by Emilia Finn
I’m doing the right thing. It just sucks that the right thing hurts so much.
I enter the gate codes; zero-seven-zero-four-fifteen, one of the best and worst dates of my life, then I drive down the driveway that I’ve been so notably absent from for weeks.
The girls have come to my apartment a lot, but I haven’t come here, for obvious reasons.
Jon hasn’t called me and he hasn’t knocked on my door once. He hasn’t even been into the club to hassle guys hitting on me. I never asked, but my mind secretly screamed at the girls, begging them to tell me if he missed me, but I got nothing. Not a word.
I knew what I was doing when I walked away, I knew I was ending it all, but it hurts so damn much. It’s like I left my limbs in another city. I can’t function properly without them but I can’t have them back either. I’m doomed to live a half life, though my heart is big and whole enough to feel the full ache of missing Jon.
I think I was finally successful in cutting the cord. He’s never left me alone before. No matter how much I bitched at him, no matter how much I begged for it. Even during our worst times, he was still blowing up my phone or he was in the club watching.
He really moved on this time.
And though it hurts my heart, I know deep down it’s a good sign. Jon deserves to move on. He deserves happiness.
He deserves freedom.
Everyone likely knows I’m here already; everyone gets a text when the gates are opened, so I don’t even bother trying to hide.
No doubt every Kincaid, Reilly and Hart in this estate have their noses in their phones right now, they see me on security cam and they’re probably rushing to their front windows to watch the spectacle. It takes everything I have not to flip the cameras my middle finger. Nosy jerks.
Hell, if it was any of them, I’d be front of the pack rubbernecking. I’d have probably already prepared the popcorn. But it’s not them this time. It’s me.
And it hurts.
The day after I got home, after the alcohol and greasy food worked its way out of my body, I’d finally successfully pried the ring from my finger, but despite my panic to get it off that first day, I found I couldn’t truly part with it. I decided to stick it on a chain and I’ve since kept it around my neck.
It’s my brand new security blanket, and though it’s not warm with a beating heart, though it doesn’t hold me the way Jon can, it’s all I have. Desperate times call for desperate chicks to sleep holding an ugly wedding ring, even when the husband is sleeping in his own bed across town.
I tuck the chain beneath my shirt. I don’t want him to see it. I don’t want him to ask for it back. It’s all I have and I’m selfish enough I can’t part with it.
I pull my car up in Jon’s drive and I check my rearview mirror. I spent a long time on my makeup today. It’s a well-known fact I use makeup as a shield on a good day; today was definitely an extra effort needed kind of day.
I eye the paperwork in my passenger seat with dread. I hate what those envelopes contain but it must be done.
With one last sigh and a cheek slap to bring some color to my otherwise pale face, I climb out of my car and grab the pile of paperwork.
This will take maybe twenty minutes or so, then I need to force my ass back into this car and I need to leave.
For good.
I walk down Jon’s stone pathway, and though I force myself not to look, I just know I’m being watched. This would be funny if it was anyone else. It takes all the willpower I have not to give in and turn to see who all was watching me, though I’d bet my life savings everyone is floating around.
I saw Kit last night. She knew this was coming. She knew I’d be by today.
Before I let my nerves get the best of me, I press my finger to Jon’s doorbell and I wait. I don’t use the key I have. I don’t dare cross that line.
I don’t have that right anymore.
It takes a few minutes, long enough for me to wonder if he’s even home, but eventually I hear the locks clicking on the other side of the door then it swings open to reveal… Evie.
My eyes snap from the six and a half feet I expected to see and pop down to the three feet that is Evelyn ‘Bug’ Soon-to-be-Kincaid as she clings to her stuffed puppy.
I look past her, expecting to find Tina or Jon, or hell, anyone, but there’s no one. I squat down with a frown. “Whatcha doin’, Bug?”
“Evie’s getting cousins soon!”
My frown turns to a smile. “I know, baby. Exciting, huh? Where’s Mommy and Biggie? Are they here?”
“Mommy’s with Biggie.”
“Yeah, where are they?”
