Page 89 of Broken

“You’ve drawn up the divorce papers?” Drake asks.

“No. Not yet,” I admit. I should have had them drafted the day I found out the truth about her, but I’ve been distracted. That’s what I’m telling myself anyway.

My father’s eyes narrow at me from across the table. “What’s stopping you, son?”

I glare at him. “I’ve been busy. It’s only been a couple of weeks. I’ll handle it.”

“I can handle it for you if you’d like?” Drake suggests.

I swallow the lump in my throat and shake my head. “No, it’s fine. I’ll do it myself.” Having those papers drafted will make everything seem so final, and I don’t think I’m ready for that quite yet.

“If you’re sure.” Drake eyes me with concern.

“I’ll take care of it,” I insist.

Our father snorts a laugh. What the hell is his problem? He’s the reason I’m even in this mess. His need for a legacy fucked up my entire life. I was fine before, and now I’m walking around in some sort of fucking daze. He eyes me suspiciously. “Don’t tell me you fell in love with the girl?”

I grind my teeth, and the muscles in my jaw tighten. We all fucking fell in love with her, but none of us are going to admit it. “No. I did not fall in love with her. I told you, I’ve been fucking busy.”

“So get the papers drawn up and get this shitshow over with,” Dad says, like it’s that easy, which is bullshit. I know he’s as hurt by her betrayal as I am.

“Why, Dad? So you can set me up with the next gold digger?”

The vein in his temple twitches, his face turning a deep shade of pink. I can feel my brothers’ eyes on me, silently urging me to stop pushing him. Of all of us, I seem to be the one who’s able to ignite his short fuse with the least amount of effort.

“Has anyone heard from Maddox lately?” Drake asks, swiftly changing the subject. Not that our baby brother is an easier topic for our father to handle, but at least it takes the heat off me, and for that I offer Drake an appreciative nod.

Elijah takes a sip of his Scotch. “I believe he’s currently headed to Tuscany. At least that was his plan when I spoke with him a couple of days ago.”

“He should also be at home where he belongs,” our father grumbles.

“Or maybe he should be out there enjoying his life while he’s still young enough to do so,” I snap.

That wins me yet another fierce glare before he shoves his chair back. “Elijah. Come take a walk with me. You can fill me in on the new Denver deal.”

Elijah rolls his eyes at me but does as our father bids, and the two of them walk out of the kitchen, leaving Drake, Mason, and me alone.

“Do you actually want to serve her with divorce papers?” Mason asks.

I run my tongue over my bottom lip and stare up at the ceiling. “I don’t fucking know.”

Drake leans forward, his hands clasped on the table in front of him. “So there’s a chance that you don’t?”

“I guess that’s what I don’t know means.”

Mason runs hand over his beard while Drake sits back in his chair and blinks at me. “Wow, bro,” Drake says. “I assumed that after what she did, you wouldn’t even entertain the idea of reconciliation.”

I scowl at him. “Who said anything about reconciliation, asshole?”

He scowls right back. “So you don’t want to divorce her, but you don’t want to reconcile either? You’re just going to leave yourself in some kind of limbo, not to mention her?”

I snarl. “You think she deserves any better than that?”

“No, I think that you do. Why torture yourself any further? If it’s over, end it.”

My pulse quickens, and anger fizzes in my veins. “Maybe it’s not that fucking easy, Drake. Don’t you think I want this to be over? Don’t you think I wish every single fucking day that I didn’t know what it was like to feel loved by her, even if it was allan act. If I could forget how good she felt in my arms, how her smile could make even the shittiest day brighter, how fucking good she tasted, I would do it in a heartbeat.”

Drake opens his mouth to speak, but Mason puts a hand on our brother’s arm, obviously making him think twice about whatever it was he was about to say.

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