“Ouch,” I pull back, “you bit me.” I laugh as I swipe at my lip, checking for blood.
“Are you okay? I didn’t mean to, we just got a little carried away.” He smirks.
“I’m good, just no more biting.” I smile back down at him and drop a peck on the corner of his lips.
“Making out with you here brings back some memories,” he says as we settle back down on the blanket together.
“I can only imagine the number of girls you brought out here to make out with. I bet you were a charmer in high school.”
“Not as many as you’d think. I mostly kept to myself. I had two girlfriends the entire four years, and only one came out here with me. I won’t lie, we got into some mischief here, might have lost my virginity on this very dock but it wasn’t rowdy parties every Friday night like you might think.”
“I wasn’t big on Friday night parties, either, during high school. I was more the type to stay in and read a book or go to the movies with my friends.”
“Were you the good girl who found herself once you went to college?” he asks.
“A little bit. I didn’t go crazy, but I enjoyed a few experiences. I met my ex-husband the end of our junior year. We were married a few weeks after graduation the next summer. It was a crazy fast relationship and probably should have been a red flag, but I was swept up in the moment and excitement that he was so enamored with spoiling me.”
“How long have you been divorced?” he asks.
Here we go, the real details of the collapse of my marriage. I guess I should tell him now, than not tell him, only for him to find out later and not want to be involved with me because of everything. Better to give him the details now, than once we’re both more invested. I blow out a deep breath before launching into things. “I’ve officially been divorced for eighteen months, but life as I knew it collapsed about six months before that. I answered the door one Tuesday afternoon and two federal agents were standing on my doorstep with a warrant. I was clueless about what they’d want to look for in my house, but they were adamant they had the right place and I couldn’t argue after reading the paperwork with my husband’s name on it. One of the agents was kind enough to take me aside and explain what was going on. I think they quickly realized I was completely in the dark on everything he’d been up to.”
“Your ex-husband is Neil Flowers?” he asks, probably putting the pieces together.
“Yes,” I admit, and am afraid of what he’s going to say next. When he doesn’t say anything, just holds me tighter, I go on. “He had been running a Ponzi scheme, stealing people’s hard-earned money they were relying on to retire with. Not only that, he was also caught with images and videos on his computer with underage girls. He tried to fight everything, but finally realized he was better off taking a plea deal than risking taking everything to trial. He’ll be in federal prison for the next twenty-five years. In the divorce, I made sure it was noted that his parental rights had been stripped in his criminal case, which made it so I never had to worry about getting his permission for something related to the kids.”
“Damn, that must have been a hard time,” Garrett interjects.
“It was. There were many people who treated me like I was just as bad as he was when it all came out, but thankfully, the people who realized I was as much a victim in all of this as they were, outweighed the people who treated me badly.”
“How did you get through that time?”
“Honestly, I baked. I spent so many hours just hiding in the kitchen of the bakery. If I wasn’t there taking out my frustration on some kind of batter, I was with my kids, hiding inside my house. I still kind of hide in those two places, but I’m learning to come out more. My kids are only getting bigger, and I don’t want them to miss out on as normal of a childhood as I can provide. They didn’t ask to have a dad that broke the law, but that’s the hand they were dealt, and I can’t do much to change that other than give them the best life I can without focusing on Neil.”
“Do they ask about him?” he asks.
“Not really, anymore. At first, Ben would watch out the window in the evenings waiting for him to come home, then cry when he didn’t show up. It broke my fucking heart to see my kids so hurt, but eventually he stopped watching, and before long, I think it became out of sight out of mind. I try not to bring him up in front of the kids, mainly because I don’t want them to feel bad about not remembering him or thinking about him all the time.”
“But your parents are active in their lives?” he confirms.
“They are, and my dad does such a great job trying to fill that male role model spot they so desperately need and want. He’s good about making sure they know he’s Grandpa, but he’s the one encouraging them to try sports. He takes them fishing out at some ponds nearby. They’re planning a camping trip for later this summer. Just a one-night kind of thing, not far away. They are all so excited for it, which makes me happy.”
“He sounds like a great guy.”
“One of the best. I don’t know where I’d be without my family. My parents, aunt, uncle and cousin all have had my back these last few years and I can’t thank them enough. Them and my therapist. She’s gotten me through a hell of a lot. Made me realize just how much of a narcissist my ex was. How he was mentally abusive. He never was physically abusive, but there was definitely some mental shit going on.”
“I’m sorry you had to live through all of that,” Garrett says before placing a kiss to the top of my head.
“Thank you. I like to think it made me stronger. I’ve come out the other side feeling like I can live through just about anything--not that I want to live through something that traumatic again, mind you.”
“I understand what you’re saying. I might have not known you then, but I’m damn proud that you are still standing after everything.”
“I’m going to ask you again, are you sure you’re real?”
He chuckles again. “I’m sure, I promise. If I wasn’t, I couldn’t do this,” he says, trailing off as he flips us so he’s hovering over me. His lips find mine again in the most delicious kiss.
8
GARRETT