I freeze when Evie drops puppy from her clasped hands in front of her and I find my own drunk face staring back at me. “Evie. Where’d you get that shirt?”
Evie’s chin drops to her chest as she points excitedly and pulls the fabric away from her skin. “It’s Aunty Tink. You’re so pretty.”
“I know it’s me, baby. Where’d you get it? Who dressed you today?” I try not to cringe at my face staring back at me, at the eyes turning pink from too much alcohol and not enough sleep. Of course I got married looking like a hot mess.
“Evie dressed myself. New t-shirt is so pretty.”
I bend over her. “You got anything on under that?” No. I answer my own question as I pull the collar of her shirt back. Nothing else, so I can’t even steal her shirt and burn it.
“Bug, where’s Mommy and Biggie? Are you here alone?”
I jump at Jon’s scoff, then at his cocky smirk as he rounds the corner. I resist the urge to scratch my own eyes out. He’s just as beautiful as I remember.
The beautiful asshole is wearing an identical white shirt, he’s twinning with Evie, but it gets worse as I focus on the hat pulled low over his twinkling eyes. “Of course she’s not here alone, Sunshine. I can be a responsible adult.”
“Jon.” I stand up tall as Evie hugs my thigh. I swallow down my tears and nerves and heartbreak. He’s so close, yet I can’t touch.
“Hey Sunshine. I missed you.”
I hungrily study his features, stopping on his black eye. “What happened to your face?”
Jon’s hands come up to his bruised jaw and eye. “This? Jack hit me for hurting his sister.”
My own eyes narrow. “What did you do to Kit?”
He chuckles and shakes his head. “Not Kit. You.” Jon looks me up and down appreciatively. “I missed you, Case.”
“No. We can’t keep going round and round with this.”
Jon shrugs as he leans against the wall without inviting me in. “I dunno. I think I’m gonna enjoy the ride this time.”
“Jon--”
“Leo,” he cuts me off. “I’m Leo and you’re Sunshine.”
“No. We can’t -- We’re not those people anymore.”
His smile is smug and his shoulder muscles ripple with every small movement he makes. “No, we’re not. We’re older and smarter now. I think we’re even aging really well. Gotta say, I think I’m hotter now than I was two years ago. And I know you are.”
I hold back my groan. He’s just going to play games. “Listen.” I hold out the forms I brought in front of me. I’m not even ashamed to admit I’m using them as a shield. Where’s Izzy when you need her? “I spoke to my lawyer and had these drawn up.”
He maintains his smug smile. “You spoke to Daniels?”
I glare at his odd question. “No, I spoke to Penny; she specializes in--”
“But Daniels is the family lawyer. He’s on retainer.”
“Whose family?”
“Ours. Yours and mine.” He grins arrogantly. “We’re married now; what’s mine is yours.”
I step back from him. “Jon.”
I want to cry, but I shake my head instead. Get in, get it done, get out. Like a Band-Aid. The longer I drag this out, the more it’ll hurt. Rallying and steadying my voice, I forge on. “I had divorce papers drawn up. They just need your signature and they’re good to--“
Jon rear
ranges his feet, crossing his ankles as he leans. “Why no annulment, Sunshine?”
“Annul-- What?”
“Why no annulment? Why’d you choose divorce over annulment?”
My heart is pounding painfully in my chest, the hurt intensifying every second I’m facing him, for every careless word he speaks. “Jon. Why are you trying to hurt me?”
His smug face turns sad briefly, but he covers it quickly. “I’m not trying to hurt you, Case. I swear to god. I’ll never purposely hurt you again. I just want to know why you chose one over the other.”
“Because…” Jon’s brows lift as he waits. “Because we consummated it. Because--”
“Because we made love?”
I swallow the lump in the throat. “Yes.”
“But for you to know that, then you must remember, right? You must remember the night.”
“Yes.” I remember the entire night now. It’s been three weeks and the details came flooding back as soon as I sat my ass on the plane. “Yes. I remember.”
“So you remember making love to me. You remember the promises you made?”
