5. Chapter Five

Chapter Five

Indy — Now

V ows are everlasting.

Even broken ones.

Nolan stared at me with wide eyes, speechless. I didn’t blame him. If I were in the middle of picking up a woman and my ex-wife stormed in, ringing not-so-happy wedding bells, I’d look like a deer caught in headlights too.

But if he didn’t say something soon, I’d run him over.

“Um . . .” The woman from the bar glanced between the two of us. “I’m going to go . . .”

“That’s probably for the best.” I forced a smile, feeling guilty for putting her on the spot. I’d planned to reveal the news in a less dramatic fashion, but I’d seen nothing but red when Nolan refused to give me the time of day.

Even more when she touched him like he was hers.

I straightened myself—I had no right to be jealous. Nolan wasn’t mine, and I sure as hell wasn’t his. “Can we get this over with? Then you can tell your girlfriend she’s not a home-wrecker—”

“She’s not my girlfriend. I don’t even know her name.”

I laughed, shaking my head. That wasn’t a surprise. Nor had it been a surprise when I pulled into town tonight and found Nolan’s blue F-150 at the first place I looked—the bar. Some things never changed.

Not in the way I wished they would.

“Are you just going to stand there? Or are you going to say something to your wife?” I hissed, eager to get this over with.

“Stop saying that.” His gaze was hard, somewhere over my shoulder. I turned to follow it, but he stopped me with a hand on my wrist before dragging me through the back door and outside.

“Let go of me.” I wrenched my wrist out of his hold as the back door slammed shut. “If I wanted you to touch me, I’d ask.”

He let out a dry laugh and stared up at the night sky like he was searching for the will to live. “Well, if you’re not here for me to touch—why are you here?”

“I told you—”

“I divorced you,” Nolan whisper-hissed, something that looked like wild desperation in his eyes. “I signed those papers and sent you the hell away from Wallowpine. Don’t try to play me for a fool.”

I forced in and out a slow breath, not wanting this situation to get out of hand. “You’re not a fool.” Though, in a way, we both were. “I got a letter from your dad—”

“My dad is dead, Indy. Has been for years.” I flinched, not because I hadn’t known Wayne Graham died, but because of the bluntness he delivered it with. “Your tricks and games might’ve been fun before, but I’m over it. If you think you can come back and stir shit up by pretending my dad wrote you a letter—”

“He wrote a letter to us.” I’d said it softly, but it was enough to quiet him up. “If I were here to cause trouble, I wouldn’t do it by disgracing your dad. He’s the last one who deserves that.” I reached in my bag and pulled out the envelope—there were two letters inside. One that’d had me leaving New York in a hurry. And one specifically addressed to Nolan. He stared at it, and I didn’t know if it was because he didn’t want to acknowledge the truth or if he was afraid to read his dad’s words. “I know it means nothing, but I grieved him, Nolan. ”

“You weren’t at the funeral.”

I shrugged. It didn’t matter what I said, the truth remained the same—I hadn’t been there. “Life got in the way.”

He huffed a laugh, but instead of telling me what he thought about my lame excuse, he grabbed the envelope. I shifted in my heels, uncomfortable as he read the words that’d had me hustling like a bat out of hell to remedy this. He muttered a curse, and I assumed he’d read the part where his dad—Wayne Graham—admitted he’d intervened with our divorce papers.

Almost four years ago, Nolan had filed for divorce. We hadn’t lived together, much less talked, in years. I’d known it was time to stop avoiding the inevitable, but it had still been a blow to receive the divorce papers in the mail. Regardless, I’d signed them uncontested and shoved my wedding band in the envelope before returning them for him to file.

Two months later, I received a letter, declaring my divorce was finalized. My marriage was finished.

Or so I’d thought.

“I—I don’t understand.” Nolan smeared a hand through his hair. “You signed the papers. I signed them. We’re divorced.”

I shrugged. Years ago, I would’ve been patient as he unraveled the truth, but I was done. I’d wasted enough time. “We’re not. I already hired a lawyer, and according to the state of Arizona, we’re married.”

“There’s no way. I filed the papers. I put them in the mail—” He froze mid-sentence, his eyes widening. “I—I gave them to Dad. He said he’d file them for me.”

I clamped my mouth shut, resisting the urge to snap at Nolan for not taking care of it himself in the first place. He was a grown man. He’d wanted the divorce; he should’ve been the one to file for it. But I hadn’t come here to fight. I was here to wipe my hands of him once and for all.

