Book Two in the Silver Line Series
Lennon
Hudson’s name flashed on my cell phone. It was still a photo of us happy and in love.
I should change that, especially since we separated months ago.
When things first fell apart, we’d fight over stupid shit.
Like whose fault it was that he overslept or that the kitchen sink was backed up.
The stupid part was we didn’t live together.
Then I asked him to stop calling. Because I needed to get over him. Move on.
And so did he.
“Hey,” I answered, trying to play off that I still missed the sound of his voice.
“Hey. Are you busy?”
“No.” I worried about him. It was hard not to worry about a man you’d been with since you were sixteen. I got up and closed my office door. “What’s up?”
“I know this is a lot to ask of you. And I get it if you say no. I mean, you should say no. You have every right to say no. But, um…”
“What is it?” I could tell he was outside.
It was lunch time. Hudson would be outside the break trailer in jeans, a Coyotes hoodie, and the Carhartt jacket I got him.
I wondered if he packed his lunch. Or if his new girlfriend had.
If she had reminded him to eat and made sure he was up.
And that should make me happy that he’d moved on.
Maybe he’d be more motivated to sign the divorce papers. Or get an attorney or something.
“It’s my parents.” He paused.
“Are they okay?” I hadn’t heard anything. And if there was something wrong with one of the Silvers, the entire county would know.
“Yeah, they’re fine. My mom is wondering about Thanksgiving. She wants us all there for a family photo. Julian is coming and bringing his girlfriend. Becks said he’d try to be there. You don’t have to be in the photo if… uh… I know it’s a lot to ask but…” He exhaled into the phone.
This was the part of Hudson that was hard to get over. The sad part.
The I-need-to-fix-him part. Protect-him part.
It took me years of therapy to realize that wasn’t my job.
I don’t know whose it was. Maybe his new girlfriend’s.
I heard she was a nurse. “You haven’t told them yet, have you?
” His mother would take it the hardest. Quinton would just see it as another failure.
“No. But I will.”
The photo glared back at me. We were at one of Julian’s games for the Coyotes’ family week.
Beckett had even come. He complained about it the whole time, but he came for Julian.
Same with Hudson. Everyone always came together for Julian.
It had been so hard for Hudson to watch his brother live out his dream.
I think that week was the one that really broke us.
It had been hard on Hudson to see what he could never have.
To hear his father remind him how good he could have been.
“When?” He should have done it months ago. I had told my family and friends. Step one in the twelve to moving on after leaving Hudson Silver.
“I’ll tell Mom after dinner. If you bring the papers, I’ll sign them.” The words tumbled out of his mouth as if he had rehearsed them.
I could hear my lawyer screaming not to do it. She’d file some motion, and in thirty days or more, depending on the family court backlog, I could be divorced. She’d been telling me that now for months.
“You’re going to tell your mother that we are divorcing on Thanksgiving?”
“Well, not during dinner. But after.”
“And your girlfriend? What will she say if I go?” I silently cursed myself for saying that. I shouldn’t have cared, nor should I have been surprised he had someone already.
Hudson Silver would not stay single long. He, like his brother Julian, was somewhat of a hometown hero. Not to mention, even at almost forty, he was still a very attractive man and one of Warroad’s most eligible almost-bachelors.
I heard him breathe into the phone. “I’m not seeing anyone. Unlike you.”
Had to love small towns. They would spread your business like they spread shit on a field. “It was a county dinner, Hudson.”
“That’s not what I heard. Heard you two were getting pretty cozy.”
“Okay, you know what? I’m not doing this.” I put the photo face down on my desk. We broke before that moment.
“Forget I asked. I should go.”
“Wait.” I knew I shouldn’t go. I should’ve told him he made his bed, and now he could sleep in it alone.
Or with Shelly the nurse. Or whoever. I really, really should have.
But it was Hudson. “I’ll go but only if you promise to tell your mom and sign the papers.
And I’m not going for you. I’m going for Julian’s girlfriend.
I don’t want that poor girl alone with all three of the Silver boys.
Four if you count your father.” I was doing it for this poor woman.
Quinton was a lot alone. But put him in a room with his three boys—one who failed, one who quit, and one who never tried—and the shit would hit the fan.
“I will. And Thank you.”
At least I was consistent with my inability to cut ties with Hudson. My therapist would be proud since I also needed to work on following through on my “threats.”
“But Hudson, I mean it. You’re telling your mother, and I want my own bed.” This wouldn’t be the first stupid thing I did for Hudson Silver.
Hopefully, it would be the last.