Acts of Redemption: Chapter 24
Acts of Redemption: A Second Chance Romance (Men of WRATH Book 3)
My palms are sweaty as I exit the powder room. I swear, Iâve had to pee a million times today. My heart rate picks up the closer I walk toward the conference room where I left Aiden and Thompson, my attorney.
After hashing and rehashing it, I decided to meet Preston and his legal team in person. Living with the man taught me that he will go through extreme lengths to get what he wants, but if I manage to make it seem like Iâm giving in somehow, then maybe, just maybe, heâll give me this one thing. An uncontested divorce.
âYou seem refreshed,â a voice whispers behind me, causing my already erratic heartbeat to sputter. âArenât you going to greet your husband, Charlotte?â
âYou are not my husband. A husband doesnât treat their wife the way you treated me.â Whirling around on him, my eyes narrow. âDistance has refreshed me. Itâs given me the clarity to see how toxic our relationship was. Never again, Preston. Never again will I let you control or mistreat me.â
Prestonâs hand shoots out, gripping my wrist with bruising pressure. âThis isnât over, Charlotte. Far from it.â
âEverything okay out here?â Aidenâs voice booms behind me and a sense of calm washes over me. Turning toward him, I see his eyes trained on Prestonâs hand, and by extension my reddening wrist.
Preston releases his death grip on me, placing both of his hands on his lapels and straightening his suit jacket. âAiden.â He walks past me and then Aiden without answering his question.
Aiden walks to me, where Iâm still visibly shaking. âItâs okay if you want to call this off. We donât have to do these negotiations in person.â
âNo. I refuse to let his actixons control me. Iâm no weak damsel. Itâs time he saw what Iâm really made of.â Chin held high, I take in a deep breath and walk my ass into the conference room. I meant what I said, itâs time Preston met the real Charlotte Montgomery.
Beady eyes meet mine as I slip into my chair at the large oak table. Prestonâs attorney, Scott Mortimer, clears his throat. âMrs. Rutherford.â
I cringe at his use of my married name. âPlease, call me Charlotte.â
âVery well, Charlotte.â He purses his lips before turning to my attorney, âShall we begin?â
Thompson looks at me and I nod. âThat would be a yes. What exactly does your client want? I thought the petition was pretty cut and dry.â He produces another copy of the document and slides it across the table. âMy client isnât asking for a dime other than what she came into the marriage with. You and I both know that sheâs entitled to an equitable division of the marital assets since there is no prenup. But instead of trying to fight for any of that, all she wants is for your client to agree to an uncontested divorce.â
âSheâs lying. She needs me. She needs my money!â Prestonâs previously composed expression shifts into one of the monster I know all too well. He must be really angry if heâs letting it come out in public.
Through my periphery I can see Aidenâs hand clench under the table and I have to give him a small shake of the head. It isnât worth it to react. It will only make things worse and I want this over with as soon as possible.
âDo you see that?â Prestonâs eyes go wild as he looks between Aiden and me, pointing his finger and shaking it in the air. âThey have a secret language.â
Mortimer looks at his client, horrified. Oh, thatâs right buddy, didnât know thatâs what lies underneath that bespoke suit.
âMr. Rutherford, if youâd please let me do the talking.â Mortimer raises a brow, trying to get his client back in control.
Preston mumbles something unintelligible but settles back into his chair.
âYes, we are fully aware of whatâs in your petition.â Mortimer pushes the document back toward my attorney. âBut my client is willing to give Charlotte half of the marital assets as well as the summer home in the Hamptons if sheâd at least agree to marital counseling.â
My mouth falls open. Thatâs his family home. Why in the world would he even offer it up to me? I look at him, and for the first time I see a lost little boy in place of the monster Iâve grown accustomed to. My heart clenches, and a pang of guilt hits me straight in the chest.
âCharlotte, would you like a moment to think it over?â Thompson speaks softly as to not spook me.
