Page 56 of The Fate of Us

“Cut the shit, Claire. We are divorced. You failed to contest any of it so it was finalized.”

She shrugs her shoulders and smiles like a snake, a smile I have never seen before. “Unfortunately for you, I did contest the divorce but for some reason those letters from my lawyer never appeared before the judge.”

I have no idea what she is talking about. My brother and I spent a year trying to find her and when we finally did, spent six months trying to get her to sign the divorce papers. “What are you talking about? The divorce was never contested.”

“Maybe you should talk to brother dearest. He probably hid them. He never liked me.”

She is crazy. I think she has lost it. My family loved her. They were just as devastated when she walked away as I was. “I’ll talk to him. But right now, I need you to leave.”

“I’m not leaving, Noah.”

“Why are you here then?” I ask, holding back every urge to literally pick her up and toss her out.

“I needed time to think. Our marriage was falling apart. We were in two separate headspaces. And I just needed time.” She stretches out her hand to grab mine but I pull it away. “I never should have left you. I love you, Noah.”

I watch a tear slide down her cheek and fight the urge to make it better. I loved Claire. I loved her so much it took me five years to get over her. It took Anna to get over her. But I cannot have her here messing with my emotions. “It’s been five years, Claire. Five fucking years,” I grit.

“I know. I’m so sorry.” She starts crying and this time I reach for her hand out of habit. “I should have come back sooner.”

“I’ve moved on.”

She grips my hand tight, her nails leaving marks in my skin. “Give me a chance. Please, Noah.”

I pull my hand away from hers. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I can’t walk this path with you again. You tore my heart apart, Claire. I spent years trying to figure out why you left. Why you walked away from me with nothing but a note. And I can’t let you do that again.”

“I won’t.”

I shake my head and stand, moving behind the dining chair and grip the back. “That’s not what I mean. I won’t let this happen. That woman who ran out of here. I love her. I love her so fucking much. I can’t lose her.”

“But what about me?”

“What about you?” I growl. “I don’t care, Claire. I don’t. You left me. You walked away. And when I got those divorce papers and the judge filed them, I thought it meant I would never see you again.”

She sniffles but it sounds insincere. I walk to the front door of my house and yell. “Get out, Claire.”

She stands from her chair, grabbing her designer handbag, and meets me at the front door. “I’m still your wife,” she mutters.

“No, you aren’t.” I grip the back of my neck. “I’ll call Carson. Get this figured out.”

She goes into her bag and finds a piece of paper and a pen. “Here’s my number, baby. Call me.”

I crush the paper in my hand, angry over the endearment. Before I can push her out the door, she wraps her arms around my neck and presses her lips to mine.

And I make the mistake of not pulling away, not pushing her off me. Because the kiss brings back so many memories. Memories of the ten years we had together before she threw it all away. I don’t even realize I’m kissing her back until she moans into my mouth.

And that’s when I realize her lips aren’t the ones I want on mine. They are thin and sticky, not the plump ones I dream of. Her nails sharp as they dig into my skull, not the soft, callused hands that caress my body every night. And when I open my eyes, I see strawberry-blond hair, not the fire of my fierce wildflower.

I push her away and wipe my mouth, appalled at myself for letting that happen. When I look at Claire, that snake-like grin is back on her face. “I’ll see you around, stud.”

She walks out of my house and to her car. My heart and head battling over the reaction to her old nickname for me.

When I see her pull away, I slam the door and grab my phone to call Carson. I want nothing more than to run to Anna but I know her. I know her better than anyone and I know right now she needs time.

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