Page 16 of Rebound

Mason deals with everything related to Jamestech’s corporate image, and if Amber and I do split up, people will need to know. There will be a press release, and a surge of public interest, and… Fuck. That is a problem for another day.

“Don’t worry about that crap,” Mason says. “You just concentrate on getting shit-faced with the others, okay? That’s your one job for today.”

“Getting shit-faced is my one job?”

“Damn right, and I can tell you’re going to ace it. I love you, brother. See you in a few days, okay? Stay strong.”

I put my phone back in my pocket and take another long swig of Scotch.

“If it sticks?” Drake says, looking at me intently. “Do you think there’s a chance it won’t? Do you think there’s a chance you could work things out?”

Nathan’s knife clatters to the table, but Maddox shoots him a warning look.

“I don’t know. It’s all been a hell of a shock. I had no idea she was heading in this direction. She might be my wife, but she’s a mystery to me. Things haven’t been great, especially recently, but I thought… Fuck, I don’t know. I suppose I thought she was as firmly committed to our misery as I was. Which, now that I say it out loud, is totally fucked up. Jeez.” I scrub my hand through my hair and groan. “I just don’t know what the fuck to do with myself. Nothing feels right without her.”

They’re all silent for a few moments. I hold my face in my hands and fight against the tears that want to pour out.

“It’ll be okay, Elijah,” Maddox says. “Mason was right. Time will help. It always does.”

“And it hasn’t happened yet,” Drake adds. “It’s not over ’til it’s over. You need to keep talking to her. Don’t give up.”

“Here.” Nathan pours more Scotch into my mug. “Drink this.”

I do as I’m told and realize I’m topping up last night’s excess. Mason was right about that too—I am indeed going to ace my one job for the day.

“We’re here,” Nathan says, his hand solid on my shoulder. “We’re here for as long as you need us.”

“Yeah?” I ask, glancing up at him. “I know you mean that, and I appreciate it. But I also know that part of you is wondering about the prenup and already considering the divorce settlement.”

His eyes tell me I’ve hit the jackpot, and he shrugs. “I’m not going to lie—those things have crossed my mind. Those things matter. Nobody expects divorce to get as bad as they almost always do, and even couples who part on good terms can get dragged into the dirt.”

He doesn’t have to add that Amber and I are hardly a couple on good terms, and I hate that he’s right. I also hate that I understand where he’s coming from—he’s my brother, my family, and he’s looking out for me. He wants to protect me the only way he knows how.

“Well, I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news,” I reply, reaching for my Scotch with a shaking hand. “We didn’t have a prenup. Dad advised it, you advised, even Amber said she wouldn’t mind… but I never saw the need. I believed in us. I believed in me and Amber. I believed in our future together. Is this where you say I told you so?”

“No, it’s not. No amount of I-told-you-sos could make up for seeing you like this, Elijah. I’m sorry, I really am. The way I feel about Amber isn’t likely to change, but I do understand better these days. Back then, I was a baby cynic. I never believed in the fairytale like you did, and I hate seeing you hurt like this.”

I nod and suck in more booze. Of all us James boys, he’s always been the most cynical when it comes to matters of the heart. It’s ironic that he ended up with the fairytale he didn’t believe in and I ended up with nothing.

I never considered how that must have made Amber feel. She knew the whole story involving my dad’s intervention, that he found Nathan a wife specifically so he could produce an heir, which he has gone on to do. In Amber’s mind, that should have been her. She will have felt the sting of it, the rejection, the failure. The fact that because she couldn’t have kids, Nathan was being asked to step up and fill that gap. Fuck. Now that I know more about what was going on with her, I see things so much more clearly. How hard has all of this been for my wife? How much pain has she been hiding?

She asked me not to contact her for a few days, so it’s not like I can ask. It’s also not necessarily going to change where we’re headed. If she wants out, she wants out—and I have to face up to the fact that it might be for the best—for both of us. It’s sad, but in the real world, sad things happen every damn day.

I feel like boiled shit right now, but there’s every possibility that once the shock fades, I will feel differently. Who knows? Maybe I’ll be out clubbing with Mason. Maybe I’ll meet someone else and go on to have a completely different future. A second act.

Hell. I hate everything about this. I raise my Scotch mug to my brothers in a twisted version of a toast. Today, I will let myself fall apart in the safe company of my siblings. Today, I will concentrate on doing my one job—getting shit-faced.

Tomorrow… Who the fuck knows?

ChapterTen

AMBER

I’ve been staying with Granny Lucille for the last three days, and she finally dragged me outside today. Against the odds, I’m enjoying myself, and feeling the fall sunshine on my skin has done me good. The weather in Charleston is perfect at this time of year, and I almost forgot how beautiful it is. I suppose I almost forgot how beautiful anything is.

Waterfront Park is a pretty place with stunning views of the river and the harbor. We strolled here from her house in the French Quarter, waved off by her friend Vivienne, who stopped by for a late lunch. Now we’re sitting by the pineapple fountain, watching the sunset. This park, and the crazy fountain that is literally in the shape of a pineapple, was built when I was a little girl. There was always a real sense of excitement coming here. I used to love splashing around in the water and clambering onto the wooden swings under the pier. I would dance and cartwheel over the grassy spaces like a human tumbleweed, and Granny would treat me to ice cream, benne wafers, or crab cakes, depending on what mood we were in.

They were simpler times. Happy times. My memories of this place, of her quirky home in one of the most historic parts of the city, are pure and filled with joy. Granny has always been eccentric, but always felt warm and safe. She looked after me so well, and I knew I could count on her. Life here was the complete opposite of my life at school or at home with my parents. I loved my visits to Charleston and spent the rest of the year looking forward to summers full of endless hot, humid days. I never got tired of spending time with her, not even when I was a teenager.

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