Page 142 of What About Us
“Thanks, Mom. I love you, too,” I say and then turn to leave. I stop just outside the door when I call out to her. “Oh, and Mom?”
“Yes?” She turns to look at me over her shoulder as she picks up our empty glasses.
A grin cracks my face. “I’m telling Hutch you said he was selfish.”
Chapter 52
Hudson
“You going to tellme what’s going on, or just sit there all night like a moody asshole and drink all my beer?”
“Tristen’s here,” I say, staring into the fire.
From my periphery, Hutch stops, beer halfway to his mouth. He looks surprised, but in typical Hutch fashion, he doesn’t give me much else.
When I don’t immediately elaborate, he sits forward, beer bottle dangling between his knees. “What does she want?”
I huff out a humorless chuckle. It’s pretty pathetic that my brother knows my ex-wife wouldn’t just be here for Paige. “What she always wants: my balls in her fucking Birken.”
I loathe that I even know what that fucking bag she carries around is even called. It’s no wonder though, she takes better care of it than she ever did our marriage or our daughter.
Deducing the situation immediately, he asks, “What happened to her rich daddy?” He throws an arm over the back of the chair he’s sitting in, knees splayed wide.
If Hutch can spot Tristen’s bullshit from a mile away, why couldn’t Finn? My stomach rolls when I think about how I sent her upstairs like she didn’t matter. I might as well have just confirmed her fears outright.
I shrug, feeling numb. “Best guess, he’s sick of supporting her. Probably cut her off.” I take another swig of my beer.
“She still dancing?” he asks, studying me from across the fire. “Timber Forge is a long fucking way from France.”
“She says she’s done.” My tone is indifferent, my shrug bone weary.
I can feel Hutch’s gaze on me, but I keep mine on the flames. The pop of the fire sends sparks into the air, and I get lost in them before I look at him.
“What are you going to do?” He asks before tipping his beer back.
I level my bleary-eyed gaze on him across the firepit. I don’t know how many beers I’ve had since I showed up here, but my words come out a little slurred when I answer, “I wrote her a check. She leaves in the morning.”
He’s mid-swallow when his surprised gaze flicks to mine. “Well, that was easy.”
Feeling miserable, I nod and take another drink of my beer. I miss my wife. Does she miss me? Is she already over it and she just doesn’t know how to tell me? Maybe this whole thing meant more to me than it did her?
“So, what’s with the sad sack bullshit? You’ve never been hung up on money, and as shit as the situation is, I know you can afford it.”
He’s right. I don’t give a shit about the money. I was going to give it to her in the divorce anyway, but she didn’t need it then. Not with her daddy’s money. Even went so far as to tell me what I had to offer her was ‘pennies.’ It used to make me feel bad. I did love her once, in some fucked-up attempt to squash my feelings for Finn. I realize how pathetic that is. Especially in light of how Tristen has always felt about her.
I grind my teeth so hard, I’m surprised my molars don’t crack. “She showed up at our place and said a bunch of really horrible shit to her. Toldher she’s always been trash, taking Tristen’s sloppy seconds. Accused us of fucking while Tristen and I were married.” I take a long swig from my bottle.
Hutch isn’t often shocked, but his eyebrows shoot up. “She said all that to her?”
I meet his eyes briefly, then look back to the fire. “Some of it she said after Finn took Paige upstairs, but I’m sure she heard most, if not all of it. Tristen isn’t subtle or quiet, and she’s blaming Finn for breaking up our marriage.” I close my eyes against the image of Finn’s tear-stained face in the garage. God, I fucked up. How could I not stand up for her in front of Tristen? How could I hurt her like that?
“Shit,” he says, blowing out a long breath. “Anyone who knows you two knows that’s bullshit.”
“Of course it is,” I slur out. “Anyway, Finn left. Said all we can be is friends.”
“She left? Where’d she go?”
I hang my head. Even thinking about her alone at the B&B has crippling guilt coursing through my veins. “Timber Haven.”
