The receptionist led them into one of the conference rooms. Kevin Lawrence, their lawyer, waited for them with two sets of papers on the long mahogany table.
“Ariana. Nick.” Kevin shook first her hand and then Nick’s. He pointed her to one side of the table and Nick to the other.
She sat down, keeping her gaze firmly on the papers in front of her. This was it. Another wave of remorse filled her. She’d made so many mistakes in the last year of their relationship, but there was no going back. The things she’d lived through were much too painful to forget. Those first years were amazing. She sometimes wondered if she’d dreamt them up. They’d been perfect. Or as close to perfect as one could get. Not because of the sex, though that had been amazing on its own. It had been more. The way they could just…talk.
“Since neither of you made any claims on the other’s income, the only issue is the custody over Harley.”
At the mention of her golden retriever, Ariana glanced up, her gaze colliding with Nick’s.
She cleared her throat from the sand that wanted to permanently live there, tearing her gaze from Nick. “Harley lives with me for part of the year and with Nick the rest of the year.” There was no fighting that. Harley was special to both of them.
“Oh.” Kevin frowned, glanced down at his papers and made a note.
“Is there a problem?” She skimmed through her own copy of the divorce agreement, searching for the notes on Harley. Her hands trembled. She cursed her inability to control her body.
Harley was the only thing that helped her keep her sanity through the past year and a half. Most people didn’t understand how important she was to Ari. The emotional support of having unwavering devotion from Harley had helped heal some of her wounds. For her, Harley had been a reason to keep moving forward. Not to let the pain of the failed marriage destroy her completely. Those first days after the separation, she’d fought the urge to stay in bed for days. It had been Harley with her big brown eyes and wagging tail who had made her snap out of it. Harley had kept her in one piece on days she almost let the agony of losing her marriage overpower her.
To her family, Harley was just a sweet dog, but they didn’t know she’d lain beside Ari while she cried herself to sleep. She’d kept watch and never left Ari alone. Harley was priceless.
“No, no.” Kevin waved his hand in dismissal, his wedding ring glinting in the room’s light. Ari’s gaze slid down to her own hand. She’d taken the bands off that morning. How pathetic would she look to go sign divorce papers still wearing her wedding rings? A quick look at Nick’s hand showed a ringless finger also, but the pale shadow of where his band used to reside was clearly marked. The thought that he’d continued to wear it all this time was surreal.
Kevin smiled back and forth between them. “It’s just that I thought you alternated weekends, and so I just need to go into my office and make a quick change before you both sign these. Just give me a few minutes, and we’ll continue.” He stood to go. The chair he’d been sitting on rolled back, hit the wall, and bounced forward. “I’ll be back in a moment.”
The minute Kevin left, tension flared, hot and thick, between her and Nick. Anxiety danced over her skin, turning her already tense muscles into stone. She could only hope her emotions held back until she was home and could let them loose without worrying about anyone watching. There would be no crying. The last thing she needed was to show how upset she was over the divorce when he was so calm, cool, and collected. It was hard when what she really wanted to do was scream and yell at him. Maybe even hit him. Ask—no, demand to know if he had ever cared at all.
“You can look at me, Ari.” The sound of Nick’s deep rich timber caressed her spine and made her want to shudder. Instead, she held stock-still, locking her muscles in place.
Her earlier anger bubbled to the surface. She couldn’t take it anymore. After a short internal struggle, she glanced up and met his gaze. “I know that. I choose not to.”
His eyes held so much cold distance. That distance annoyed her to the point she was ready to throw stuff. She was having a hard time keeping shit together while he sat there as if it was no big deal that the only link they had left was being put to rest. His nonchalance was playing havoc with her emotions and self-control. It also broke down her belief that he might still care about her. About them. Not a single ounce of worry or anxiety showed in the deep baby blues of his eyes. Everything about him screamed, “I don’t care.”
“Ari, things don’t have to end this way—”