Page 57 of Finding Denver
“I’m not coming home,” I whisper.
“Do you love me, Denver?”
My throat dries. “I’m not coming home.”
“Answer my question.”
I squeeze my eyes closed, fighting the light. “Yes.”
“Then that’s all that matters. What I did, what Nico said, what the McEwans have told you, none of it matters.You love me. I love you. Come home,” he says, and I don’t respond. I can’t. I feel Lewis’s hand on my shoulder, feel him pull me against his chest. Ranger’s voice softens. “Denver, your life is with me. What is the plan if you don’t come back? Stay with people you don’t know? Start a new life? Divorce me? You’re going to do all that over words on paper?” I cling to Lewis, tears in my lashes. “We have a future together.”
“But you keep breaking me,” I whisper.
He sighs. “That’s what love is, little bird. It isn’t supposed to always feel good. We fit together because we’re broken, don’t you see that?”
But I don’t want to be broken. I don’t want to be pieces of the person I could be.
“I have to go.”
“Denver—”
I hang up.
Chapter 15
Ranger
Istand and launch my phone at the office wall. Gripping the desk, I try to steady my breathing, but the anger might just eat me alive.
Cal and JJ are in the kitchen talking when I stride in.
“JJ, you’re going to New York. Watch Denver. Tell me everything she’s doing. Then, when I tell you to, you bring her home.”
He nods. “Okay.”
And that’s why I like JJ. No questions fucking asked.
By the time I’m back in my office, Cal has followed me and closed the door behind him. “What’s going on, Ranger? Why isn’t Denver back yet?”
I snatch my phone from the floor and sit behind my desk. “A misunderstanding.”
“What kind? A run-of-the-mill marital dispute, or a you thing?”
I swear thunder rolls across me as I meet his eye. “And what does that mean?”
He stands before my desk without batting an eye. Maybe I’ve given him too much leeway, because he shouldat least hesitate before questioning whether I’ve fucked up my marriage.
“Is she leaving you?”
“Say that again and I’ll remove a piece of you, Cal.”
He frowns gently. “Fuck. What did you do?”
I ball my hands into fists, breathing through the overwhelming urge to hit him, a wall, or anything that will temporarily block the reminder that she isn’t here.
“It’s history being dragged up by the McEwans. Nothing I can’t fix.”
And I will fix it.
