He nearly growled, pacing a few steps away, then back again like he couldn’t stay still. His fists were clenched at his sides, the veins in his neck bulging. “I don’t have to turn this around on you, Jordin. You played your own part in breaking us. I talked to you, begged you to cut back. You agreed we would start a family before thirty. You went back on that. You agreed you wouldn’t spend weeks away from home. You spent weeks away from home!”
“You think that justifies you sticking your dick in someone else?” I spat. “You think me chasing my dreams gives you a free pass to destroy everything we built? You think me staying in one place would’ve made you faithful?”
I felt tears prickle my eyes. I was on the verge of crying, and I really didn’t want to cry in front of him.
“It wasn’t about staying in one place, Jordin!” He slammed his palm against the wall, his voice booming, the forceof it echoing like a bomb going off. “It was about being there for me. For us. You had one foot in our marriage and the other in your career, and I was the one left standing there, waiting for you to decide which mattered more. I made a mistake, but don’t you dare sit there and act like you weren’t pushing me away every damn day.”
I stared at him, my chest heaving, anger and hurt swirling together in my gut. “You don’t get to blame me for your lack of control, Oak. If you were unhappy, you should’ve left. Instead, you broke every promise we made, and now you want to pin it on me? Fuck you. Sign the divorce papers, because I’m not doing this shit with you anymore.”
We must’ve been loud, because a second later, the door opened. Marcus, his brother, stepped in, looking between us with a scowl.
“Enough,” Marcus said, his tone firm. “How does yelling at each other solve anything?”
“Fine. I can solve it by leaving.” I grabbed my purse and stormed out, my heels clicking loudly against the floor. Outside, I took a deep breath, trying to calm the shaking in my hands.
I didn’t even get another full breath in before he walked up. The air kind of shifted. I swear I felt his presence.
I saw his feet first. Then smelled his sweet, spicy cologne.
“Thought I left you in Miami,” I said, raising my head, my eyes locking with Ciarán’s. I immediately tried to fix my face. I didn’t want him seeing me upset over Oak’s ass.
He smirked. “You were too far away,” he said, his voice low. “I started to feel it. Had to get back in proximity of you.”
Before I could respond, the door burst open behind me. Oak stormed out, yelling my name.
“Jordin! Don’t you fucking walk away from me!”
Ciarán’s eyes narrowed as he stepped closer to me, putting a protective arm around my waist.
I knew the minute Oak recognized who he was. I heard his feet pounding the pavement. Marcus grabbed him just in time.
“What in the fuck is he doing here?” Oak raged. “You fucking my wife?”
Ciarán chuckled. “Not yet. But something tells me it’s coming.”
I groaned.
Oak tried to break his brother’s grip. “Come here, motherfucker, say that shit to my face!”
“Oak, calm the fuck down,” Marcus barked, struggling to keep him in place. Oak thrashed, still shouting, his voice hoarse with rage.
Ciarán took a step forward, a dangerous smirk on his face. He was ready to fight. As if we hadn’t talked about him controlling his temper.
My hand slid across his chest, pressing flat against the warmth of his skin through his shirt. “Please,” I whispered, just for him. “Ignore him. Let’s just go.”
For a second, he didn’t move.
But then his gaze dropped to mine, like it always did—like I was the only thing that could touch him when he was like this.
He gave me a short nod, his fingers brushing the back of my hand.
Then, he looked at Oak—calm but coldly. “Next time, ex-husband,” he said, voice low, controlled, but filled with violence. “We’ll have this conversation next time.”
Still, he didn’t move.
So I laced my fingers with his and gave a gentle tug. “Ci…”
As we slid into the car, it was hard not to look back. Oak’s face was contorted and crimson as he fought against his brother’s hold.
