Every Wrong Reason

I hated that it wasn’t because I wanted to look professional or grown up. I hated that I wanted to look good so Nick could see what he was losing. I wanted him to regret this… to regret losing me.

And I wanted him to recognize the woman he couldn’t keep his hands off three weeks ago.

I was sick.

There was something wrong with me.

“Ms. Carter,” my lawyer greeted unhappily.

“Mr. Cavanaugh, I hope you haven’t been waiting long.”

He made a grunting noise I didn’t know how to interpret. “They’re waiting for us.” His wrinkled arm swept toward a hallway. “This way.”

I followed him around the corner and found Nick leaning against a doorframe I could see led to the conference room. A rush of nerves washed over my body. It started at the top of my head and deluged my entire being with sharp shivers and a cold sweat.

I shouldn’t be here.

No, wait. This was exactly why I was here.

I had to face him.

I had to end this.

My heart clenched at the way his eyebrows scrunched together and the fierce concern in his blue eyes. Oh, god, why had I ever wanted them to come alive again? Why had I ever hoped that he would see me again? I should have wished for his gaze to stay lifeless.

At least around me.

It was too much.

He was too much.

“Are you all right, Ms. Carter?” Mr. Cavanaugh’s hand landed with a tentative thump on my shoulder. “Ms. Carter? Kate?”

I blinked my lawyer into focus. “Huh?”

“Are you all right?” he repeated.

Courage, I demanded from my body. Strength, I whispered desperately. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

His forehead wrinkle tripled with concern. “You stopped walking.”

My brave façade crumpled, “I, uh, I… I thought I was ready for this, but…”

He leaned in and I tried not to wrinkle my nose against his pungent cologne. It was enough to wake me from my Nick-induced stupor, however. “He can’t take anything from you unless you let him, Ms. Carter. We’ll fight every last thing to the bone if we have to.”

I let out a shaky breath and nodded my head even though I knew his words were a lie. Nick didn’t have to wait for me to relinquish anything. He’d already taken enough.

He’d taken too much.

My happiness. My heart. My soul.

So why did the sight of him like this physically hurt me? Why did I have the almost undeniable compulsion to throw myself into his arms and never let go?

Mr. Cavanaugh’s hand fell to my elbow where he nudged me forward. It didn’t take long before we reached a clipped pace, hurrying toward the conference room as if we couldn’t wait to be there.

I sucked in a sharp breath and held it as we passed Nick. Mr. Cavanaugh stepped aside to let me go first and I hoped to slip by Nick without incident.

His hand reached out and grabbed my wrist, “We need to talk,” he said in a low, gravelly voice.

I shook my head once, letting him know I would not discuss anything other than our reasons for being here. “That’s why we’re here, isn’t it? We’re going to talk about this maturely. We’re going to act like grownups.”

“Two minutes,” he demanded. “I want two minutes.” He tugged on his earlobe with his free hand and my tenacity drained out of me. He wasn’t playing fair.

It was on the tip of my tongue to agree. He wasn’t the only one that wanted to say something about the other night. I needed to make sure he knew it was a one time deal.

I needed him to acknowledge that it was a mistake.

I’d been afraid of that very thing until this moment. Until I stood before him and started to question my own resolve.

“Kate?” my lawyer urged from behind me. “We need to get started.”

Nick’s sapphire eyes flashed up to glare at my lawyer. “She’s paying you by the hour, isn’t she? Bill her.”

Bill me? Wait a second…

“Charming,” Mr. Cavanaugh mumbled.

“Let’s just get this over with, Nick. I don’t want to be here any more than you do.”

He stood up straighter and hit me with his steely gaze. “Yeah, but our reasons could not be more different.”

My mouth felt suddenly like sandpaper. God, since when did he start talking in code? Why couldn’t this be easy?

Or at least easier?

I walked into the conference room and closed my eyes against the sweet coolness that hit my face. This room was super cooled and even though the November chill had turned biting and ice-filled, I had been overly warm since I walked in this building.

Seriously, I was bordering on pit stains here. All this nervous energy gave me hot flashes straight from hell.

Nick’s lawyer was young and attractive. He exuded an energy that made me feel like chum in shark infested waters- meaning, I could tell he was good at his job before he ever opened his mouth.

The conference room matched him. A huge, gleaming table sat in the middle of the room, surrounded by tall, comfortable leather chairs. Floor to ceiling windows took up one entire wall, boasting a beautiful view of the city and the busy traffic down below.

I glanced back at dear, old Mr. Cavanaugh and realized he hadn’t given me his first name. I knew it from when I looked it up, but he’d asked me to specifically call him Mr. Cavanaugh.

Nick was without a doubt on a first name basis with his lawyer. They probably went golfing on Saturdays because that was the kind of client services this kid provided. Then Nick would get a bill in the mail for six thousand dollars and an invitation to do it all over again.

I hated the guy before he ever jutted out his hand and introduced himself as Ryan Templeton.

“Kate Carter,” I said in return and gracefully extracted my hand.

“Normally I would say it’s a pleasure to meet you, Kate, but…”

“It’s not,” I finished for him.

His smile told me he was used to this response. He waved at a chair for me to take and I did so I wouldn’t have to small talk with him anymore.

“I’m just going to grab Marty and tell him we’re ready.”

Marty Furbish was the man we’d hired to mediate. He came highly recommended from Mr. Cavanaugh and apparently Nick’s camp agreed. I hoped he was as nice as his name made him sound. I had a feeling I would need all the help I could get today.

Mr. Cavanaugh sat down next to me and opened his briefcase on the table to pull out the documents we would need. He handed me a legal pad and a pen and told me I could take my own notes if I wished.

I thought that was thoughtful of him. I immediately doodled my name and today’s date in the right-hand corner. Teacherly habit.

Nick took the seat directly across from me and I breathed a little easier with the heavy, wide table between us. Ryan ushered Marty Furbish into the room, showed him to his seat at the head of the table, then took his seat next to Nick.

We were officially ready to begin.

The begi

Ryan slid me an itemized list of all of the material possessions Nick considered his. “Among the items we have listed here, which my client claims are his,” I began to peruse them slowly, ticking off everything with begrudging approval, “my client would also like full ownership of the house. Ms. Carter may willingly give up her portion or sell fifty percent of the appraised-”

“What?” My murderous glare found Nick’s and if looks could kill, I wouldn’t need to file for divorce, I’d be able to collect his life insurance.

Neither his stare nor his voice wavered. “I want the house, Katie.”

“But you can’t afford the house!”

“I can.”

“You can’t.”

“I can.”

“You forget that I know what you make, Nick. You can’t afford it! Besides, you already agreed to give it to me!”