Page 179 of Hard to Resist

EPILOGUE

CULLEN

“Here you go.” Halston slides the document across the table.

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

I pick up the paper, staring at the four words printed in all caps smack in the middle.

FINAL DECREE OF DIVORCE

It is over.

It is finally fucking over.

I have no ties left to Celine—not physically, not mentally, and now, not legally.

It took longer than Halston had anticipated, an extra two months before the judge settled our case and another month after that till the decree was processed and our marriage dissolved.

“Halston, I’m so happy I could kiss you, man.”

“Save that for you girlfriend.”

Verity.

I have to see her right now.

“Thanks for everything, Hughes.”

“I’ll send you my final bill.”

“I’m sure you will.”

“And Cullen?”

“Yeah?”

“If we ever have to work together again in this lifetime, I will kill you.”

“You don’t have to worry about that.”

I stand up and gather my stuff, carefully placing the decree in my backpack, and then make my way to my girl.

I use the spare key Verity gave me the other week and let myself into her apartment. She hasn’t texted me back, but I know she’s working on some stuff for the Harver Group.

I still don’t love all the time she is spending with Garrett, but I am beyond proud of all the work she is doing for their company. Her branding for their new Miami and Malibu branches has been iconic, and they’ve extended her contract to create some advertisements, with the new season ofManhattan Millionsstarting up.

Her freelance business is taking off. She has old clients from her time at Delute reaching out, but also new companies who are hearing about her through the grapevine. Even Kelton put in a good word for her business.

I knock on her bedroom door before opening it.

Verity is seated at her desk, headphones on, humming along to a tune. Her back is to me, and I watch as she fiddles around with the shading of the graphic she’s working on.

I slip behind her, resting my hand on her desk and leaning forward to squint at her screen.

She lets out a screech, her desk chair rolling back and narrowly missing my foot. She rips off her headphones and uses them to whack me in the middle of my chest.

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