“Yes Jon, but I also remember you being drunk. Us both being drunk. I remember taunting you the way I do. I knew what I was doing when I lined your shots up, I knew you wouldn’t turn me down.”
“You knew that about me, so my reactions were entirely in character. So maybe all my decisions that night were me, making decisions that I wanted.”
“Jon, I can’t. I can’t do this. Here.” I thrust the paperwork toward him. “Just sign these and I’ll file.” I look down at Evie as she traces circles in my thigh. “I also have some stuff for you.”
“You got me a gift, Sunshine?” Jon takes the folder from my hands and opens the cover. His eyes turn from dancing mischief to a frown.
“You don’t have to do anything with it if you don’t want to, but you should know there’s precedence. You can do something about…” I look at Evie again. “You can go to the authorities and talk about what happened to you. They can still be convicted.”
“How do you know this?” Jon’s words come out on a murmur as he flicks through the pages.
I took research on like a full time job for days, weeks, and printed hundreds of pages. The law, conditions that must be met, previous successful cases. He probably won’t read it all, he doesn’t have to, I just wanted to show him that it doesn’t have to end with silence. He can have justice, if not for Jon the man, at least for Jon, the starving boy.
“I made an appointment with a lawyer, not Penny--”
“Not Daniels either?” Jon smirks.
I smile. “Not Daniels either. I spoke to someone who specializes in… these cases. He said he can help you. He’ll walk you through it and you can try to set out a timeline and names and stuff… Anyway, you do what you want with that, I just wanted you to know you can do something about it. I know that doesn’t make it all better, but they don’t get to just run free either. They need to answer for their crimes. ”
Jon’s eyes meet mine. “Why’d you do this, Sunshine?”
Because I love you. “Because you’re my best friend. Because the little boy that was hurt deserves justice. Trust me, had I found that there was nothing legal you could do, I was already drawing up my plan for a little vigilante justice.”
Jon’s lips twitch. “True? What were you gonna do?”
“They deserve more than itchy powder and a keyed car; mostly I’d intended to run them down with my car. Well, actually yours, since your truck is bigger and would hurt more.”
“What if you got caught?”
I smile at the thought. “I’d happily serve my time for you.”
“You would?” Jon’s satisfied smile grows and stretches his face. “What’s the average sentence for something like that?”
I frown. “I don’t know. Maybe thirty years for each of the jerks I run down.”
“Thirty years…” Jon rubs his fingers across his jaw. “So you’d serve thirty years for me?”
I smile at the thought of hurting the monsters that hurt a child. They hurt him in the worst possible ways. “Happily.”
“Sunshine. If you’ll serve a life sentence in a dirty prison for me, why not live a life sentence with me? My house isn’t nearly as gross as prison. The sex will be mostly consensual and I won’t make you cook if you don’t wanna. Though I’d really love more poo-brown cake every year. That was my best birthday ever.”
“Jon. No--”
He sighs, obviously and annoyingly inconvenienced by me. “Why not?”
“I can’t stay in this marriage. You were tricked into it.”
“You can’t stay in this marriage? This one right now, because I wasn’t sober when I entered it?”
“Right.”
He stands from his slouch against the wall. “You got a pen?”
I hold back the sound of metal on metal as my heart shatters and I reach into my bag for the pen I made sure to bring. “Here you go.”
“Where do I sign?” Damn this hurts. He’s going to sign, just like that.
I step toward him and though I have to speak, to point out each spot that requires his signature, I do my best to not breathe. I don’t want to smell him, I don’t want to feel him.
Jon takes the pages from me and presses them against the wall. One flourishing signature. Zero hesitation. Two. Three. “Is that all?”
That’s all. I’m dead inside. “Yeah, that’s it.”
“Are we officially divorced yet?”
“No.” I hold back my tears. “I’ll file, which will make it official, but yeah, as far as you’re concerned, you’re free.”
“I’m free?”
I nod.
“I’m free to do what I want? To make my own decisions? To marry whoever I please?”
I nod again.
“Do I look sober right now? Of sound mind?
I nod again. It’s barely ten a.m. “Yeah, you look sober to me.”
