Page 12 of Take My Name
My brows pull together as I wonderhow seriouslyhe’s been taking them. “Warren…” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “We’ve been separated longer than we were married. We’re two completely different people now. Ain’t it time we move on?”
“Looks like you already have.” He nods toward my left hand with my engagement ring on it.
“Yes,” I murmur, dropping my arm and swallowing hard. “He doesn’t know I’m still married, so that’s why I need you to sign the papers this time and get it finalized quietly.”
“So…” His lips tilt up in a taunting grin. “You need me to sign the divorce papers so you can marry another man, who doesn’t know you’re married to me? Did I get that right?”
His amused tone makes my heart sink because I can tell he’s going to fight against it even harder now. I debated on telling him, but it didn’t sit right with me to lie about it either. He would’ve eventually found out anyway.
I’m already being dishonest to my fiancé, which makes me feel like a horrible person as it is. He has more traditional values and is sixteen years older than me. I panicked he’d end things if he knew I was legally married, so I didn’t say anything. The longer time went by without telling him, the harder it was to figure out how to tell him. It wasn’t until he unexpectedly proposed last year that it became a bigger concern.
“We haven’t been together in seven years, Warren,” I remind him. “I sent you divorce papers five times!”
Twice since I’ve been engaged.
“And you finally figured out I wasn’t gonna sign ’em. What makes you thinkI’ll sign ’em now?”
My shoulders slump, sucking in a breath to calm my nerves so I don’t lose my cool.
“Because I’m askin’ you to let me go,” I say above a whisper, hoping he’ll see how much this hurts. “Let me move on.”
His jaw ticks and my gaze lowers to his stretched-out hand before he balls it into a fist.
“I can’t.”
“Why not?” I ask sincerely. “Don’t you wanna be happy again?”
“I was happy. You made me happy.Wewere happy.”
“That was a long time ago, Warren. We aren’t those people anymore.”
“You didn’t—” He blurts before abruptly stopping, inhaling a sharp breath, and turning away from me.
It’s then I look around him and notice our wedding photos hung on the wall. Beaming smiles and heart eyes. We were so in love.
Why would he put those up?
My heart races remembering that day.
The perfect summer wedding.
My parents fought me every step of the way, but I was determined to marry the love of my life. Although they tried to talk me out of it, they paid for everything and made sure it lived up to the Callaway standard—over-the-top flashy and expensive.
“You didn’t gimme a chance.Usa chance.” His pained eyes meet mine. “We were married for just over a year before you left—nine of those months long-distance. Then you left four months later. Hell, we were still in the honeymoon phase when you packed your things!”
“I begged you to come with me!” I throw my arms up, defeated that we’re arguing about something longover.
“To do what?” He raises his voice slightly. “What the hell was a rancher gonna do in a big city?”
“You coulda gotten a different job if you wanted us to stay together. You would’ve tried harder.”
“Oh, now I didn’t try hard enough? Callin’ and textin’ all the time, supportin’ your dream while mine were being crushed, that wasn’t tryin’ hard enough?”
“You know what I mean,” I say between ragged breaths. “You only visited once.”
He flew up a month after I moved there and only stayed for four days.
“And you worked most of the time I was there,” he deadpans. “What would’ve been the point?”
