Page 64 of Heart of Frost and Scars

“I’m not the right person for that. My family was—”

“They are your family.” She points at their glaring faces. “Embrace them. Build something better together. It won’t be easy. It’ll take time and patience, but dammit, Monty, you built a fucking global enterprise from the ground up. I know you can create a home where everyone feels valued and loved. I want that for you. For all three of you.”

“What about you?”

“Did you move my things from your bedroom? Your closet? Your bathroom?”

I press my lips together and blow out through my nose.

“Monty.” She sighs. “Let me go.”

“Can’t do that, Frankie.”

“You returned my phone.” She gestures at the device on the table. “Thank you for that. Now I need you to sell my wedding rings.”

“What?” My fists clench. “Fuck no.”

“I want a divorce.”

“Never.” The objection rips from me like flayed skin, making me roar in pain.

“You must.” Her shoulders slump. “It’s over.”

“No. Anything but that.” My ears ring. My lungs collapse. I bend forward, my body folding in on itself. “Anything else. Anything.”

“Okay, okay.” Her hands hover around me, reaching but not touching. “Shhh. It’s okay.”

Touch me. Please, put me out of my misery and fucking touch me.

“Will you guys give us a minute?” she asks quietly.

“Absolutely not.” Leo scowls.

“Then behave.” A beat of silence passes between them before she scoots her chair closer to me. “Monty. Look at me.” She tentatively places a hand beneath my chin, lifting it. “Please.”

The touch is light, but it sizzles through my nerve endings and electrocutes my blood like a goddamn thunderbolt.

I let the exquisite warmth of her fingers guide my face upward. Then I fall. I fall right into her gaze, knowing she sees the devastation in mine.

“I can’t.” I clasp her wrist, lowering her hand from my jaw to my chest. “I won’t survive it.”

A low, comforting hum slips past her lips, a sound of shared solace.

“What happened last night?” She presses closer, giving me her full attention. “Did you sleep?”

“I took the yacht out.”

“You got drunk.” Her nostrils pulse as if scenting it on me. “And broke a wall.”

“Not in that order.”

“Okay.” She presses her palm against my chest, directly over my heart. “You said anything else. Anything but a divorce.”

“Anything.”

“Get help.”

“Help?” My hand twitches around hers.

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