Page 86 of Accidental Vegas Vows

“Yeah, and you’re a piece of shit for it.” Her lipstick stained the edge of the glass as she held it against her lips. “I’ll never let you live it down. But you’ve got to get yourself together for your fucking son, Dame.”

She wasn’t wrong. I’d won custody and then failed spectacularly at being a parent recently. Chicken nuggets for dinner every night, an endless stream of Disney movies on the television to entertain him, and shutting myself into the kitchen pantry with a couch cushion to scream into weren’t exactly good parenting choices when it was nonstop. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d cooked a proper meal for myself, or more importantly, Noah.

“I can’t.” The lip of the glass tinked against my teeth. “I’ve tried.”

“You’re here,” she offered. “That’s a start.”

“I showered for the first time in a week this morning. That’s not a start.”

“Have you talked to her?”

I shook my head and took a sip of wine. “I tried, for the first couple of days. She didn’t answer my calls or reply to my texts. I can’t blame her.”

She rolled her lower lip between her teeth as her fingernails plucked at the chipping red paint of her lounger.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Hmm?”

“You’re worrying. You’re doing that thing with your lip.”

She sighed and finally tore her gaze from the distance, turning to look at me instead. “I just don’t know how much I should say. I basically made a promise to her that I wouldn’t blab to you about the things she told me, but I don’t know how much salt that’s worth anymore.”

Oh, fuck. “She talked to you about me?”

“Of course she did, Dame. She was your wife.”

“She’s still my wife,” I rasped. The court date wasn’t for another week.

Caroline picked up the bottle of wine from the cooling bucket and poured herself another glass before topping up mine. “She had feelings for you,” she said, and my jaw steeled.

“I gathered that much.”

“She wasn’t sure if she could tell you. She didn’t say it, but I got the impression that she was scared you didn’t feel the same toward her,” she stated. “I think she was worried that for you, it was an opportunity to put things on someone. A weight-carrier, if you will. I think she was a lot deeper into it than you realize.”

I swallowed. That didn’t make me feel better. “She wasn’t that to me.”

“I don’t think she knew that. And if she did, it wasn’t until after your little speech in court.”

“I will have only made that worse by doing what I did.” I chugged my glass in one go before refilling it and wishing it was something stronger.

“She told me that if it wasn’t for her parents, she wouldn’t want the annulment,” she continued. “She was struggling with that. She wanted it, but she didn’t want it at all. And I think she was scared of what that meant for her, and for you, and for Noah. I think she loved you, Damien. And I think you ruined it so badly it might not be fixable.”

I poured myself another serving and didn’t bother with society’s expectations of the max allowance in a wine glass. I filled it entirely, and downed half. “I think you’re right. On all accounts.”

Knowing that a part of her didn’t want the annulment did nothing for battling demons inside of me that didn’t want it, either. But it did give a minuscule amount of comfort to know that I wasn’t the only one.

“She wanted me to say it,” I said. “That I loved her. I couldn’t.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” I sighed. “Maybe it was because the last person I said that to in a relationship cheated on me and hid a son from me, and then died. Maybe it was because I was terrified to give myself to her when I have Noah to worry about. Maybe I’m not sure enough about it. Maybe it’s because if I do and we’re together, she has the potential to hurt not only me but also my son if she leaves. She’s young, Carrie. That word doesn’t hold as much weight for her.”

“So you don’t love her?” she asked, one brow raising.

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t not say it. And for her, you basically confirmed that by dodging it when she asked you.”

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