“Come on, Rockstar, let’s show our faces, do our rounds and get out of here so I can get you back home and into a bed.” Michael takes my hand.
“You’re such a rebel,” I observe as we make our way to the wooden terrace, where the brunches are held, “walking around the pristine crowd with your shirt unbuttoned like that.”
Michael shoots me a mischief filled grin. “Like what you see, Rockstar?”
I let my eyes roam over him. His tawny gaze is full of heat and humor, the sun catching in his chaotic coppery spikes, making them look like a flame. The crisp white dress shirt fitted for his strong lean physique is tucked messily into his beige khakis, the top four buttons open, giving a mouthwatering peek of his smooth skin, and of course, suspenders. Brick colored this time.
“Lore…” Michael warns, and I hook a finger under a suspender, gliding it up and down the elastic, so my knuckle rubs his chest.
“These shouldn’t be so sexy,” I point out, and Michael’s grin widens.
“But?” he prods with a husky voice.
“But when you wear them, it makes me wonder if they can be used to tie you to the bed.”
The groan my words elicit from deep in his chest climbs all the way to his darkened eyes. I’m compelled to suggest we skip the brunch like he wanted until an all too familiar voice sucks the heat out of my body faster than it ignited.
“Lauren?” That unmistakable snark attached to my name makes me sick to my stomach. I spent years believing the girl whose name is spoken with disparagement is who I am, all I am. “Didn’t take you long to find someone new to mooch off of, I see.”
My heart starts thudding painfully in my chest, but the rest of me is frozen, unable to turn around and look at the man I spent so many years convincing myself was the one I should spend my life with because he had the right job, the right salary, and was willing to give me any material possession I wanted as long as I stayed, as long as I let him control me withthings. I told myself that even if we didn’t really love each other, even if he would occasionally stray and wasn’t affectionate, as long as he wasn’t physically hurting me, it was okay because he took care of me.
He was only ever taking care of himself, though. I was just another object in his collection of pretty purchases.
“Lauren,” Michael whispers and squeezes my hand, and the way he says my name washes me with warmth, thawing my rigid muscles. I lift my head to meet his eyes, and he offers a devilish half-grin, wiggling his eyebrows as he indicates the country club restrooms, and I can’t stop the laughter erupting.
“You really would, wouldn’t you?” I ask with a shake of my head, but an affectionate one, and Michael knows it.
“Oh, totally,” he affirms with a grin. Then his features harden and turn somber as he looks behind me, and with a sigh, I turn around to meet the bright green eyes which are still looking at me in utter boredom.
“Jason.” I nod, turning my attention to the woman standing next to him, a petite blonde in a tight blush-colored dress who I recognize as one of his firm’s secretaries from work events Jason used to take me to. “Dana, right?”
She nods, big blue eyes looking at me almost apologetically, and I smile at her before turning my gaze back to Jason, scrutinizing him until he starts to squirm.
“Nothing,” I mutter, almost disappointed.
“What?” Jason frowns, but I ignore him and turn to Michael.
“Ten years, and I don’t feel a thing when I look at him, not even anger.” I look down at my shoes, the sudden emptiness in my chest almost too much to bear. “Dana, who I’ve met maybe four times and don’t even know her last name, inspires more emotion than the man I thought I was going to grow old with. Isn’t that sad?”
“Yeah,” Michael agrees, wrapping me up in his arms. “It is.”
“Can we go home now?” I mumble into his chest, and his hold on me tightens.
“Absolutely, Rockstar.” Michael starts steering me toward the exit, but then I stop and turn to Jason, who is smirking with a satisfied grin.
“You’ll be hearing from my lawyer,” I inform him, not even finding satisfaction in the smile being wiped off his face.
I’m not looking for revenge. I just want what’s mine, what was always mine, and he tried to take away. I almost let him convince me that hehadtaken it all away.
But he failed, and I’m done living my life as if he hadn’t.
Chapter Fourteen
Michael
“No extras,”Lauren instructs, leaning her forehead against the window of the town car, eyes still disturbingly dull. “I don’t want anything from him, Phoebe. I just want what he took. My inheritance and what I put aside from my salary. If you can get back some of the interest it built up over the past ten years—great. If not, that’s also fine.”
There are a few moments of silence where the backseat is filled with the muffled voice of my sister’s best friend, and Lauren nods a few times as her slender fingers swipe through the fringes on her forehead.