: Chapter 26

“I’m going to lose it,” I growl into the phone as I sit.

“I know, but seriously, this was such a good find, Hudson. What were we thinking? We should have checked the original contract to begin with.”

I slide my hand over my forehead. “Yeah, I think we’ve both been distracted.”

“I can admit to that.” He blows out a heavy breath. “I think we send the threat of a countersuit, have the lawyers list out all the damages, but then don’t really press for action. I think the threat will scare him enough.”

“I don’t think so. I think he’ll keep coming back.”

“He has nothing on us,” Hardy says. “And if we keep pressing and sue him back, it’s only going to end poorly for us. We promised ourselves we would do things the right way, that we wouldn’t sink to his level.”

“So we’re just going to let him walk all over us?” I nearly shout.

“No, we’re setting the standard for how business will be handled moving forward. He will know not to fuck with us, but he won’t be able to take any dirty laundry and air it out to potential business partners.”

I’m about to shoot back when that last part sinks in. I hate to admit it, but he’s right. If we were to countersue, he would make sure everyone in the business knew his boys were trying to sue him.

“Fuck, do you think that’s what he was trying to do all along? Get us so fucking angry that we’d turn around and sue him and then use that against us?”

“Yeah,” Hardy says. “I was talking to Everly about it, and she brought up the fact that this could have all been for show because he didn’t have anything on us and was hoping we would countersue.”

I grind my teeth together, thinking about the possible scenario. I lean back in my chair and drag my hand over my mouth. “I wouldn’t put it past him.”

“So I think we need to be level-headed about this. I think we need to put in a threat that will ensure he doesn’t try to fuck with us again, but not be messy about it so he can use it to his advantage.”

“Yeah, you’re right. It’s not what I want to do.”

“Neither do I, trust me. I’m feeling really fucked in the head right now.”

“Same,” I say. “I was actually thinking about coming home, to wade through all of this legal bullshit.”

“Oh, did the wedding happen already?”

“No.” I shake my head, even though he can’t see me. “But Sloane can stay here, and I can be back for the wedding. I just think I need to be there when we talk with the lawyers and decide how we handle everything.”

There is a pause on the other line, and I can already tell that he doesn’t agree with me.

“Is everything okay over there?”

No need to lie, he’s going to call me out either way, so I say, “No, but that’s not why I want to come back for a few days.”

“Really? Because you haven’t shown any sign of coming back. Hell, from the lack of communication between us, I could have sworn you were having a good time.”

“I have been, and like I said, coming back is to make sure we are on the same page with the lawyers; hard to do that with an eight-hour time difference.”

“Okay, so then why aren’t things okay over there?”

I glance behind me to make sure Sloane isn’t around. Hoping she’s in bed, I say, “Things have gotten intense. Too intense.”

“What do you mean…intense?”

“You know what I fucking mean, okay. She’s just…she’s different, and I’m different around her. It shouldn’t be like this, but it is.”

“Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever heard a more evasive answer. That was rather impressive.”

“Don’t make me fucking say it.” I drag my hand over my face.

“Yeah, I’m going to make you say it.”

Grumbling, I say, “I like her. I shouldn’t but I do, and I’ve become attached. And I shouldn’t be attached. She talks about fucking divorce all the goddamn time, so I know she’s not in the same mindset as I am, not that it matters because we’re going to get divorced, we need to, because…well, fuck, Hardy.”

“Oh God, what happened?”

I pause for a moment and then quietly say, “Dad knows.”

“Dad knows what—wait, he knows about you and Sloane?”

“He knows I’m married. I don’t know if he knows that it’s Sloane. But Terrance was talking to Dad about me being married, and apparently Dad was surprised to hear about it. But if he finds out who it is, life is fucking over because you know he’s not going to keep that to himself.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Yeah, so another reason for coming back is to talk to Dad. To have that conversation with him, because I can’t have him blowing up the marriage. Not when we’re so close to making the deal and getting through the wedding. We just need a little bit more time, and I think I can get us that if I come home, talk to him about the lawsuit, and hopefully defuse the situation.”

“You really think you can do that with Dad?”

“I don’t know, but I would at least like to try. Not that I want to look that man in the eye, but in order to squash this, put it behind us, I would be willing to do that, especially if it means saving the relationship Jude has with Sloane.”

“What about your relationship with him?”

I shake my head. “Hers is more important. She is more important.”

“What are you doing?” Sloane says, sitting up in bed, looking all blurry eyed. She glances around. “Did you not sleep here last night?”

“I didn’t sleep,” I say as I stick my leather toiletry bag in my suitcase.

She rubs her eyes and asks, “Why are you packing? Should I be packing?”

“No,” I answer, not wanting to look at her confused expression because if I do, this is going to be so much harder than I want it to be.

From the corner of my eye, I see her sit taller. “Where are you going?”

“Home for a few days.”

“Home,” she shouts as she gets out of bed. I zip up my suitcase, and I’m almost finished when she stops me and forces me to look at her. “What do you mean you’re going home?”