My thoughts are all a jumble and my head is in a fog. Itâs not the damn house that has me so stirred up, itâs the fact that heâd be willing to offer it to me, but for what? Counseling that wonât work.
Looking at the man I married, my brows furrow, âPreston. I really donât think counseling will fix us.â
âPlease, Charlotte.â He twirls the wedding band I gave him as his watery eyes look to me in supplication.
My chest feels like itâs being ripped open, my heart being dragged out and slid across the table. Looking over at Aiden, I see his jaw is clenched and the vein on his neck is visible, the pulse beating rapidly.
âChar.â Prestonâs voice snaps me back to him, and itâs apparent that he caught me staring at my bodyguard. âPlease. Iâm begging you.â His voice cracks and I know he must be desperate. In all my time with him, Iâve never heard him beg for anything to anyone.
Ringing the fabric of my skirt in my hands, I turn toward my attorney, âI need to think about it please. Can we reschedule this meeting, please?â
âOf course.â Thompson turns to Mortimer. âIâll have my secretary reach out. How does a week from now sound?â
I nod and so does Preston, a precarious smile appearing on his pale face.
âVery well then.â Thompson and Aiden get up from their seats, but I canât seem to move. I feel like Iâm being weighed down by bags of sand, my mind still in a deep fog. âMiss Charlotte?â
Looking up at my attorney, I put on a fake smile. âYes. Thank you for your assistance today.â
âOf course, miss.â He extends his hand, pulling me out of my chair.
Finally braving a glance at Aiden, I see that all emotion has left his face. He is a blank slab of indifference and my heart plummets deeper into the pit of my stomach.
I need to fix this situation Iâve put myself in. This isnât fair to him.
Despite my wanting to reach out and grab a hold of his hand, I maintain my distance all the way to our SUV. Once inside, Aiden instructs the driver to take us to Williamâs home.
Aiden keeps his eyes trained forward, not sparing me a glance, his indifference deepening the ever growing crater in my chest.
âAiden.â I hesitantly say his name in a whispered hush.
âNo. Thereâs nothing you need to tell me. Preston is your husband.â His jaw clenches, the stubble covered skin flexing in the dim lighting of the car.
âI donât want to be with him,â I rush out before I lose him forever. âIn there, I just felt like I owed him something. Maybe a chance to explain why heâs done what heâs done. Maybe the counseling will help him see the error of his ways.â
âWhy? So he could be a better husband for six months only to return to beating you to a bloody pulp behind closed doors?â He finally turns to look at me, his rich hazel eyes piercing daggers into my soul.
âNo, Aiden. I am not getting back with him. Under any circumstances and no matter what he promises.â I blow out a breath, frustrated with this whole process. Frustrated with myself.
âThen why, Charlotte? Why give him hope?â His eyes narrow, but his voice drops, shifting from angry to hurt, and my heart clenches once again.
âHe has issues. That much is clear. If going to therapy will help him see the light and get over whatever it is, thatâs causing him to behave like a monster, then Iâll have helped make him a better man. I promised him through better or worse, Aiden. I gave him my word.â My hand raises to my chest, pressing into the skin and somehow trying to stop the deep ache I feel inside.
âThat promise doesnât count when heâs treating you like a punching bag, Charlotte.â Aiden turns away from me and I feel like the cold night after the sun has stopped shining.
âNo, it doesnât. I know that. Iâm not stupid. But it still should mean something.â A lone tear falls down my face, mourning the idea that Aiden and I could ever be a thing. âI think I owe him that much at least. Helping him through this.â
Aiden doesnât respond, instead he takes out his phone and begins to type something on it. Before we know it, weâre stopping in front of a massive skyscraper in downtown Dallas.
The driver gets out and opens my door, getting out I expect Aiden to follow me but he doesnât. Instead, William greets me on the sidewalk, directing me toward another car.
Iâm about to turn back toward Aiden when the driver closes the door, shutting the man of my dreams behind it. My knees wobble and my hands wrap around my stomach as I dry heave.
What have I done?