Page 61 of One Night Bride
“Thanks, Iz.”
The doorbell rang. We both stared at each other, frozen. Then we both ran down the stairs in a frenzy. I had no idea who it was, but I had a feeling it had to do with Remy. My heart was so hopeful, so light, I felt like a kid again, getting into adventures with my twin. She beat me to the door, only because she hip-checked me in the living room, a maneuver I was not expecting from my kind and sweet sister.
I rubbed my hip while she swung the door open to reveal a guy who looked like he spent more time on a Harley than he did talking to people.
“Esme Waldo?” he barked.
I stepped forward with a frown. “Yes, that’s me.”
He shoved a thick envelope at me. “You’ve been served.” Then he spun around and thumped his heavy boots across my deck.
My brain shut down, all that hope and playfulness a moment ago leaving in an instant. I’ve been served? What the actual fuck?
Izzy closed the door and locked it, putting her arm around my shoulders. “Let’s go in the living room.” She guided me there, which was good because nothing was making any sense. Could this be…? No. He was here in Hell to make up with me, not to serve me divorce papers. Right?
“Oh, Izzy,” I said quietly, my breath coming in uneven pants. “I got it all wrong. He’s here to start the divorce, not to get back together.”
“I don’t understand. Why meet at the marina? Why is he here at all? He could have had you served and stayed in Wyoming.” Izzy rattled off questions that were swirling in my head too.
Tears burned their way into my eyes. I stared down at the manila envelope, the weight of the papers not nearly as heavy as the feeling in my chest. It was over. My fingers found the flap and bent the little metal prongs, pulling out a stack of papers that looked extremely official. The first page swam in front of me and I had to blink rapidly to read it.
Court of Nevada - petition for dissolution of marriage.
I felt like breaking into sobs. Felt like throwing the papers in the trash. Hell, I felt like climbing into my bed and never coming back out again. The world was too harsh. It was all just too much for me anymore. But then something else started to burn away the sadness and shame of not being wanted by the one man I cared about.
Dad would call it pulling myself up by my bootstraps.
Alcoholics Anonymous would call it hitting rock bottom.
I was tougher than this.
I lost my business and my husband, but I would never lose myself.
“Esme?” Izzy asked beside me, worry evident in her tone.
I turned to her, stuffing the papers back in the envelope.
“I’m still going to the marina. He left without giving me a chance to make things right, and though I probably deserved that, I’ll tell him everything I planned on saying. If he still wants this divorce, then I’ll sign on the dotted line. But I won’t sit here and cry anymore.”
Izzy sucked in a deep breath. “Good for you, babe. Esme Waldo goes after what she wants and doesn’t take no for an answer.”
I managed a weak smile. “I might have to take no for an answer, but he’s not the only fish in the sea.”
“Or the only cowboy in Wyoming,” Izzy added.
That made my lips twitch. “If this doesn’t work out, I may have to pass on any future cowboys.”
Izzy nodded, looking thoughtful. “Makes sense. His ass in Levi’s is pretty much perfection.”
I pretended shock. “Izzy Waldo, have you been checking out my husband’s butt?”
She snorted and stood up, pulling me off the couch. “Kind of hard to miss.”
My smile faded, thinking about how this might be the last time I ever saw Remington’s ass. Or his bright blue eyes. Or his broad smile and wide chest. Or the scar on his right thumb that I liked to stroke my finger over when we held hands.
“Stop thinking whatever you’re thinking,” Izzy interrupted. “Go talk to him.”
I nodded, knowing she was right, and grabbed my sweater, keeping those dreadful papers in my hand. I’d be an hour early, but I wasn’t waiting until seven. I needed to settle things now or I might just lose my mind.
