Chapter 7 #2
“And what is that, Trey?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper because my heart wasn’t strong enough to handle more hurt. My chest felt heavy, and with each breath I took, it felt like shards of glass burrowed deeper into my damaged soul.
“When was the last time you were truly happy, Summer? A year ago? Two? Five? How long were you prepared to go through the motions with me? Another decade? All I did was speed the process along.”
I opened and closed my mouth like a fish struggling to breathe on land, letting his words sink in. The truth hurt—but no matter how unhappy we were, what he did was inexcusable, and I steadied my breathing, letting his pathetic justification fuel my words.
“Instead of having an open conversation or seeking counseling, you decided the best course of action was to stick your prick—”
I stopped, resting my forehead against the door that separated us, and breathed, regaining my composure before I spouted off more hate that would only stoke my temper.
“Look, what’s done is done, and the only reason I drove out here was to see if you would be reasonable about that money. The divorce is finalized—Mindy insisted—but the fact that we were still married when whoever died—”
“My aunt, Trey. When my aunt passed away,” I said, letting him hear the irritation in my voice.
What had I done to deserve this? Was my marriage so much of a sham that this was my punishment? Forced to part with money that should open the doors to my new beginning?
Trey leered through the closed door and tugged on the handle again, startling me from my pity party as the door shook, still refusing to open.
“Whatever. It’s not like you knew her—or at least you never mentioned her to me in the decade we were married.
But because we were still married when she died, if you don’t agree to give me a portion of that money, we will go to court, and you will lose.
Now is the time for you to be reasonable.
Let me out of this fucking heat, and let’s talk about this like adults. ”
Not an ask—but a threat. No matter how beat down I felt, no matter how much this conversation was like a knife to the gut, I wouldn’t let him trample over me.
“Absolutely not. You have no right to that money, and there is no way I’m letting you inside.”
Trey sighed, running his left hand through his hair before kicking the edge of the doorframe. “Listen, Summer. This needs to happen.”
“Nope. No. I’m done. Did the chemicals from your fiancée’s bleach-blonde hair dye short-circuit your brain? What makes you think you have any right to come here? You’ve lost the right to know anything about my life.”
“Just because I admitted our divorce is final,” he hissed, clenching his fists by his sides, “doesn’t mean I’ve lost the right to be involved in your life.”
I swallowed down the anger and desire to dropkick him in the nuts, and took a deep steadying breath, placing my hand on my stomach.
“Actually, Trey, that’s exactly what that means. You lost the right to know anything about me the moment you stuck your dick into that twit who works for you.”
“Don’t speak about Mindy like that. She’s pregnant with my child. We’re going to be a family. How dare you disrespect me like that?”
“How dare I? Really? That’s ballsy. And stupid. Take your pick, then get off my property.” I shooed him away with my hands, taking a step back until I couldn’t smell his overpowering cologne.
“Your property?” he scoffed, stepping closer and slapping his palm against the doorframe. “I’m tired of your convoluted bullshit, Summer. Open the damn—”
“Hey!” a deep, gruff voice yelled from behind Trey, and I pressed my hand to my chest, willing my heart to drop back where it belonged instead of staying lodged in my throat.
Trey jumped back, following the voice as I peeked behind him to see Maverick at the bottom of the front porch with a beautiful, colossal dog resembling an adult version of Bev’s puppies.
“I thought I heard your voice as I pulled up. How are you doing, Summer?” he asked from the bottom of the steps, wrapping one hand around the leash to secure the dog and propping the other on his hip. I tilted my head, watching Trey clench his fists by his side but making no move to speak.
“Oh. Hi. Hey. Hello. I’m fine, just finishing up a conversation.” I lifted the hand pressed against my chest and gave Maverick a feeble wave with two fingers.
His head tilted as he moved forward and rested a large hand on the railing. I suppressed a gleeful smirk as Trey sidestepped him, taking two steps down while his eyes darted between me and the towering oak tree that was Maverick Hansen.
The difference between the two men was staggering. Maverick stood a good thirty pounds heavier and several inches taller, with scruff on his face and a dark green polo with his company logo on the left breast pocket, while Trey remained lanky and wore socks that more than likely matched his shirt.
“I see that. Mind if I come in?” he rumbled in a low tone as he made his way up the stairs, causing goose bumps on my arms and a delightful tingle to race down my spine. He didn’t glance at Trey, who pushed himself against the railing as Maverick and his dog moved past him.
“Who are you? Summer, what’s going on?”
I ignored my ex’s pathetic pleas as Maverick continued up the porch steps two at a time. His dog tugged at the leash and growled toward Trey, who stepped down until he reached the bottom with his hands in the air and his jaw clenched.
“Want to open the door, pretty lady?”
My eyes darted to his face as my belly swooped with the compliment.