“It’s a waste of time to try and figure out what went wrong. Clearly your dad intervened. He admitted to it.” After reading the letter yesterday, I’d dug through my apartment in search of the divorce certificate I’d gotten in the mail years ago. Looking at it with clear eyes and not a broken heart, it was obvious it was a fake. I didn’t know where the hell Wayne had gotten it, but it was my own fault for not paying attention. If I hadn’t been so reckless and heartbroken, I would’ve realized it was a much deeper process to get divorced than simply signing a paper. “I don’t know why or what your dad was thinking, but there’s nothing we can do about it now. Nothing but finish what we started.”

“Finish what we started?”

Reaching into my bag, I pulled out a manila envelope. “Like I said, I hired a lawyer.” Nolan opened his mouth, seemingly ready to protest, but I beat him to it. “You might think we don’t need one. I’m sure we could both be mature enough and separate what’s ours fairly, but I’m not taking risks this time. My lawyer drew up the papers for us. If you’d feel more comfortable having someone look over them for you, that’s fine, but I can assure you it’s perfectly fair. I think we can both agree we want this over with.”

He glanced between me and the papers, nothing but heavy disbelief on his face. Neither of us had expected to see the other again, let alone under these circumstances. “You didn’t read this one?” he asked, holding up the letter addressed to him.

I shook my head, my voice delicate. “It wasn’t addressed to me . . . It didn’t feel right to open it.”

“Did he write you one too?”

“No,” I told him honestly. “It was just those two letters. I didn’t recognize the name of who sent it. It showed up at my office yesterday.”

Nolan nodded, taking that as answer enough. He ran his thumb alongside the edge of the letter, and I held my breath, anxious to know what was inside. But when he tucked it into his back pocket, I took a step back.

I’d lost any right to know what went on in Nolan’s life a long time ago.

“Thanks for the heads-up, I guess?” He let out a low laugh, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe this was his life. “I’m going to go over the papers, but I’ll get ’em done. Is your lawyer’s information in here so I know who to send it to?”

I adjusted the bag on my shoulder. “You can just give it to me.”

“New York is the last place I want to visit. Just give me your lawyer’s information. I’d prefer to communicate with them. ”

My eye twitched, but I blamed my annoyance on the fact I was exhausted and I’d spent over half the day traveling with a cat. I glanced at the yellow taxi down the road, ensuring it hadn’t taken off. “I’m going to be in town for a while, so you can just drop them off at my parents’ house or the diner when you’re finished. My lawyer can contact you if he needs to.”

He narrowed his eyes, his voice flat. “You’re . . . you’re staying here? In Wallowpine?” I nodded, and you would’ve thought from the way he glared at me, I’d told him I was here to win him back. “Why?”

I bit my lip, refusing to admit the full truth. I’d rather swallow hot coals than admit to him my life might or might not be in shambles. “To help my parents.”

“You’ve never helped them before.”

I recoiled at that, and any compassion I might’ve felt toward him vanished. He didn’t want me here. That was fine—I didn’t want to be here. “Just drop the papers off at my parents’ or the diner. Or if it’s that big of a deal to see me, just send them to my lawyer. I don’t care what you do as long as it gets us divorced.” I smiled, praying my eyes were clear. “I want to be here even less than you want me to. So let’s stay away from each other. No sense in making each other more miserable than we already have.”

Nolan stared at me, and I him, giving me a chance to fully look at him. To absorb the man he’d grown into. His hair was the same golden blond, the sides clipped short and the top long. His face was clean-shaven, and even though I wore heels, he stood over me, his shoulders wide, legs long, and waist lean. It was dark, but I could see the faint crinkles beside his eyes, the fading freckles on his cheeks.

He’d changed . . . grown into a man.

I might’ve been a fool and looked forever, if not for the flash of red and blue and the sound of a siren. A car pulled up beside us, and the gravel shifted beneath my feet as I turned to face the officer opening the driver’s side door. I barely registered what was happening when a man said, “Indy Tyler—I have a warrant for your arrest. ”

I turned to Nolan, searching for his help, but he was no longer by my side. He was across the parking lot, climbing into his truck. I realized then he hadn’t changed. Everything was the same as it had been before.

He was walking away without a fight.

Again.