an old flame when it’s the two of you. But you’ll remember how much you love Hayes too once he’s here.”
Doubtful . But I nod anyway, no longer in the mood to argue.
That doesn’t mean these two days can’t continue as planned.
Warren still owes me two dates and I’m going to make sure he follows through.