It only took an undignified grunt from Trey for me to realize Maverick’s friendliness was purely to irritate the imbecile at the bottom of the steps.
Sighing, I nodded and snicked the lock, opening the door just enough to let them pass.
Trey made an indignant noise, but I ignored him, locking the screen door and closing the heavy front door before resting my head against it and shutting my eyes.
“What was that about?”
“Hmm?”
“Summer? What. Was. That. About?”
His words were gruff and tight, compelling me to open my eyes and meet his sapphire ones. They seemed to almost glow in the dim light of the living room, and I held his gaze, captivated by the different facets of blue.
His dog whined, and I felt a cold nose nudge my palm, jolting me out of my stupor.
“Sorry. Nothing. It was nothing.”
“That sure as shit didn’t sound like nothing,” Dad hollered from the living room.
I shook my head and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear before dropping to my knees and scratching Maverick’s large dog under her chin, loving how she pushed herself into my hand and whined for more pets.
“And who is this lovely girl?” I asked, desperate for a change of subject.
“This is Malibu, but you didn’t answer my question.”
“No, I didn’t. She’s beautiful, and so well behaved.”
Maverick grunted in what I assumed was his version of thanks as I stood and motioned for him to follow me into the living room. Malibu sniffed the corner of Dad’s chair before placing a paw on his lap and tilting her head, demanding attention.
Dad set his coffee mug beside the book and chess set he kept on a small table next to his recliner and used both hands to scratch her ears. She whimpered and panted as he cooed over her, using a tone of voice I hadn’t heard since I was in elementary school.
“That man resembling human garbage better not have spoken to you like that through your marriage. If so, I’ll have this pretty girl neuter him. Oh, yes, I will.”
“Dad—”
“Don’t you ‘Dad’ me,” he said in the same baby voice, not taking his eyes off Malibu, and I couldn’t help but smile even though my mood had sunk lower than the Titanic.
“If you’ve been dealing with that attitude for the ten years you were married, we are going to have a serious conversation about self-worth, young lady. ”
“That dipshit was your ex?”
My eyes shot to Maverick, and I scowled, biting my lower lip as he crossed his arms and widened his stance like he expected me to defend that asshole.
“That dipshit was none of your business,” I said, trying to put more authority in my voice than I felt. “And I was handling him perfectly fine before you showed up. Why did you show up, anyway? Weren’t you just here yesterday?”
“You weren’t handling anything,” he said, barely letting me finish the last syllable before responding. “You were floundering, and a thank you would be appreciated.”
“Floundering, Cinnamon Roll? Floundering? Even if I was floundering, which I wasn’t, it’s not your business to butt in. You don’t know me, and you don’t know the situation.”
“I know enough to recognize how not to speak to a woman.” He snatched his hat off his head and crushed the brim between his large hands, scowling.
Did he really expect a thank you? And should I thank him for intervening when I felt more vulnerable than I had in years? Or perhaps he expected me to fawn over him like a lovesick fool, grateful that a big, burly man came to save the day?
“Well, duh. I couldn’t imagine your mom tolerating that kind of disrespect.
And I know you don’t deserve my crummy mood, but don’t act like you did me some huge favor.
” I tugged the elastic out of my hair and slid it onto my wrist, waiting for him to make another smartass comment about my need for rescue.
“Fine, be like that. I’m only here because I need to take some measurements.”
“Yes, of course you do. I assumed that’s why you brought over a dog instead of tools.” I motioned to his empty hands, arching an eyebrow before grabbing Dad’s coffee cup and scooting a white pawn forward two spaces on his chessboard.
“Don’t bother distracting me with your lack of chess skills, Summer. We’ll be discussing Trey later.”
“Sure, Dad. Boss this unsung hero around a little, will you? I have work to do and a casserole to prep. See you, Cinnamon Roll.”
“Don’t call me that,” he barked, tossing his hat on the couch and then widening his eyes before stepping closer to retrieve it.
“Then don’t butt into conversations you’re not a part of.”
“How about not getting into situations requiring someone to step in and assist?”
“I haven’t yet, but if I do, you’ll be the first person I call.” I matched his stance and dug a knuckle into my right eye in frustration, dropping my head to my chest, wishing that when I opened my eyes, I’d be in my full-size bed upstairs, alone.
I forced myself to count to ten in my head before my temper flared again. “Dad, I’m making a turkey on wheat sandwich for lunch.”
“Fine, but don’t skimp on the mayo.”
“Sure.”
I turned, heading to the kitchen and rinsing his mug before putting it into the dishwasher.
My phone sat beside the half-full pot of coffee, and I snatched it up, thumbing to my lawyer’s number and connecting.
The silence from the living room was deafening, so I slipped outside to the back porch, wondering who I pissed off in another universe and how long it would be until another disaster fell in my lap.