Flashback for the Forward (San Diego Surf Hockey #2)

Prologue

Cole

“The last thing we need to decide is who keeps the house, or if it’s sold and the proceeds of the sale are split between both parties. As of right now, the deed is in Mr. Astor’s name.”

My lawyer looked to me. “Cole?”

Waving a dismissive hand, I declared, “She can have it.” I hadn’t set foot in that house since I walked in on my wife blowing the neighbor, and I had zero intention of returning.

“Very well,” the mediator remarked. “Can we agree that Mrs. Astor’s portion of the financial assets be reduced by half of the home’s current value?”

Kennedy’s lawyer dipped her chin. “That works for my client.”

“All I need now is for both parties to sign the settlement agreement.”

A piece of paper outlining who got what in the divorce was passed to my attorney. He read it over and must have deemed it acceptable because he withdrew a pen from his breast pocket and handed it to me.

With a flourish of black ink, I scribbled my name on the designated line.

The document was then slid across the table for my soon-to-be ex-wife and her legal counsel to review.

I held my breath as Kennedy positioned the tip of the pen over the paper.

But instead of signing, her eyes lifted, sadness written in their turquoise depths.

“It doesn’t need to be this way, Cole. We can work this out. I still love you.”

A heavy sigh was pulled from my chest. She’d been trying to talk me out of moving forward with this divorce since I filed.

Infidelity aside, our split had been a long time coming.

Truthfully, we never should have gotten married in the first place—a fact my twin brother, Crew, had pointed out more times than I could count.

He’d never liked her, and he liked everyone.

That should have been my first clue that rushing to the altar with a woman I’d barely met six weeks prior was a terrible idea.

But I’d been consumed by the lethal combination of guilt and grief, and I thought .

. . Fuck, I hadn’t been thinking at all.

I’d needed a distraction from the dumpster fire my life had become seemingly overnight, and Kennedy happened to be there.

It wasn’t fair to either of us that I’d let it get this far.

“We want different things,” I reminded her for what felt like the millionth time. “You deserve to be with someone who can give you what I can’t.” Or rather, what I wouldn’t.

Tears crested her lashes, spilling down her cheeks. “I don’t want someone else.”

I arched an eyebrow. “Luke’s dick down your throat would suggest otherwise.”

“Mr. Astor!” the moderator issued the sharp reprimand.

Kennedy’s sobs grew in volume. “It was a one-time mistake, I swear!”

Not that I would ever say it out loud, but I owed Luke a huge thank-you. If I hadn’t caught him fooling around with my wife, who knows if I would have ever worked up the nerve to sever our union. Finding out she was cheating gave me a reason to demand a divorce without looking like the bad guy.

But it didn’t erase the shame I carried, knowing that no matter how hard I tried, I could never love Kennedy because my heart belonged to another.

Rising from my seat, I buttoned my suit jacket. “Whether you sign the agreement or not, it won’t change my mind. Our marriage is over.”

I rounded the edge of the conference table, headed for the door. But before I could make my escape, Kennedy leapt from her chair, throwing her arms around me and holding on for dear life.

“Please,” she begged. “Don’t let this be the end of us.”

It took effort, but I managed to peel her off me. Holding her at arm’s length, I kept my voice firm. “There’s nothing you can say that will change my mind. It’s better if you accept it and move on.”

When I removed my hands, Kennedy collapsed, becoming a weeping mess on the floor.

Having spent six years married to the woman, I knew all her tricks. An emotional meltdown was her go-to. Until now, it had been effective at getting me to do whatever she wanted to make it stop. But unfortunately for her, I’d become immune to her tears—they no longer affected me.

I probably looked like a Grade A asshole for stepping over her blubbering form to open the door, but I’d had enough.

My identical twin waited on the other side. He’d insisted on being here for moral support, when in reality, he was making sure I didn’t change my mind and call the whole thing off.

At the sight of Kennedy’s theatrics, a scowl formed on his face. “Jesus. This shit again?”

Without a word, I snagged his arm and hauled him toward the elevator.

Crew couldn’t help looking back over his shoulder. “Please, for the love of God, tell me she didn’t talk you out of it.”

“She sure tried,” I remarked.

He scoffed. “Manipulative bitch.”

I gave him a side-eye as we stepped into the elevator. “Is the name-calling really necessary?”

“Are you actually defending her right now?”

Scrubbing a hand over my face, I blew out a breath. “No, but a guy can only take so much of his brother bashing his wife. Don’t pretend like you ever bothered pulling punches before she cheated.”

My twin leaned against the mirrored interior, arms folded. “That’s because I saw through her bullshit from day one. All I was trying to do was remove the blindfold from your eyes.”

“Well, you finally got your wish. Are you happy now?”

Lips twisted to the side, he mulled it over. “Yeah, but I get the feeling you’re not.”

“I just lost six years of my life to a marriage that, on some level, I knew was doomed from the start. Am I allowed a minute to mourn the end of that chapter?

Crew had the good sense to appear remorseful. “Of course you are. Sorry for being a dick.”

Eyes drifting shut, I breathed out, “It’s fine.”

His hand landed on my shoulder. “What do you say we hit a bar? Dealer’s choice whether the drink is celebratory or sorrowful. But either way, I’m buying.”

“Yeah,” I agreed with a nod. “A drink sounds great.”

“Hey, and maybe if we find our way to the bottom of a bottle, you’ll be able to forget Kennedy’s existence in your life altogether.”

I hummed as we walked side by side out of the elevator and toward the exit.

It would have been a great idea, except that I’d been using Kennedy to forget about another woman.

But my twin didn’t know that.

And he never would.