“Yes,” she says with a snap of her fingers. “That’s what I want. I want Troy to stumble off a catwalk into a vat of molten lava, and I want to stir him in with a stick. I don’t want him murdered, because I don’t believe in that—and I’m not going to kill him, because again, I know that’s objectively wrong. But I just need him to trip, you know? I need him to wear his stupid loafers with the tassels that make him look like a trust fund tool, and I need the tassel to get caught in the grate of the catwalk, and I need him to fall into the lava vat.”
I just blink, staring down at this woman I love. “That’s some dark shit, babe.”
“Yeah, well, Troy brings out the fucking worst in me,” she snaps. “And he deserves nothing less for what he’s trying to do to you.”
“What’s in this box?” I say, pointing at the smaller one with the note I can’t read.
“That was the first present he left me a couple weeks ago,” she says, glaring at the box. “My shredded divorce papers. Unsigned, of course.”
“And what does he intend to do with all the photos of us?”
“Blast them online,” she replies. “He means to paint you as a sex-addled hockey star who can’t keep his dick in his pants, fucking anything that moves, even married women.”
“Jesus. He doesn’t flatter me much, does he?”
“He wants to paint himself as the noble victim in our adulterous affair,” she goes on. “Never mind that I left him three fucking years ago afterhecheated first,” she cries. “He started this downward spiral. He broke our vows first, not me. He was cruel and controlling. He lied to me and manipulated me; he got his family to lie and manipulate me. The marriage was broken. Itisbroken. And now look at this mess,” she cries, gesturing all around.
“So, he’s the cheater and the abuser and the blackmailer, but I’m gonna burn for it?”
She nods. “He knows how temperamental these sports franchises can be. They won’t want this bad press. They’ll run from you, Ryan. ‘Rats on a sinking ship’ I believe were his exact words. And I believe him,” she adds. “God help me, if he pulls this trigger, it’s you who will take the bullet, not me. My life is small, Ryan. My sphere of influence even smaller. I’ll lose my job and have to leave Cincinnati, but I was already resigned to that. He knew he couldn’t hurt me anymore by attacking me directly—”
“So, he’s attacking me,” I summarize.
She nods.
“He’s hurting me because he knows just how much that will hurt you. Is that it? Do I have all the pieces to the puzzle now?”
“I’m sorry,” she says. “I thought I could handle him on my own. I should have assumed he would try to take you from me once he knew I was in lo—”
She catches herself, shutting down, and my gaze locks on her. “Go on.”
She bites her bottom lip, her gaze flicking up to mine. “You need to understand that I have monumental abandonment issues, okay? We’re talking like, Washington Monument. Or think even bigger, like Mount Rushmore. And those are not to be outdone by my trust issues.”
“I get it,” I say, heart thumping. “You’re Tess the Red-hot Mess. But you were about to say something pretty monumental, and I, for one, am really interested to hear it.”
She purses her lips, that little glint in her eyes letting me know my Tess is in there.
Come on, baby, I whisper without words. It’s my spirit calling out to hers. I want every piece of this woman—her gorgeous body, her kindness, her clever mind. She’s it for me. She’s the fucking one. I never believed in the idea of soulmates. But until a few months ago, I had never met Tess. Now the universe is calling me a fool. If my soul ever had a mate, I’d want it to be her. But she has to be brave enough to want me too.
Say it.
She holds my gaze, her expression softening. Her hand reaches out, brushing up my arm as if we’re meant to touch. She’s where I want to begin and end.
Please, baby. Just say it.
“Ryan Charles Langley,” she says, tears in her eyes. “I’m in love with you.”
I let out a breath, shoulders sagging. “Oh, thank fuck—wait—” I raise a brow at her. “Charles? Babe, that’s not my middle name.”
She laughs. “I know, but it felt like a middle name moment, and I don’t know your middle name.”
I just shake my head, flashing her a smirk as she feeds my line back to me. “All you have to do is ask me.”
“I just told you that I love you,” she counters. “Me, Tess the Gemini With Two Dark Sides Owens, just told you, Ryan Puppy Langley, that I’m in love with you, and you have no comment?”
“I told you I love you, like, five minutes ago, and your only comment was to go on a rant about boiling Troy in a vat of lava.”
She gasps. “You did not.”