Page 165 of A Love Letter to Whiskey
“Are you insane?” I laughed at her. “I’m not marrying you, Angel.”
“Technically, you already did,” she pointed out, nodding to the marriage license between us.
I ground my teeth as my father squeezed my shoulder, telling me to sit down.
Angel had shown up to my parents’ house the Monday after the wedding — the same Monday that I’d gone to tell Mom and Dad and my sisters what happened between me and B. Not surprisingly, they were all thrilled, even if they were a bit pissed about all the money they’d shelled out for the wedding.
I had their support, though, and I knew with that, the rest would be easy.
Angel and her family were next on my list to handle, but she showed up first.
With a signed, notarized copy of the marriage license she’d turned into the court that morning.
“I don’t give a fuck,” I told her. “We’ll go get it annulled. Today.”
“I won’t agree to that. And since you willingly signed it the morning of our wedding, I doubt they’ll believe you weren’t aware of what you were doing.”
“You fucking cheated on me, Angel!”
She flinched at that, swallowing. “Your word against mine.”
That made my father frown, his fury the substance mine was born of. “Now listen here, young lady, this is absolutely uncalled for. You and Jamie clearly did not get married after what happened. We need to go make this right.”
“I am making it right,” she spat at him. “Your son is my husband, and whatever transpired between us is in the past.” Her eyes met mine then. “Please, Jamie. I want to make things right. I want us to have the future together that we always wanted.”
“And I want you to jump off the nearest cliff.”
My dad squeezed my shoulder again in warning, but I saw his lips quirk up just a bit.
Angel’s face flattened. “Fine. You want to play hard ball? Then, let’s play.” She stood then, her chair making a screeching noise against my parents’ dining room floor. “My lawyer is already well aware of our situation. And with all my bridesmaids willing to swear in court that I was so drunk I only thought I cheated and confessed to you not in my right mind, when really they’d all carried me home and put me to bed? You don’t have a leg to stand on.”
I frowned. “Claire wouldn’t.”
“Oh, she would. And,” Angel said, leaning over the table. “I know exactly where you were the night of our wedding, and who you were with.”
I clenched my jaw, not admitting it even when she stared me down.
“Lucky for me, there are cameras in that hotel lobby bar, and if we had to go to court over this, I’m sure I could obtain the footage from that night if I needed to.”
“And do what, exactly?”
“Show proof that it was you cheating on me.”
Fury flamed in me, and I felt it going through my father, too.
“We can either work this out like adults and be together the way we were supposed to be before that home wrecking whore showed up here,” Angel said, standing. “Or, you can get a lawyer and divorce me like you want. But with this little piece of evidence on my side, just know I’m coming for half of everything you own.” Her eyes met my dad’s then. “Including the firm.”
I stilled. My father stilled. Everything was so damn still.
Ice water trickled through my veins, my worst nightmare that I hadn’t even considered coming to fruition right in front of me.
“Take a few days to think on it,” she said calmly. “And call me when you come to your senses.”
My dad and I both sat there frozen as she left the house, and then Mom, Sylvia, and Santana rushed in, their faces paling at the sight of us.
I snapped out of my daze, reaching into my pocket for my phone. I had to call B. I had to talk to her. I had to—
“No,” Dad said, grabbing my phone before I could unlock it. “Not yet. Not until we talk to Jim.”
Jim.
Our family lawyer.
My stomach somersaulted as I turned to look at my father, who wore an expression like he’d just seen exactly how his death would play out and when it would happen.
“You really think she has a leg to stand on, Dad?”
He frowned, looking at my mom first before he found my gaze again.
He didn’t have to answer for me to know.
And so, the most hellish two years of my life began. I couldn’t so much as send a letter to B without it raising flags, without it being something that could be used against me in court. My lawyer tried his best to keep me positive, to make me believe him when he said it wouldn’t be long before it would all be over with.