“There are some things I need to resolve, Sloane.”

“With the lawsuit? Let me come with you; I can help.”

I shake my head. “I don’t need your assistance.” I finish zipping up my bag and set it on its wheels.

“Hold on a second,” she says, stepping in again. “You can’t just leave me here.”

“I can. You have a fitting you have to go to for your dress. And you need to remain here in case Sheridan needs anything.”

“But…but we were supposed to do this together. The dance lessons…the club…”

“I know, but you’re ready for that. Plus, you will have my driver if you need to go anywhere.”

“Wow, great, thanks. I’ll have your driver. Seriously, Hudson, you can’t leave me.”

“I have to go back to San Francisco,” I say in a sterner voice and grab my suitcase and head toward the front door.

“Hudson,” she says, causing me to turn at the scared tone in her voice.

Fuck.

Leaving would have been so much easier if she were asleep.

I face her, despite the war raging inside me, telling me to flee. When our eyes meet and I see just how terrified she is, a sick dread grows deep in the pit of my stomach.

“Wh-what is going on?” she asks, tears filling her eyes. “I thought…I thought everything was okay, but then last night you pushed me away and didn’t sleep in the same bed⁠—”

“I didn’t sleep at all.”

“You could have at least just lain with me, and now you’re leaving. Were you going to leave without telling me?”

Yes.

If you didn’t wake up, yes, I would have left, because that’s the kind of coward I am.

“I have to catch my flight, Sloane.”

Her lips grow tight and her arms fold in front of her. “Fine, go catch your flight, Hudson.”

Fuck, sad to pissed in seconds.

Don’t blame her though. Question is, how do I want to leave? It would be easier with her pissed off at me, since I need to keep my distance, but even though I am a coward, I can’t do that to her, so I reach for her arm and tug her into my chest.

She’s resistant at first but gives in and allows me to wrap my arms around her.

God, she smells so good.

She fits so perfectly in my arms.

I don’t want to let this feeling go.

I kiss the side of her head and say, “It’s only for a few days, then I’ll be back. I need to finish this shit with my dad and be done with it.”

“I could go with you,” she says with hope.

“You know you can’t,” I say. “Sheridan needs you for the wedding, and that’s why we’re here, to be there for her, right? For the job.” It’s a subtle reminder for the both of us.

I take a step back and release her because I don’t want to become too attached.

Those large eyes of hers connect with mine, confusion and pain running ramped through them. “Just tell me one thing, Hudson.”

“What?” I ask.

“That you’re not running away because of what happened yesterday.”

“Nothing happened yesterday.”

“Hudson, please,” she says. “You can’t tell me that things didn’t change last night after we found out Terrance told your dad about us being married. I don’t want you…running away from us. I don’t want to handle this on my own. I can, but I don’t want to.”

“I’m not running away, Sloane. I’m trying to fucking fix things, okay?” When her eyes well up again, I sigh heavily. “I don’t want you feeling sad or upset. I’m not running away. If I were, I wouldn’t be coming back. Plus…Sloane, we shouldn’t, we shouldn’t be getting attached to each other like this.”

And that does it.

That sentence right there.

Because my words set in as she takes a step back. And I can see the wheels in her head spinning, analyzing my comment before a mask of indifference falls over her features. That’s all it took to snap out of this fantasyland we’ve been living in.

She wipes at her eyes and says, “You’re right. I’m…I’m sorry.” She wipes again. “I was just caught off guard. But you’re so right.” She exhales sharply and takes a step backward. “Um, have a safe flight.”

I contemplate what to do next, because she just slammed a metaphorical door. She took what I said and sprinted with it. Which I should take as a blessing, because one sentence was all it took to remind us in this fucked-up situationship that we call a marriage, that it’s all been a farce.

And yet, once again, things aren’t settling well.

They don’t sit right.

I want to tell her that I didn’t mean it.

That she should expect me to call, text, FaceTime when I’m gone.

That I’m going to be thinking about her every second that I’m over in California.

But this is easier, better, right?

Having this distance?

She’s setting the precedent right now by backing away.

This is business.

There shouldn’t be texting when I’m gone.

There shouldn’t be FaceTiming just so I can see her beautiful eyes. Or to catch a hint of her smile.

Nope, this is how it should be.

Cold.

Distant.

So I follow her lead.

I stick my hands in my pockets and say, “Thanks.”

She takes another step back. “And if you need me to do anything, schedule meetings, whatever you need, just email me, I’ll set it up.”

“Don’t worry about it⁠—”

“I’m here for work, Hudson, and I’m your assistant, so you let me know what you need.”

Yup, she’s completely shut down, and before I say something stupid like…you’re not my assistant, you’re my wife, I nod.

“Okay, sounds good.” I grab my suitcase handle and head toward the door. “Be back in a few.”

“Yup. Safe flight.”

I want to kiss her.

I want to hug her.

I want to strip her out of that stupid pajama set and fuck her so she will remember me when I’m gone.

But instead, I wheel my bag out of the hotel room and down the hall.