3. Sloane
Sloane
“ B ecause you’re carrying my heir.” The words play on repeat in my head. Of course his main concern is the damn company. I learned a long time ago to expect nothing less. I just forgot for a moment this afternoon.
We’re getting divorced , I remind myself.
That night—the night I’ve thought about more than I’ll ever admit—meant nothing to him.
It was just sex. Amazing sex, really, but just sex.
Because even though my husband and I might not know how to have a civil conversation anymore, our sexual chemistry is as strong as it’s ever been.
I blink at the man who’s owned my body for the last two decades, and it’s like I’m seeing him for the first time.
His light brown hair is slicked back perfectly, while when we were younger, it was always just a little messy.
And the hints of gray are new. He’s wearing a crisp white shirt beneath a blue Tom Ford suit that emphasizes the wide shoulders and strong chest I used to love resting my head against when we’d stay up late talking and fucking and planning for the future.
A dusting of stubble covers his chin, the gray making an appearance there too.
And his eyes? They’ve always done me in.
A silvery blue that turns glacial when his emotions run high, whether it was because we were fucking or fighting .
His eyes were the same color either way, as was his tone.
I always liked the way he talked to me in the bedroom.
Still do, if our night a few weeks ago is anything to go by.
I don’t mind his single-minded focus when we’re in a lust-filled haze.
How he doesn’t mince words. It’s nice to shut off my mind and allow him to control my pleasure since I spend so much of my life in my damn head, ensuring I keep my weaknesses from showing.
From a young age, I was taught never to let an opponent see my vulnerabilities.
Being raised by serious, dedicated lawyers—one of whom went on to become one of the first female judges in our district—will do that to a kid.
No, I don’t actually have to appear in front of my mother, but when I started practicing law, she’d sit in when I was in front of her colleagues and later point out all the ways she could tell I was rattled. She’d focus on the instances when I showed weakness , as she put it.
It took time, but eventually, I mastered the mask that my husband has told me a time or two makes me seem like a shrill bitch.
Okay, he’s never actually used those words, but it’s implied.
“Sloane, breathe .” It’s Lo who has me sliding out of ice mode and softening.
I turn away from Sully and nod at my best friend. For as long as I’ve known her, Lo has worn her red hair in a tight braid down her back. Today, though, it hangs loose like a curtain around her freckled face as she studies me like I’m deranged.
“Do you want Cal to go grab coffees for us?” She winces immediately, probably realizing it at the same time I do. I can’t have coffee.
Dammit, if I’d known this morning’s cup would be my last, I would have savored it. You never know when it will be your last sip.
I glance around the disaster of an office the Murphy brothers have moved into and have to hold back a snort. It’s so like Terry to pull something like this. The man always had to have the last word.
And he’s certainly gotten it. This is the last place I’d ever picture any of the posh Murphy men in. Sully and his brother Cal grew up in England with their mother but came here after high school, and for as long as I’ve known them, they’ve had this crisp, put-together air about them.
Their late father was the same way, though he was American.
It’s still hard to believe he’s gone.
Terry and I always got along. I was never bothered by his interest in women less than half his age. It was amusing. Odd, yes, but he wasn’t a sleazy old man by any means. He was funny. Charming.
He was the epitome of a Murphy.
Rather than the slight British accent my husband and his brother have, he had a thick New York accent.
My parents made comments about it here and there, but only to me and each other. They weren’t the type to gossip, and my mother respected Terry as a lawyer. He built a legacy and a very successful firm. A firm that looks absolutely nothing like this dump.
The New York office houses almost one hundred employees, both lawyers and support staff, just like my firm.
Okay, not my firm. I’m just an associate.
But Will promised that if I came to work for him, he’d put me on the fast track to partner.
It’s a better gig than I had here with the Murphys.
I was never a partner. There was a time where I thought it was possible that I’d become a partner here but after T.J.
was born I said goodbye to the courtroom and worked in the office handling trusts and estates around T.J. and Sully’s schedules.
After seven years away from the courtroom I’m lucky the new firm is giving me a chance. I’m sure part of the reason Will hired me is because he despises my husband and knew this would irk him in a way nothing else would.
