Page 105 of Breakout
“You’re bringing your lawyer into this?”
“Yes, now can you get her signature or not? We can forge it, but it’s preferable if it’s real.”
“Not. I’m not faking her signature or making her sign shit. If our marriage goes up in a ball of flames, then fuck me, but it won’t.”
He sighs in disappointment. “You’re going to regret this. I’m going to have to cut you off to save our finances.”
“Just as much as you are going to regret trying to buy her off. Let’s see which one of us folds first. To be clear, I don’t need or want your money.”
“That was a surprise I wasn’t expecting,” he confesses.
Something close to pride fills me over the fact my wife caught him off guard.
“Since neither of you are willing to work with me, I guess this means we will just have to do this another way.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It means I’ll make all this go away one way or another, and in return, you will stop playing hockey. Ever since you’ve gone to college, you’ve been rebellious and your life has gotten off track, but that’s okay. It’s nothing I can’t fix. I’ll clear up this little marriage issue, and then you’ll start properly courting Penny.”
I lean forward and wait to speak until I know all of his attention is on me. “I’m going to say this once, okay, so listen really close, Dad.” His eyes narrow, but I push forward. “I’m not divorcing Peyton. She is my wife and will be my only wife until the day I die. I will not quit hockey until the day I can’t play anymore. My life is on track for exactly how I want to live it, and you just need to accept it.”
“Beckett…” he warns, his face becoming red.
“No, Dad, I’m done with you and your bullshit. We are done.”
“You’re cut off. I’m serious about that.”
“You can keep your money. I don’t need it,” I tell him as I stand and start to walk away.
“You’re going to regret this.”
“The only thing I regret is not cutting you out sooner. Now stay away from my wife and me.” I pause before I step outside and throw one last barb. “And for the millionth time, I don’t like lamb!”
As soon as I step out of the café, I take a deep breath and feel like I can breathe for the first time in years.
Good fucking riddance.
twenty-three
Ihave never taken so much time off of work before, yet here I am once again taking several days off to support Beckett.
It’s funny how things change. If you had asked me three months ago, I would have told you I wouldn’t call out of work even if I was half dead. Now I find myself doing it without a second thought. I’ve even already put in for time off for Beckett’s graduation and the draft day.
I’m a sucker for Beckett Hayes.
I don’t think I even care if anyone knows it anymore.
We are back once again at the Boston Foxes’ arena for the championship game between the Walker Wolves and the Kensington Penguins. Both teams have had amazing seasons and deserve to be here. Each one would be worthy of the title, but I only want one team to win.
I want Beckett to leave college on a high with one last win under his belt. One last celebration with the team.
“You are chipper today. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you move with a pep in your step,” Cora jokes as I practically skip up the steps.
“It’s a good day. The guys are going to win. I can feel it in my bones. Hey, can you draw Beck’s number on me again?” I ask.
“Beck, huh?”
Smiling to myself, I nod. “Yeah. Beck.”