“Right. Let’s go.” Jon takes my arm in his hand then he swings Evie onto his hip.
“Where’re we going?”
“To get married.”
I stop on the spot, digging my heels in and forcing him to stop or let me go. Or rip my arm from its socket. “No, we’re not.”
“Why not? I’m sober and I love you.”
“He wuvs you, Aunty Tink.”
“It’s true.” Jon smirks. “You’re not engaged to anyone else, are you? Because I’ll duel or whatever that idiot Fraser does to win the chick. Who do I have to have a sword fight with?”
“You’re being an idiot.”
“Really I’m not. Will you marry me, Casey?”
Jon drops to his knees in front of me. He places Evie down on her feet then he takes my hand in his. “I’ll love you forever.”
“Jon. Stop.”
With a deep chuckle, he stands up abruptly. “That’s what I thought you’d say. I didn’t even get a ring yet because I knew you’d reject me.”
“Is this just a joke to you?”
“Not even a little bit. Wait here a sec, okay?”
Jon doesn’t wait for my answer, he just takes off inside and leaves Evie and on I the porch. “Unca Jon is funny.”
“Uncle Jon is a pain in my ass.”
“I heard that, Sunshine. And so did Bug. Tina’ll kick your ass if she hears you.”
I mumble under my breath that he just said ass, but I don’t have time to dwell as he returns to the front door with a couple tattered novels in his hands and a smaller trucker hat version of his that he throws on top of Evie’s curls.
Jon picks a giggling Evie up again and he settles her on his hip, then his large hand envelopes mine. “Let’s go.”
“Jon.” I try to tug my hand loose. “I need to go home.”
“Soon, Sunshine. You need to come with me first.”
“Where are we going?”
“Just shush and wait.”
“Unca Jon!” Evie scolds Jon. “Shush is rude. Use
your manners.”
Jon’s smile doesn’t dim a single degree. “Sorry Bug. Sunshine, darling, can you please shut the focaccia up and follow me?” Jon leads us across his lawn then onto Aiden and Tina’s front porch.
“What are we doing here?”
Jon looks down at me condescendingly. “Don’t make me shush you again.” Then he knocks on the front door and we wait silently.
My heart pounds at the sound of rolling locks then Tina’s big smile greets us. As does my face; on her shirt. “Seriously? Was there a special on at shirts’R’us?”
“Mommy!” Evie jumps from Jon’s arms to Tina’s, but then Aiden comes to the door and places his arm around Tina’s waist. Evie immediately jumps ship. “Biggie!”
“Hey Smalls, missed you, baby.”
“Missed you too, Biggie.”
“Did you do your job?”
“Yes. Aunty Tink is funny. She said a swear.”
Tina’s eyes meet mine as she purses her lips. “Really, Aunty Tink. You couldn’t keep your potty mouth quiet?”
“Why was she even there? It’s not my fault!”
“Are you guys organized over here?”
“Yeah,” Aiden answers Jon as he steps away from Tina and I spot his matching shirt.
“Are you people serious? What’s with the shirts?”
“Come on, Casey. You said you’d serve a life sentence for me. I want something else from you. Just as permanent, but less traumatic.”
“Aww,” Tina coos and bounces on her toes. “She already admitted to the life sentence?”
“Yeah.” Jon smiles. “That was surprisingly easy. Now I just need her to agree to marry me. Again.”
“You already asked?” Aiden questions as he bounces Evie in his arms. “That was quick.”
“Yeah but she said no.”
“Tink,” Tina scolds me. “That’s rude.”
“What are you people talking about?”
“Ian’s here?”
“Yeah,” Aiden answers Jon. “He’s all set up and ready to go in the living room.”
Ian?
“Ian who?”
“From Inkalot,” Jon answers casually as he tugs me through Tina and Aiden’s front door. We walk through their main entrance then I’m tugged into a living room turned tattoo parlor. Ian has a giant chair bed thing set up with plastic cling wrap covering it. He has a small table with all kinds of stuff laid out and a power cord running from the gun to the wall socket.
