Chapter Twenty-One #2
The man I married, who took so many of my firsts, who I thought would be my last, says the one thing that puts the final nail in my coffin. “It was never anything personal, Honor. We both know you got plenty of benefits from it.”
Benefits. I know exactly what he’s referring to, but I would give back every single penny that was awarded to me if it meant saving my peace of mind. If it meant not going through a marriage that inevitably broke a part of me, I would give it all up no questions asked.
Bodhi reaches out and cups my hand when he sees me tense. And I hate that Max is right. Hate that I can’t deny it.
I haven’t touched the money I got from the divorce settlement, even though I could have. I could have moved anywhere in the country. Hell. I could have gone anywhere out of the country. If I swallow my pride, I’d have my own place in the city rather than living at my father’s guest house.
My lawyer told me I should have requested more considering my family’s funding in the company that continues to grow, but I didn’t want more money. I didn’t want the boy in front of me to hold it over to my head. Just like he is now.
“Now, now,” Mom cuts back in, reminding me she’s there to watch the pitiful downfall of my dignity. “Fighting won’t get us anywhere.”
I shoot her a look. “Why are you even here? And why did you have to make a scene where I work? You’re banned for life, in case you’re wondering.”
Her eyebrows go up. “Is it a crime to want to see my daughter?”
It is when you’ve never given a shit about me before, I almost say. I catch myself, burying the hate-filled words. “We both know that’s bullshit, so why don’t you try again? Because I highly doubt it’s a coincidence that you and Max are here at the same time.”
They’re both from the city, but Max thrived in Chicago. He insisted he’d never leave, unless it was to go to California where the headquarters of the company that bought out his game is located. He made us move because New York was a “dead end” in his career.
There’s a strategic reason he’s here, and I know my mother is involved somehow. Unless her current man is loaded, something tells me Max is the one who decided to fund her hotel stay.
Mom sighs. “You were always so dramatic for no reason, Honor. Max simply wanted to talk, but you weren’t willing to. I figured I’d help him out. It’s been too long since we’ve seen each other anyway.”
Gawking at the woman who used to tell me I’d regret marrying Max, I slowly shake my head.
“Do you hear yourself? Most parents would cut their children’s exes out of their lives as soon as they hear they broke up, not become buddy-buddy with them.
So why don’t you tell me what you get out of this, Mom?
Because you told me I shouldn’t marry him in the first place, and then you had the nerve to tell me I’d regret ending it. ”
Bodhi shifts toward me, squeezing my hand once to remind me he’s here.
It’s the comfort I need, because I realize that the only reason she’d be here is because Max promised her something.
And I know her well enough to figure out that it’s monetary motive that brought her here, not some deep seeded need for mother-daughter bonding.
“How much?” I ask her, wrapping my fingers around Bodhi’s palm to feel grounded. “How much did Max offer you to get my attention?”
She has the audacity to scoff like it’s an offensive question, but we both know it isn’t. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I turn to Max. “How much was it?” I ask, knowing he’s arrogant enough not to lie to me. He’s always loved flaunting how much money he has, and how easy it is to throw it at his problems.
He’s wearing a watch with diamonds in it for crying out loud. He spends a stupid amount of money on his wardrobe to be tailored and fitted to his body, and everything has to have designer labels. I never cared about that stuff, which was another problem he had with me.
I never wanted to be shown off.
I simply wanted to be me. And I wanted someone who would accept me for that.
Max’s grin comes back in full force. “We both know your mother always had a taste for the material things. It didn’t take much to convince her to come talk to you.”
I look around the lobby. It’s too fancy. Too beautiful for the tainted people currently standing in it. “So this is your doing? All it took was some schmoozing over a five-course meal and unlimited room service in a swanky hotel?”
He simply shrugs. “You forgot the champagne, but yes.”
Nice to know my wellbeing was bought out by luxury sheets and expensive booze.
“You’re not getting anything from me. And if you truly thought you could utilize my mother to convince me otherwise, you never knew me at all.
