Page 150 of My Wife
“Just a bad apple tried to spoil my excitement over the win.”
Liam’s gaze narrows toward the hallway. “Do you mean Henri Valjean?”
“That name sounds familiar.”
“He’s Marci’s brother.”
“The one who—?” I cut myself off because I don’t want to bring up the past. At least not right now.
“Remember you offered to listen if I talked about it later?” he asks, eyes dark.
“Yeah. I mean anytime, but now?”
He nods slowly. “You were right. I’d been shouldering the blame. Carrying it around with me. That’s not to say that Valjean doesn’t have a right to be upset, but it happened ten years ago. That doesn’t change the outcome, but …”
The end of the sentence Liam doesn’t say is that it truly wasn’t his fault. Instead, as he looks up, he utters, “Valjean.”
This time Valjean approaches with his hockey stick lifted.
“Oh, wow. It’s you again. Fancy meeting you here. Such a great game. The Titans really wowed,” I say brightly.
Valjean glowers. “I was looking for him and I told you, if you know what’s good for you?—”
I twist my hands like I’m presenting a game show prize. “Liam Ellis in the flesh and he is very good for me.” I shimmy up to his side.
He scowls at the Titans player.
“Tell your yappy little dog to get out of the way. We’re going to finish this once and for all.” Valjean lifts his stick.
Liam’s fists tighten and his glare deepens.
“Those sound like fighting words. Let’s not do anything we’ll regret, guys.”
Liam’s nostrils flare. His chest lifts on an inhale, reminding me of an old-fashioned fire bellows that feeds the flame.
“Tell her to get lost … or else,” Valjean says.
My husband grinds out, “You are talking aboutmy wife.” Liam’s tone is assertive and protective.
Trying to keep things light and upbeat, I say, “I do yip.”
Liam says softly, “Jessica, you have a very pleasant voice.”
“Oh well, thank you. I’m not really a singer, unless in the car with the windows down. In fact, that helped me get through the long drive to Cobbiton from Los Angeles.”
But my rambling is lost as the guys face off.
Valjean spits, “Tell her to zip it or I’m going to shut her up if you don’t?—”
I watch the hurtful words coming out of Valjean’s thin-lipped little mouth and then he disappears. I mean, not really. There’s no wizardry involved. More like Liam levels him. No punches are thrown, but he shoves him down, making him sit and shut up.
“I’m done with you lording over my life, making me pay for something that wasn’t my fault.”
And there it is. He finally said it.
Valjean tries to get to his feet. Liam holds him in place with one hand.
“No, listen to me. I’ve punished myself for years. Nothing you can do to me will hurt worse than what I’ve caused myself. I’ve taken your abuse on the ice, physically and the comments you’ve made about Hendrix.”
