50. Chapter 50
Nick
Ican’t help but smile at the picture Lydia just sent me. Damn. She’s beautiful.
I’m growing more and more certain she’s mine. I knew from the moment we met all those months ago that we belonged together. I felt it then, and I feel it even stronger now. It’s finally happening.
I want to wake up next to her every day.
I want lazy afternoons where we do nothing but lounge on the couch.
I want to wander through bookstores with her, push a grocery cart beside her, and argue over what kind of cereal to buy.
I want all of it. With her. As soon as I can tell her without scaring her, and without it feeling too soon, I will.
I look down at the picture she sent, seeing the bubbles pop up with another message. They disappear just as quickly. I wait for them to return, but nothing comes through.
I wait another minute for a response. When my phone finally pings, I glance down, expecting a text from Lydia. Instead, I see a message from Ellie.
Ellie: There’s a man here trying to talk to Lydia. He tried grabbing her arm as she came out of the bathroom. Sam is there with her now. Maybe you should get over here and…
I’m out of my truck and running toward the restaurant before I even finish reading the text.
Lydia
I stand frozen.
He’s found me. Simon has found me, and I have no idea what he’s going to do. I force myself to think. To keep him talking until someone notices he’s back here with me.
When I really look at him, I see that he looks like hell. I barely recognize the man I was married to, or fake married to, I guess. There are circles beneath his eyes. His shirt is rumpled and untucked. His hair looks like it hasn’t seen a barber in the months since I’ve been gone.
“What are you doing here, Simon? I don’t want you here,” I say, doing my best to keep my voice firm. I pull my eyes from his, trying to get Sam’s attention since her chair is facing the bathroom door.
“I belong where you are, sweetheart. You’re my wife.
I miss you,” he purrs, reaching out to touch my elbow.
His words are thick with the stench of alcohol.
The smell of bourbon rolling off him makes my stomach lurch.
His gaze slides over me slowly, unapologetic, lingering in places that make my skin crawl.
I step back, and he mirrors it immediately, blocking my exit.
“Move,” I say.
He smiles wider, teeth flashing as he looks me up and down. “You look good, baby.”
Ugh. Gross.
I force my voice steady. “Why are you here, Simon?”
The question lands, yet he only shrugs, swaying slightly. “I thought we could talk. I miss my wife.”
His eyes drop to my mouth, then lower again. The lecherous look in his eyes makes me want to vomit. Finally, Sam looks up and catches my eye. I widen mine, trying to convey the trouble I’m in. She catches on immediately, saying something to Ellie before getting up from the table.
“My friends are here, Simon. They know I don’t want you around. Why don’t you just go before you cause a scene? I know you don’t want that—”
He grabs my arm, his mood turning dark instantly.
“You’re my fucking wife, Lydia, and you thought it was okay to pack up your shit and leave me in the middle of the goddamn night?
You don’t get to leave me. You’re damn lucky I married you in the first place.
” Simon spits the words at me, gripping my arm harder.
I try to keep the fear from my face. Simon used to keep his berating of me behind closed doors or in hushed tones, but this man, I have no idea what he’s capable of. He obviously isn’t above making a scene, considering we’ve caught the attention of several people in the restaurant.
I notice the employee at the register is on the phone, her eyes fixed on me, probably talking to the police. Sam is here now too, standing behind Simon. Even though she’s nearly five inches shorter than him, she shows no fear.
“Get your fucking hands off my friend,” she growls. “Now.”
I’m so grateful for her.
“Go away, bitch,” Simon mutters, shoving Sam hard enough she stumbles back a step.
I use the moment to wrench myself free from his grip.
Simon turns back toward me, so much hate and cruelty in his eyes I barely recognize him. “You’re coming with me, Lydia. You’re my wife, and if I have to fucking tie you up and lock you in my trunk, you’re coming home with me.”
Just as he reaches out to grab me again, another, stronger arm reaches out and stops him.
A voice rumbles from behind him. “Get your hands off her. Now.”
Simon freezes.
Nick stands close enough I can feel his presence at my back. He doesn’t reach for me. Doesn’t touch Simon. He doesn’t need to.
“You won’t put your hands on her,” Nick emphasizes. “Not here. Not ever again.”
Simon scoffs, the sound brittle. “And who’s going to stop—”
Nick steps forward, towering over Simon, placing himself between us, gently pushing me back behind him.
“If you touch her again,” he says quietly, “I will kill you.”
Silence fills the hallway.
“Now,” Nick adds, his voice cold and deadly. “Step back.”
Nick turns to look at me then, his expression going soft as he takes me in. “Are you alright?” he asks, gently touching my cheek.