If you did, you would have realized that she and I aren’t close.
That we barely talk. In fact, I remember her telling me in our last big blowout that she wished she never had a kid because it ruined her life. ”
Bodhi’s hand twitches around mine at the information I’ve never shared with anyone before. He looks down at me, his eyes fierce. “She said that to you?”
I nod bleakly. “I believe she also mentioned making an appointment with Planned Parenthood. One of her many regrets in life was not going through with it.”
His expression drains, and his eyes slowly—and I mean slowly—drift to my mother with judgement and fury. “Do you have any idea what a blessing it is to be a parent?” he asks her. “It’s the best goddamn feeling in the world, and you’ve thrown it away.”
She shrinks a little. “I didn’t mean it. I love my daughter, obviously.”
I can’t help but laugh cooly at that. “You could have fooled me, Mom. Really. How could I possibly have ever doubted you? Or are we forgetting the very beginning of our conversation when you basically told me I don’t deserve to have a life-saving service animal?”
This time, she looks like she actually feels a little bad. “Honor—”
“No” I cut her off, holding up my freehand. I have so much I want to say, but I know I’d be wasting my breath. She’ll never be receptive to any of the hurt she’s caused or accept her hand in it. What’s the point in telling her how I feel?
“I truly hope that this was all worth it, Mom. You always wanted to be a free woman from any responsibility, and now you have it. I’m done. You can wash your hands of me and focus on whatever it is that will make you happy in life.”
I shift my focus back to the man who I let slide a ring onto my finger.
“I’m done with both of you. I will never help you again.
I won’t help get you money or release information or whatever the hell it is you need from me.
And you have some fucking nerve to act like you deserve it.
Like you can still get whatever you want after everything you put me through. How weak do you think I am?”
Max’s composure barely wavers, but I can still see the slight irritation in his eyes. “Our marriage wasn’t that bad, Honor. Come on.”
I roll my eyes. “Of course you didn’t think so. You got everything you wanted, and I was dumb enough to let you. But what about me?”
He shrugs. Shrugs. “What about you?”
I close my eyes, willing myself not to lunge at him. In this moment, I want nothing more than to wrap my hands around his neck and shake him until he’s blue in the face. But he’s not worth it.
Then he says, “In order for me to get my next game going, I need to get the okay from the league to use some of the new rookie’s names and numbers. And your father can—”
You know what? I take it back.
I’m not a violent person. Unless it involves vending machines taking my quarters when I have a headache and desperately need soda to try helping it.
But one second Max is talking, and the next my hand is slapping him with as much force as I can muster until his head whips to the side.
The noise almost echoes in the lobby, and the chatter from behind the desk slowly fades.
And…oh my God.
I hit someone.
I hit my ex-husband.
I swallow and lower my hand, trying not to seem phased by the impulsive decision. “Never speak of my father. Or me. Or anyone else I care about. Even if I were stupid enough to let you back in, to help you, that doesn’t mean my dad will. He never liked you and he never will.”
There’s a red mark on his face as he stares at me in disbelief. It takes him a few seconds before he stands a little taller. “That’s assault, you know. I could file charges and have your ass put away.”
It’s Bodhi who speaks up. “But you won’t.” It’s not a threat. But a warning. “It would be he-said she-said, anyway. And nobody saw it happen.”
“There are cameras—”
“Are there?” Bodhi asks, letting go of my hand and crossing his arms over his chest. He usually seems so…soft. Caring. Non-threatening. This version of him is different.
Possessive.
Domineering.
All business.
This is the version people see on the ice.
On their TV screens.
I’m not used to it.
But I find it kind of hot.
Max, to my complete shock, stands down. “I just need a signature. She owes me that much. We were married. I bought her a ring.”
This son of a—“A piece of jewelry that meant nothing to you,” I point out gingerly. “It held no weight, Max. You were never in it for the right reasons. You used me to get to my dad. Be real for once in your life.”
Bodhi reclaims my hand while addressing Max.
