My heart stops. “Troy, what did you do?”
“You really didn’t think this through.” He laughs again, and the sound makes my blood run cold. “In your rush to show me what a selfish slut you really are, you pulled him right into the deep end with you. Did you even spare him a thought? No, because you only think about yourself and what you want.”
“Troy, don’t—”
“If you think the PR looks bad for you at our little firm, what will it look like when these photos get blasted all over the tabloids?” he challenges. “How do you think his team will appreciate seeing his name linked with yours in a messy adultery scandal?”
I’m shaking my head in stunned disbelief. He can’t be serious. He wouldn’t do this. “Troy—”
“And I bet a guy like that has some nice endorsement deals, doesn’t he?”
My heart stops.
“Yeah, I looked him up, and he’s only on a year-long contract with the Rays. I bet they’re making him an offer, right? Some kind of extension option or a fancy new trade deal?” He’s fishing, waiting for me to confirm. I say nothing, and he laughs again. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Ours isn’t the only family business out there, Tess. The NHL, the Rays, his brand deals—they’ll all go running faster than rats on a sinking ship. Where will your sexy boy toy be then? You think he’ll still be interested in your stretched out pussy when he’s fired for all the bad press you brought him? A lifetime of hard work down the drain over one regrettable lay.”
“Don’t,” I whisper, panic rising.
“Can you imagine?” he teases, twisting the knife. He knows he’s got me now. I have to let him make his threats. “And these photos are graphic, Tessy. I particularly like the ones where you’re riding his face. Further proof that you’re selfish, even in sex. Why don’t you get on your knees for once?”
“You wouldn’t,” I say, trying to call his bluff. “You’re not going to put Ryan on blast because that just paints you as the weak man who couldn’t keep his woman. You don’t want the bad press of this any more than he does—”
“I’m past caring,” he shouts. “You don’t get to make a fool of me and make demands and just expect me to roll over and take it. That’s not how this works.”
“Troy, please—”
“We made a vow,” he shouts over me. “And I’ll be damned if you’re gonna waltz away with a flick of your little finger and break it. Who’s the weak one here, Tess? The one ready to stand and try and make this work, or the one on the run?”
I shut my eyes, trying to block out his cutting words. The way he oscillates between cutting me down and claiming he wants the marriage to work has my head spinning. I’m dizzy, I’m distracted, which is his whole freaking point. He wants me confused. He wants me upended.
I take hold of the only thing that provides me any point of anchor.
Ryan.
“Troy, you leave him out of this,” I demand, knowing my traitor of a voice sounds more like a plea. “He has nothing to do with any of this—”
“That’s not the story I’ll tell in the press. And that’s not the image those pictures will paint,” he counters, his self-righteous dominance seeping through the phone. It covers me like a toxic ooze, and I actually feel myself lifting the phone away from my ear. “Keep trying to have your way with me, and I’ll ruin you both, I swear to fucking God.”
“Leave him alone!”
“Then do as you’re fucking told for once in your spoiled goddamn life!”
I close my eyes tight, not letting the tears fall. He’s won this round. We both know it. He found my weakness. Love is always a weakness. Caring for other people leaves you open for heartbreak. When am I ever going to learn that lesson? Ryan is my weakness now, and Troy has a knife to his throat. I can’t even pretend not to care. Troy will see right through it.
“What are you telling me to do, Troy? What do you want? How do you win?”
“Come home,” he replies. “You’re done playing turtle rescue. And you’re done playing house with that jock asshole. Get on the next plane for Cincinnati. Come home, and we’ll discuss the terms of an amicable divorce in person. Two parties, behaving as loving, reasonable adults. Not one reasonable adult and one wild runaway.”
“I can’t just leave,” I cry, glancing around the office. “The fundraiser is tomorrow. I’ve been working on it for weeks, Troy. I can’t abandon it now. I can’t do that to Ilmari, to my volunteers. I can’t—”