But as my mother always says, one should take the opportunities that are given. A person can’t control someone else’s motivation, only their own.
My only motivation is to create a life for myself. A name set apart from my husband’s. Because soon he’ll simply be my ex.
And my baby daddy.
I drop my head into my hands at the thought .
Lo cups my shoulders and shakes me. “It’s going to be okay.” Despite the words, her tone is full of panic. “Sully, do something.”
I’m spiraling, a myriad of emotions churning through me.
Every single thing about this is ridiculous.
My soon-to-be ex-husband just referred to me as an incubator because of the absurd trust provision Terry wielded, which left his sons living and working here.
The man died while in the midst of a tryst with a twenty-four-year-old, for god’s sake.
To top if, off, Lo, my best friend, the most uptight boss bitch I know, has fallen head-over-heels in love with my dopey brother-in-law—whom I actually adore. And now at forty fucking years old I’m pregnant with my almost ex-husband’s baby.
A shrill laugh leaves me, echoing off the yellowed ceiling. I double over, practically panting as I try to catch a breath.
The giggles won’t stop. This is absurd.
“I think she’s losing it,” Lo mutters.
I nod, my hand covering my mouth, and straighten, the laughter now joined by tears.
The situation I found myself in couldn’t be more ridiculous.
The world is crumbling around me, and here I am, incubating this new, precious life.
I splay my hand over my stomach, already protective of my child.
A child who will be brought into the world under less-than-ideal circumstances.
Finally I blow out a breath. “I’m good. I promise.”
My husband stares at me, slack-jawed.
I can’t blame him. I don’t think I’ve ever acted so irrationally in my life.
Except the day we got married on a whim. Just the two of us at city hall, followed by a drunken lunch in Central Park.
Not a soul knew about it but us. He proposed, and I suggested we do it that day.
I didn’t think he’d go along with it, and I still have no idea how he got a marriage license approved so quickly.
But when Sully uses those charming blue eyes and that British lilt, he could talk a nun out of her panties.
He certainly talked me out of mine .
Over and over through the years. Even when I hated myself for it.
Like the night we made our little bear.
Our little bear. The thought brings a smile to my face.
Unfortunately, I’m still looking at Sully when that happens, and his eyes widen in shock.
Dammit. I doubt I’ve looked at him that way in years. Normally I’m better at hiding how desperately in love with my husband I am.
“I’m going to go,” I say, searching the room to make sure I haven’t left anything other than my dignity behind. “The incubator needs to be plugged in.”
Lo snorts and Sully sighs like I’ve exhausted him again.
Good. It’s better when he looks at me like that. Like I’m an issue to deal with rather than the love of his life.
Before I can make my escape, though, he takes a step closer, his eyes narrowing, piercing me in a way that makes it impossible to flee. “You can’t leave.”
I glare at him. “Well, I certainly can’t stay here. I’ve got a job, Sully, remember? It’s in New York City. Miles and miles from here. How the hell would I live here and work there?”
Sully straightens, his chin lifting, as if he has all the answers. “You won’t. You’ll come back and work for us. Or not work at all. It’s not like you need the money.”
My jaw hits the disgusting floor. Did he really just…
Sully holds his hands out. “What?” he asks, his tone challenging. “You know I always pay for you. Hell, I probably paid for that new car. So if you’re set on working in the city, you can use that to get back and forth.”
I don’t respond. I can’t. The gall of this man has rendered me speechless.
He huffs, like I’m the ridiculous one. “Why are you looking at me like that?” He turns to Lo. “Why is she looking at me like that?”
I’m going to kill him.
Tamping down on the rage burning inside me, gathering figurative ammunition, I take a deep breath. Then, as evenly as I can, I explain, “This is my career, Sully. A career I’m proud of.”
A career he never took seriously. But it’s always the same with him. We’ve been having this argument for years. Why would today be any different?
His shoulders rise and fall. “Wonderful. Be proud here . Will only hired you to piss me off anyway.”
That rage is back with a vengeance, my vision going red. “Are you serious right now?”
“It’s also because he’s always wanted to get into your trousers, and now he thinks he has a shot…” The man just keeps going, digging himself a deeper grave.
Is he for fucking real?
“Sully, shut up,” Lo hisses.