“What do you want?” I said through gritted teeth.

“Right. So this is what I find funny. A man who was driving when an accident occurred, which resulted in killing his son, and the same man who tried to make his wife’s fainting look like a suicide attempt . . . is now wanting to file for divorce. I’m seeing a pattern. If I’m not mistaken, Mr. Saco, you only married Olivia Reynolds because she was going to have your baby. Is that correct?”

I didn’t say anything. I just sat there trying to control my breathing.

“I’ll take your silence as a confirmation. So that means you never really wanted a life with her, and that includes a family. It is quite convenient that your son is out of the picture. And now, after waiting a long enough time that it wouldn’t seem suspicious to most, you try to get your wife put in a psych ward before divorcing her. Now that, Mr. Saco, seems very suspicious, if you ask me. And since we are asking me . . . I’ll just inform you now that if you continue with your filing, we will press charges for trying to make Olivia look suicidal so you could force her into a psych ward, which will only bring up the question of whether the car accident was actually an accident or not.”

My breaths were coming fast, too fast. It felt like I was going to be sick. This couldn’t be happening.

“We wouldn’t want that to happen, now would we?”

“What game are you all playing at? No one in that family, including Olivia, can stand me. She’s always making bullshit accusations about things I’ve done that have scared her. She’s said I’ve hurt her. For Christ’s sake, her parents put in a formal complaint to get me fired for it. They made this huge, dramatic scene at the hospital yesterday about not letting me near her because of what I had allegedly done. And now suddenly it’s the opposite? They want to file something against me because I haven’t called begging her to come home when she can willingly do it herself? They have you watching for me, and you’re coming in here threatening me if I file for divorce? What is the point of all this back-and-forth bullshit?”

“Ooh.” He held his hands up and winced. “Threatening is such a harsh word, Mr. Saco. As a lawyer, I’m not threatening; I’m simply strongly advising you against something you would regret immensely. Most people pay me five hundred an hour for this kind of advice. You’re lucky I’m giving it to you for free.”

I stood and started to leave, but stopped when he grabbed my wrist.

“Mr. Saco, I am strongly advising you that you go home and take care of your wife the way you’re supposed to. You don’t want the Reynoldses to have to call me again. We wouldn’t want to see what would happen to your career, or your brother’s, or heaven forbid your house, his house, or your parents’ house if you decide to ignore my advice. I’ll tell you once again, this is merely advice. You don’t want to see what happens when I start threatening.”

Slowly, I turned to look down at him and watched as his challenging eyes met mine.

“Now you have a nice day, Mr. Saco.”

Kamryn

June 17, 2015

I HANDED OFF a tray of pastries to Grace to take up to the front and turned to begin filling and icing a few dozen cupcakes when the shop’s phone rang. Looking around the counter until I spotted it, I grabbed it and put it between my shoulder and cheek.

“KC’s Sweet Treats,” I said by way of greeting.

“Hey.”

I stopped reaching for the cupcakes as my body heated and tingled, my stomach simultaneously started churning, and I held my breath. One word. One simple word and I felt like I could easily faint from the effect his voice had on me—or get sick because of the stress I could tell he was trying so hard to hide.

“Brody, what happened?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Nothing. I, uh, I’d just called you earlier and never heard back. I wanted to be able to get ahold of you before I went in to work.”

“You called?” I patted my apron and pockets and sighed. “I don’t have my phone on me. It’s either in my purse or my car, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t—Kamryn, don’t ever say you’re sorry.”

My forehead bunched together in confusion and worry. “Brody, what’s wrong?”

“Nothi—”

“Don’t lie, what you just said is not something you would say in normal conversation. And besides that, you never call me before work, and I can hear it in your voice—something happened. So tell me.”

He was silent for a few heavy moments, and in that time I felt the blood draining from my face.

“There are just times when I need to hear your voice. I need to be able to talk to you because I can’t see you . . . and I just need you.” He cursed away from the phone. “For so many reasons.”

I worried my bottom lip as I waited for anything else he might have to say, but there was nothing. “You’re scaring me,” I admitted softly.

“I want to be able to give you everything, Kamryn . . . and it kills me that I’m in a situation where I can’t. But you know what makes it that much harder? I feel like I don’t know how to get out of the situation and get through all this bullshit without you right there. Right. Fucking. There. By my side. But because of the circumstances, I have to find a way.”

“Brody . . .”

“And sometimes that just feels impossible.”

My chest ached for him, and it felt like I was struggling to stay standing as I listened to him admit all this to me. “Tell me what happened,” I pleaded.

“Nothing,” he finally replied. “Nothing happened, sweetheart. I’m just trying to figure out a way for this all to go away for us, and some days it seems harder than others. I wanted to vent and hear your voice. That’s all.”

My lips tilted up slightly, but that sickening feeling like he wasn’t telling me everything wasn’t lessening.

Brody

June 17, 2015

STEPPING INTO THE kitchen late that night after work, I froze when I saw Olivia sitting at the table.

“Brody, I—” She cut off on a sob and dropped her head into her hands, her entire body shaking with the movements. “I’m so sorry.”

I didn’t make a move toward her, and I didn’t say anything. It was all I could do to keep from clenching my jaw so hard that it felt like it was about to break. My hands curled into fists, and I crossed my arms over my chest to keep them close. I wouldn’t touch her, but I didn’t trust myself to not throw whatever was closest to me right now.

“They made me do it, you have to believe me. They made me say you planted it! I didn’t want to, but you know how my parents are.”

My eyebrows shot up at her desperate plea for me to believe her. Tears included, this was the sanest I’d seen Liv in years. “What are you saying, Olivia?”

“I didn’t—couldn’t do it anymore. I wanted to be with Tate,” she sobbed and clutched at her chest. “I can’t deal with this pain, Brody. It’s killing me! So I-I-I just took them all.”

Walking over to the kitchen table, I pulled out the chair closest to her and sat down. Leaning forward, I grabbed her arms as gently as possible, and pulled them back when she tried to cover her face again. “Olivia . . . what? No, the report came back. The doctor said you didn’t have any of it in your system.”

“They must have something on him, or paid him off . . . something! They told me they couldn’t have this ruining their family name, so they needed to make it seem like a medical condition. But, Brody, I swear I didn’t know they were going to try to throw the blame on you! I’m so sorry.”

I shook my head back and forth and leaned back in the chair. “No. No way. Liv, you’re just as manipulative as they are. The things you’ve been telling them—no. I’m not falling for this shit again,” I said as I stood to leave.

“Brody, please!”