I watched Nick’s back with fascinated awe, wondering how to engage him. His spine was absolutely straight. His shoulders were taut with tension and from the view of his profile that he gave me I could see his jaw flex and release.
He was dressed nicely again, gray slacks and a light blue oxford with a stylish gray vest that made the outfit look expensive and tailored. Maybe it was expensive and tailored. His hair had been styled back from his face. He wore the watch I bought him two Christmases ago. His shoes were shiny.
Oh, my god, who was this man?
My heart thumped painfully.
“Annie’s better,” I blurted.
He turned his head slightly, still not looking at me. “Your dad called me.”
“Oh.” My parents were traitors. So was my dog.
So was my heart.
The elevator stopped and the doors slid open. Gripped by fear and doubt, I grabbed Nick’s wrist and pulled him to a stop.
“Wait,” I pleaded.
He didn’t look at me. He didn’t even turn his head. “I want this over, Kate. I want it finished.”
I let go of his wrist and he shifted his shoulders, adjusting his shirt without physically tugging it into place. He walked out of the elevator with purpose, striding straight for the conference room.
Mr. Cavanaugh waited for me in the greeting area again. His expression read concern and maybe something else… maybe something like pity.
“Ms. Carter,” he nodded when I finally found the courage to step out of the elevator.
“Hi, Mr. Cavanaugh.”
His voice gentled and he asked, “Are you all right?”
I swallowed thickly and looked at the hallway where Nick had disappeared, “Is anyone ever all right during these things?”
He chuckled at my candor. “No, Ms. Carter. They are not.” We had stood there for another moment before he gestured toward the conference room. “Should we go get settled?”
I didn’t verbally respond, but I did follow after him-a feat I didn’t think I was capable of.
Nick stood in the corner of the cool room, in a quiet discussion with his lawyer. They both flicked glances our way when we entered the room, but that was it. Just a glance of bitter acknowledgment that I had entered into his space. That was all I got.
I sat down in one of the rolling leather chairs and tried not to let self-pity swallow me whole. I straightened my spine and masked my expression with false bravado. I would not let him see me ruffled.
This man had been in my bed three nights ago. This man had held me all night long. He had wrapped his arms around me like he never wanted to let go and fought with me the next morning when I suggested that what we did was a mistake.
He wasn’t indifferent to me. He was the opposite of that.
I held on to that small portion of hope. I clung to it. I couldn’t sit here and enter into this discussion if I really thought Nick hated me.
When had that changed?
I reached for the cold bottle of water that had been set out for me and took a shaking sip.
Nick took a seat across from me and his lawyer followed. Marty Furbish walked into the room and took a seat at the head of the table. Ryan made an announcement reminding us where the restrooms were and that we should ask if we needed anything, but I barely heard anything he said.
When we were finally settled, Nick leveled me with a steely gaze and said with finality, “I want this finished today. Whatever it takes… however long it takes… I want this to be done.”
The lawyers looked at me next. I forced words from my lips. Words I wasn’t sure I felt. “Me, too.”
Marty let out a pleased sigh. Mr. Cavanaugh relaxed just barely, but I felt it next to me. He wanted this over as much as I did.
“Good,” Ryan Templeton nodded. “Now, if we can all apply a little give and take, we can finish this part and move on to the next. You’ll be divorced before you know it.” His smile was meant to ease the tension in the room. But it did the opposite.
I felt a panic attack slide over my skin, squeezing my lungs and blurring my vision.