Such Great Heights - Sydney Logan Page 0,33
absolutely screen all phone calls until you’ve spoken to your wife.”
That won’t be a problem. I plan to rip the phone out of the wall as soon as I get home.
We confirm our next appointment, and I thank the doctor for seeing us on such short notice. Ryder takes my hand as the three of us walk out into the fresh air.
“Time for ice cream?” he asks with a smile.
What I wouldn’t give to keep that smile on his face every day of his life.
“You bet.”
Hand-in-hand, the three of us walk down the street to our favorite ice cream shop.
As always, Olivia had remained calm throughout the entire mess, being our anchor in the storm. Loving my son. Reassuring me. Doing everything in her power to console and comfort.
It wasn’t until Ryder fell asleep that I got the chance to see her claws come out.
“Who does Natasha think she is?” Olivia growled, slamming the door to my study. “When did she leave? March?”
She’s breathless, her eyes blazing with fury.
“Yes, she left in March.”
“This is September! Why is she calling now? Upsetting him. Upsetting you! If I ever meet her, I swear I will stomp her into the ground!”
I hide my grin.
I can’t lie. She’s even more gorgeous when she’s mad.
“Come here.”
Olivia sighs heavily. “We can’t. Distance, remember?”
“I can hold you.”
She walks around the desk, and I reach for her, pulling her into my lap. Kissing her forehead, I let her sweet scent calm my nerves as I hold her tight.
“Why did she call, Jackson?”
“I have no idea.”
“What if she wants to come back?”
“She can’t.”
“But what if she wants to?”
“She can’t. But honestly, I don’t think that’s what she wants. Maybe she wants to talk to me about the divorce. I would welcome that, honestly.”
Olivia nods. “What if she calls again?”
“I disconnected the landline. And I’ll call the phone company tomorrow to get rid of it for good. We don’t use it, anyway. If she wants to talk to me, she can call my cell. I don’t know why she didn’t do that in the first place.”
“Because she wanted to wreak havoc on our lives.”
“Dr. Jane’s not wrong. Legally, Natasha has every right to talk to and see her son. And for his sake, I’m not opposed to that. But there needs to be a plan, and she will not speak to my son again until we have one in place. I won’t have her upsetting him anymore.”
We grow quiet. After a few minutes, I dip my toes into some very dangerous waters.
“Do you want to talk about what Ryder said?”
Olivia’s eyes find mine.
“Which part?”
“About me loving you.”
Her cheeks flush. I take my fingertip and let it gently trace her heated skin.
“No. It’s okay,” she says softly. “He’s just a little kid. He doesn’t understand.”
“I think he understands more than we realize. About a lot of things.”
Olivia gazes down at our entwined hands. “We’re just going to have to be more careful.”
“I think we have been careful. I just think my son sees that I’m happy for the first time in his life.”
Olivia smiles, and I gaze at her pink lips.
“Of course, I’d be happier if you’d let me kiss you.”
“Kisses aren’t allowed.”
“Just one?”
She snorts.
“We can’t do just one, and that’s why we can’t.”
I pretend to pout.
“I’m not sure I like these rules.”
“Get divorced. And then you can kiss me all the time.”
With a groan, I bury my face against her neck, hugging her tightly.
I know she’s right.
I hate that she’s right.
“I have to admit, I really like seeing your claws come out. Mama Bear is very, very hot.”
Olivia’s eyes narrow with the unfriendly reminder of my future ex-wife.
“Natasha better back off.”
I chuckle and hug her tight.
I see her sitting at the bar.
Her hair’s different. Maybe it’s longer.
She’s sipping what looks like a martini. I assume, anyway. It’s the only drink she ever ordered.
She looks the same.
She looks different.
It’s a very fine line.
My stomach clenches in dread as I make my way to the bar. Marcus warned me about talking to her without our attorneys present, but I want to try to keep this civil. The last thing I need is a long, drawn out custody battle. That’ll only delay the divorce, and it’s been delayed long enough.
This meeting with my wife has to go well, and that all depends on me. Me, and my ability to finesse. To compromise. To make concessions and agree to whatever she wants in order to put an end to this sham of a marriage.
That’s