The Game Changer(15)
He inhaled a long breath before releasing it against the top of my head, causing strands of my hair to fall in front of my eyes. I pushed them away as I waited for his response. “A lot longer than I intended. My plan was to stay there for a couple weeks before heading back to Alabama to pack up my stuff and finalize the annulment. I honestly figured two to three weeks was enough time. That the bitch would sign it and I’d be on my way here before Christmas.”
“Good thing I didn’t hold my breath.”
He huffed. “Yeah. The past six months has been nothing but drama, Kitten. I’m not sorry for leaving you out of it, but I am sorry for letting it go on for so long.”
I leaned away from the warmth of his body and into the cold cushions, squaring my shoulders toward him. “Why did it take so long? How could she fight the annulment, anyway?”
My cell phone rang, waking me from a deep sleep and forcing my eyes to pop open. Anticipation rushed through me as Marc’s name appeared on the screen. “Hey, Marc,” I said, my voice groggy.
“Jack, we have a problem.”
“What kind of problem?” I asked, scooting my back up against the wall.
“She won’t sign.”
“Huh? Who won’t?” I stopped short before continuing. “What do you mean, she won’t sign? I thought this was a done deal? An easy fix?” My heart slammed itself against my rib cage.
“Her lawyer’s stating your claims are ridiculous. That no fraud was committed and therefore his client won’t sign under those terms.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? What terms will she sign under?” I fought to keep my anger under control.
“She won’t sign an annulment. But she’ll consider signing divorce papers, although his client would rather work things out.”
“Work things out? Are you fucking joking?”
“I wish.”
“You have to fix this, Marc. She faked a pregnancy to force me to marry her. How is that not fraud?” I threw the magazine sitting next to me against the wall and watched it fall to the ground.
“It is. But the burden of proof is on us.”
“So, let’s prove it then,” I insisted.
“We’re going to have a hard time doing that since she has plenty of documentation supporting her claims,” he sighed.
“What kind of documentation?”
“Well, doctor’s reports, for starters.”
Fuck.
I’d forgotten about the fact that Chrystle had doctor’s prescriptions, appointments, and paperwork.
“Can’t we sue the doctor for malpractice or something?”
“We would have to prove that he lied as well, which would be extremely difficult given the circumstances.”
When people allege that anger has the ability to shoot through them with such force that they see red… well, it’s true. I saw red. Literally.
“This is so fucked up. What can I do?”
“Nothing, Jack. Right now I want you to stay where you are and let me handle this,” he said, his tone calm and professional.
I gripped the edge of the mattress, my fingers digging into it. “All my stuff’s still in Alabama.”
“Don’t step foot in that state until I tell you it’s OK. You hear me?”
I cringed as he told me what to do. “We’ll see.”
“Jack, it’s my job to look out for you. For once, let me do that. Please.” His voice sounded strained, and I sighed.
“OK.”
“I’ll call you soon.”
I pressed the End button on my cell phone and threw it against the wall. Why the fuck was this girl so hell-bent on ruining my life? I can’t move past this one mistake if I can’t put it in the past. Why couldn’t she be a decent human being and sign the damn papers?
Knuckles rapped on my bedroom door. “Can I come in?”
“Yeah.”
Dean walked in and glanced at the phone on the floor before closing the door behind him. “What’s going on? I heard you yelling.”
I looked him straight in the eyes. “You were right. She won’t sign the papers.”
He moved toward my bed, sitting down at the opposite end. “Shit, Jack. I’m sorry. So, what does that mean?”
I closed my eyes, pinching the skin at the bridge of my nose to relieve the stress. “I don’t know. Marc’s working on it.”
“Do you want to go out or something? Get out of the house for a bit?”
“I need to be alone right now.”
Dean stood up from my bed without another word and left my room. I grabbed the notebook sitting on my dresser and flipped it open to a blank page. How quickly this whole letter-writing thing turned into habit. It helped to put my thoughts somewhere when all I wanted to do was pick up the phone and dial Cassie’s number.