“You’re not getting a signature. I’m going to make damn sure you won’t be getting any from anyone in the NHL.
If you pull any more of this shit, if you so much as reach out to Honor, I’ll make sure your company goes belly up.
You’ll fucking wish you kept the money that you spent on her mother. Understand me, Decker?”
Max’s jaw grinds. “You benefit from the games just as much as I do. People love to play the characters. To feel like they get the experience. I make you more popular.”
“You. Fucking. Wish.” Bodhi’s words are slow and meticulous.
“It’s the other way around, and we both know it.
Without the NHL, you would be nothing. If you hadn’t used Honor for her connections, you would have nothing.
Be a nobody. And I promise you, Decker, I can still make that happen if you don’t stop harassing her.
That means no texts. No calls. And if I hear that you used anyone else to get to her, consider your life over.
You’ll have to sell that watch and everything else you own to keep up the high life. ”
Max breaks eye contact first, his throat bobbing and his fists clenching and unclenching.
I stop staring at Bodhi and move my eyes back to my mother.
I hate that she looks pleadingly at me, as if this is hurting her.
“I don’t want to hear from you. You should be ashamed of yourself for being part of this ploy.
There’s a reason he and I are divorced. Probably the same reason you and I don’t talk.
We don’t know each other. We don’t share the same love I have for Mila or her parents who were a better family to me than you ever were.
If you knew me, or cared, you would have never come here and tried acting like it was for me. ”
“Honor, baby—”
“I’m done,” I repeat more firmly. “I’m done with Max. I’m done with you. And I’m leaving now. I hope you get your act together someday. I won’t be around to witness it either way.”
I tug on Bodhi’s hand and feel him follow without much resistance.
It isn’t until we’re on the sidewalk with a cool breeze hitting my skin when he asks, “Are you okay, honey?”
I nod, even though I’m not.
“It could be worse,” he offers lightly.
I look up at him with pinched brows. “How?”
He gives me a sheepish smile. “They could be sleeping together. That’s definitely what I thought was going on when they walked in.”
I gag at the thought that I’m going to need to bleach out of my brain. “Oh my god! No!”
He laughs, and I can’t help but join him through my full body shivers.
“She does really like rich guys…” I mumble.
He puts an arm around my waist and pulls me into his chest, then wraps his other one around my upper back to envelope me in a hug. His warmth soaks into me, releasing the tension in some of my muscles.
For the first time since entering the hotel, I can breathe.
Then I feel something press against the crown of my skull. His lips.
It’s the first time they’ve come near me since the day at his house. I’ve thought about it. A lot. Way too much to be healthy. I’ve obsessed over his words. His promises. Fantasized about every single thing he said he wanted to do to me.
“It’s okay to not be okay,” he says softly.
I swallow. “I know.”
“It’s okay to be mad.”
I nod against his chest.
“I’m sorry, honey.”
I close my eyes and take a deep breath, smelling nothing but him. It’s relaxing to me, so I let myself live in the moment for a second or two longer before pulling away.
“Family sucks,” I tell him.
This time, he’s the one who nods.
“I can’t believe I married that guy,” I grumble, frowning at my poor choices. But I was young and in love and blah blah blah.
“Me neither,” he agrees, earning a passive look from me that he chuckles at. “Do you want to get dinner?”
My mouth twitches. “I don’t know if I’m in the mood for a date right now, Bodhi. I’m sorry, I—”
“Just dinner,” he reassures. “It’ll be two people having conversation about anything other than what happened today. We can talk about your favorite topic instead.”
My brows pinch.
“Hockey.”
“Pretty sure that’s yours. Maybe I’ll throw in some slang terms so you can be as confused as I am when I have to deal with the team’s social media.”
His smile grows as he takes my hand and starts leading me down the street.
“By the way,” I add, “did you know that a majority of the team’s fanbase thinks you’re a FILF?”
He doesn’t need me to explain what that is.
With a grin, he asks, “Do you?”
Considering where his hand was not that long ago, I think we both know the answer to that question already.