Page 61 of Marry Me, Maybe?
“She does. I need to take her home for a nap.”
“I’ll see you around, then.” I reached inside the car, took the little girl’s hand, and squeezed it affectionately. “Bye, Ivy. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Bye bye, Maaah!”
She blew me a kiss. I caught it like I did in the bakery and made a show of pocketing it. She giggled. Hudson made a sound, and when I looked at him, he averted his gaze, but not before I saw the sheen in his eyes.
“I didn’t deserve you then,” he whispered. “And I still don’t today.”
I didn’t mean to stand there and watch them go. Not to stare after what could have been, leaving me behind again.
I didn’t deserve you then.
He was right. He didn’t, and if I had a lick of sense, I would leave Hudson Granger and his little girl alone.
13
HUDSON
Ivy’s chatter filtered into my bedroom as she played with her dolls. Good, she was preoccupied. I sat on the edge of my creaky bed, elbows on my knees, staring at the worn cardboard box resting in the middle of the mattress. The one I hadn’t opened in years, save for shoving the marriage license Heather had left on the bed inside. The one I’d thrown to the back of the closet and told myself never to look at again.
But I was desperate, backed into a corner by the credit cards that no longer worked and the number of bills piling up under me.
I ran a hand down my face, palms dry and calloused from the ranch work that barely paid the bills. Not because Gray didn’t pay us fairly, but half of my salary went into restitution. Every damn week, I was choosing which bill could wait, which meal needed stretching, what Ivy needed most, and what I could live without.
And still… I hadn’t touched the money.
With a slow breath, I opened the box. The musty scent of old paper and memories hit me hard.
The wad of cash sat neatly rubber-banded, just as it had been when it was given to me. I didn’t have to count it. I already knew. Ten thousand dollars. More than enough to hire a professional to fix the roof properly. Pay a huge chunk of my credit card debt. Pay for Ivy’s speech therapy with that new specialist.
But my hand didn’t move.
Not toward the money.
Instead, it shifted through the other things—the things I’d buried like bones. The wedding certificate I’d never looked at since signing it. Heather had made it clear our marriage was over the day she walked out and left it on the bed.
And then there was the ring.
A gold-plated band, dull and scratched. I’d refused to wear it from day one, but not because it was cheap. I didn’t care about that. If Matty had tied a string around my finger four years ago, I would have worn it still. But because the second that ring had touched my skin, I’d felt like I’d betrayed Matty all over again. Worse than marrying someone else. It was the symbolic sealing of that betrayal. A lie wrapped around my finger. So I’d tucked it into this box instead and gone ringless all my marriage.
I sat there staring at it all—proof of the worst choices I’d made, the person I used to be, and the man I was trying so damn hard not to become again. My eyes landed on the cash again.
Four years.
Four years, and I hadn’t spent a dollar.
Even when the electricity almost got cut off.
Even when I’d skipped meals so Ivy could eat.
Even when I was one grocery trip away from disaster.
Now I was drowning, and this money could be the raft.But I still couldn’t make myself reach for it. Not when I knew where it came from. Not when I remembered the folded note tucked beneath it. Elegant handwriting scrawled across cream stationery.
A bribe. Plain and simple.
To cut ties.
