Page 35 of Duty and Desire
“I need you to sign the divorce papers he gave you.”
“What?” A laugh escapes, and she lifts her head to glare at me.
“I know he gave you divorce papers. I need you to sign them so he and I can get married.” She rests her hand on her stomach, probably to remind me that she’s carrying his child.
“I don’t know what Conner told you, Catharine, but I’ve already signed the divorce papers.”
“Don’t lie.” Her nostrils flare. “He told me you’ve refused to sign them until he gives you the money you asked for.”
“Is that what he said?” I try really hard not to start laughing, but it’s honestly difficult, given the situation.
“He told me everything.” She sits up a little straighter in the chair she’s in, no longer looking as unsure or ill as she did earlier. “I know you cheated on him and that, even when he forgave you for forsaking your vows, you didn’t stop sleeping around. And now you’re trying to get every single penny you can from him.”
“I think you and Conner need to have an honest conversation about what’s really going on,” I tell her gently because getting upset cannot be good for her or the baby if she is pregnant.
“He’s always honest with me,” she snaps while slapping her hand down on the top of the conference table, making me jump. “For once, think about him and how what you’ve done has affected him.”
Taking a breath, I think about trying to tell her again that I already signed the divorce papers, and thatConneris the onerefusing to jot his name on the dotted line, but I can tell by her demeanor she won’t believe me. “All right.” I stand. “I’ll sign the papers.”
“What?” She blinks up at me.
“I’ll sign the papers.”
“You will?”
“Absolutely.” I shrug and head toward the door, ready for this awkward conversation to be over. I hear her get up.
“How will I know you’re being honest about signing the papers?” she asks, stepping out of the conference room as I hold open the door.
“If he doesn’t have them from my lawyer by tomorrow, you can stop by, and I’ll give you a copy,” I tell her, and it hurts me to see her so relieved by my response. I know her trust in Conner is misplaced, but I can see she has to learn that difficult lesson all on her own.
“Thank you.”
“Mm-hmm.” I watch her walk toward the hall that leads to the exit, and as she disappears out of sight, I hope like heck Conner does right by her and the child she’s carrying.
Sitting on the front porch,I watch Lola, Louie, Chanel, and Coco wander around in the thick grass of the front yard. When I got home from work this evening, I decided to bring the pups outside to explore—something they hadn’t been big enough to do until now. I wasn’t sure they would take to the change of environment, but from the minute we got outside, they started exploring every blade of grass and haven’t stopped since.
When I hear a car coming down the driveway, my stomach instantly starts to flutter. Noah sent me a text letting me know hewould be home in time for dinner, which is a bonus with his new position. I guess the overnight shifts he had been working are a thing of the past. Or maybe they’ll just be few and far between now.
As a familiar car comes into sight through the trees, the flutters in my stomach instantly turn to anxiety.
“Lola,” I call, and her head flies around before she starts running my way. Thankfully, all the puppies follow her lead. “Come on, guys. Hurry.” I pat my thigh and open the door to the house as Conner parks his car at the edge of the walkway.
“Bridgett!” he shouts as I try to get the puppies inside.
“Go away, Conner!” I yell back without looking at him, my attention on the pups circling my feet and Lola, who is now barking. Just when I start to step inside, hoping the dogs will follow, he snatches my biceps in a tight grip. “Let me go.”
On instinct, I spin toward him and shove his chest with all my might. Instead of releasing me, he stumbles off the step, taking me with him. I hit the ground hard, my hip taking most of the impact while he lands on his back with a grunt.
He groans. “We need to talk.”
“No.” I scramble to my feet and try to make it to the door, but his hand goes around my ankle, tripping me. I fall face-first toward the concrete steps, barely catching myself with my hands while my knee slams into the edge of the stair. A surge of adrenaline and anger flood my system, and I flip around to my bottom and start kicking, not caring one single bit where I hit him.
“Stop it! I just want to talk to you.” He yelps when I catch him in the jaw with the edge of my foot, but he doesn’t release me. Instead, he grabs the foot that just kicked him and stands.
“Let me go!” I scream, but he doesn’t. Instead, he yanks me fully down the stairs, causing my head to hit the ground with a thud.
“Shut the fuck up!” he roars at Lola, then tries to kick her. Thankfully she’s nimble and quick, and he misses.
