Page 73 of Beachside Kisses With My Best Friend

“Ugh.”

“Ugh is right.” I unhook the lights from the tree and start winding them up. I still don’t understand why she’s choosing to tackle this tonight, but I’m going to help so she knows she isn’t alone in it. “Anyway, Sam basically spent hours grilling me about every aspect of our relationship, and he still wasn’t satisfied that our position is strong enough to win. I told him I’d like to speak, to tell our side of the story, and he said no way.”

“Really? Why?”

“Said there are too many holes in our story, that the judge might not believe us. And it opens me up to their shark of an attorney’s cross examination. Who knows what else they could bring up.”

Marilee’s fingers tremble as she reaches for another hook—and she yelps, yanking it back.

“You okay?” I reach for her hand and pull it close to find her fingertip bleeding from a prick. “Hang on.”

In the bathroom, I find a Band-Aid and some first aid cream and rush back to her. She’s sitting on the couch, tears streaming down her face yet again.

I slide onto the coffee table in front of her. “Does it hurt really bad?”

“No.”

“You sure? It seems like it does.” I reach for her hand again.

“I’ll do it,” she says softly.

“I don’t mind.”

“Just…please hand me the bandage, Jay.”

My forehead furrows as I place the Neosporin and Band-Aid beside her. “What’s wrong?”

She uses her teeth to unscrew the lid of the cream. “Other than the fact you might lose your son because of me? Oh, nothing much.” A large blob of the Neosporin shoots from the tube onto her finger.

“Because of you? The bowling alley was a simple mistake, just like leaking the contract.”

Marilee rips open the Band-Aid next, and the disposable flaps and wrapper float down to the ground at her feet. “This whole marriage of convenience was my idea. Another stupid idea from my stupid brain—not thinking things through, just like always. I’ve brought my chaos into your life, into Ryder’s life, and I will never forgive myself if you lose him because of me.”

She flicks the bandage around her finger, and tears dot the lenses of her glasses.

What is she saying? “Geez, Lee, come on. It doesn’t matter how this marriage started. We’ll just tell the judge how it is now?—”

“Like Sam said, he’ll never believe us.”

“He might.”

She stands again abruptly, and I do too, reaching for her—but she’s back at that darn tree.

And I see what she’s doing now, why she’s yanking those ornaments off with fervor. “I’m not letting you do this.” I reach into the box and rehang ornaments at the same speed she’s pulling them down.

“Jordan.” She stomps her little foot, and it would be adorable if it didn’t terrify me. If this—her attempt to put away the thing in this house that I left up for her and her alone—didn’t mean…

“You can’t leave, Lee. I know what you’re thinking here. That you have somehow ruined my chance to keep Ryder. But I don’t think that’s true. I think if we tell the judge that you’re here and this is real and you’re what is best for Ryder because he loves you like a mom?—”

“But I’m not, am I? His mom. However much I want to be. And I’m not your wife, not really.”

She might as well have taken a whisk to my insides, scrambling them up like eggs. “Look, I know what I said yesterday, about not trapping you in this marriage.” And I meant it. But I didn’t tell her what I really want. I should have and I didn’t. But I’m going to now. “But?—”

“And you were right. I have a choice here.”

My heart pounds in my throat because, yes, she does. “So you’re just going to, what? Walk away?”

Stepping forward, she grabs my hands, and I can feel the rough bandage covering her soft touch, a barrier between us. “I will always be here for you. For Ryder. But right now, I think it’s better if we get a little space to think about what’s best for all of us. So I’m going to go stay with Blake and Lucy for… Well, I don’t know how long. Okay?”

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