He cheated i chose two firefighters novel Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Brennan’s POV

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Focus won’t come. I’ve taken a leave from work, cashed in a favor with our sister gym, and

arranged for two trainers to step in for Scar and me for the next month.

This morning I woke to a stack of missed calls from my mother. Her last voicemail said she was on her way over. That was ten minutes ago, which means she’s about to be here.

Sloane has been blowing up my phone too–apology after apology, like saying it enough times will change what she did. She swore she only set everything in motion to punish Scar

for leaving me, but I don’t buy it.

I told her not to contact me again.

I told her to tell Ever I loved her, but Uncle Brennan couldn’t see her anymore.

Sloane torched my marriage. There’s no world where I forgive her.

A hard, angry pounding on my front door yanked me out of my haze. I opened it–and my

mother came in swinging.

A belt. She was actually hitting me with a belt.

“Ma–Ma! Stop! Ow, stop, Ma!”

“I cannot believe you cheated on Scar with that trash next door,” she shouted, words cutting

sharper than the leather. “You got played. You walked right into that skank’s trap.”

“I know!” I bellowed back.

Her eyes went flint–hard. “Don’t you raise your voice at me, Brennan Callum Graysen.” The

belt snapped across me again..

“Ow! Will you stop? Mom–I’m sorry. I know I fucked up.”

“You sure did. And now my daughter–in–law is leaving.”

My stomach dropped. “What do you mean?”

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“I got off the phone with her about thirty minutes ago,” she said, breath tight with fury. “She was crying. Said she can’t stay in the same town as you. So she’s gone. Didn’t tell me

where. She told me to tell you to sign the papers–and I want you to do it right now. I’m

taking them to her attorney myself so they can file immediately. You owe her that.”

“I don’t want a divorce.”

“That stopped mattering the second you put your dick in another woman.”

“Jesus–can you not talk like that? I’ve never heard you say things like that.”

“Well I’ve never been this pissed off,” she snapped. “I’m disappointed in you.”

Something in me collapsed. My shoulders caved inward and the tears came without

permission. I sank onto the couch, elbows on my knees, face in my hands.

“Mama… what do I do? How do I fix it?”

She didn’t soften. Not really. “Brennan, you can’t fix this. All she can see now is betrayal.

You hurt her, son. All you can do is sign.”

I broke. Fully. She pulled me against her and I latched on like a kid, humiliated and wrecked.

I’d looked at a woman I thought was helpless, and she’d worked me like a fool until I lost

myself–and the woman I loved.

“I don’t know if I can,” I choked out. “She’s my life.”

“Then you should’ve treated her like she was,” my mother said, voice rough with truth.

“Sign. Take time. Get your head straight. If it’s meant to be, you can win her back.”

I lifted my gaze and nodded once.

I went for the documents. I read them again, slower this time. Scar wasn’t asking for

anything beyond her personal account and half the joint account.

When I reached the final page, my hand shook as I signed. Drops hit the paper, smearing

the ink in places.

I walked the pages back to my mother and put them in her hands.

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“I’ll get her back, Mama.”

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“I hope you do,” she said, and for the first time there was something like sadness under the

anger. “Because you won’t find another woman like her. She’s sweet. Helpful. Beautiful.

And that girl can cook. I don’t know if you ever paid attention, but men noticed her–always.

Their eyes followed her. Her laugh pulled them in like honey. Every outing we went on, I saw it. She makes friends like it’s breathing.”

My jaw clenched. “Are you trying to rub it in?”

“Yes,” she said, unflinching. “Because what you’re feeling right now is nothing next to what

Scar has been living through for six months. And then she opens her phone and sees proof

of her husband cheating? I know that ripped her to pieces.”

I swallowed hard. “Jesus. You’re right.”

She turned toward the door. “I’m going to her lawyer now. Fix yourself before you go

chasing her, son–because I know you’re going to try.”

“I don’t even know where she went,” I said.

“Then use your brain when it’s time,” she threw back over her shoulder. “Figure it out.”

And then she was gone.

I tried Scar again anyway. Straight to nothing. Blocked.

A knock sounded at my door.

When I opened it, Ever stood there, small and serious, eyes too big for her face.

“Hi Uncle Brennan,” she said softly. “Mommy said you don’t like me anymore. Why?”

Rage went white–hot.

That fucking bitch.

How dare she drag this child into it.

I crouched down so I was level with Ever. “Honey, I never said that. Your mommy’s lying. I

love you. You’re my special girl–always. It’s just… I need to take a vacation. I’m going to be

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gone a little while. I told your mommy I wouldn’t be around.”

Her brow pinched. “So you still like me?”

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“Of course I do,” I said, forcing my voice gentle. “Where’s your mommy, sweetheart?”

“At home.”

I took Ever’s hand and walked her back across to her house. I wasn’t going to yell at a kid,

but her mother and I were about to have words.

Inside, I guided Ever toward the hallway. “Eve, honey–go to your room and draw me a picture. I need something to take with me on vacation so I can look at it and smile.”

“Oh! Okay!” she squealed, and she bolted away.

Precious kid. Innocent.

I scanned the kitchen. No Sloane. I moved down the hall, checked the first doorway–hall

bathroom, empty. Second room–Ever’s.

The last door opened to the master bedroom. Just like my place, it had a master bath. I

heard water running.

The bathroom door was cracked.

I stepped closer and peered through.

Then I shoved the door open and rushed in.

Sloane was in the tub, water still pouring. I couldn’t tell if she’d slipped or what at first–until

I saw the blood swirling through the water.

I grabbed her, hauling her up, and that’s when I saw it: her wrist. Slit.

“Fuck!” I shouted.

I got her out and onto the floor. My hands moved on instinct. I snatched a towel, wrapped it

tight around her wrist, and pressed down hard.

My phone came out of my pocket and I dialed 911.

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The ambulance arrived in five minutes. Police followed. I gave my statement while holding

Ever, who’d ended up in my arms with her face buried against me.

We trailed the ambulance to the hospital.

Ever looked up at me, trembling. “Is my mommy going to be okay?”

“They’re going to do everything they can, sweetheart,” I told her.

I had to believe it.

They put us in the waiting room. I got food from the cafeteria–something for Ever,

something for me that I barely touched. Hours passed.

Finally a doctor came out.

“Are you family of Sloane Wynthor?”

“Yes,” I said, lying.

“She’s stable and awake,” he continued. “She keeps asking for her daughter. Is this her?”

“Yes.”

“We stitched up her arm. No damage besides the laceration,” he said, too blunt, like he was reading a report. “It wasn’t as deep as we feared on arrival. She’s lucky she cut horizontally. If she’d gone vertically, we’d probably be discussing funeral arrangements.”

I stared at him, disgusted. The man had no bedside manner at all.

“She’s on the third floor,” he finished. “Room 320.”

“Thank you,” I said tightly.

I took Ever up to see her.

When we stepped into the room, Sloane was flat on the bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling like

she was looking for an escape route.

“Mommy!” Ever cried, running to the bedside.

Sloane’s face crumpled. “Oh, Eve. I’m so sorry, baby.” She pulled her close.

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I stood there watching, sick to my stomach.

Sloane looked over Ever’s head at me. “Thank you, Brennan.”

I held her gaze. “Why, Sloane?”

Her voice shook. “I couldn’t handle you hating me.”

“So you do this?” I snapped. “What about Eve?”

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Sloane swallowed. “Eve, honey… can you go lie down on that couch over there?”

Ever hesitated, then climbed onto the couch.

When she settled, Sloane’s eyes latched back onto mine. “Brennan, I love you. I want us.”

“I’m married,” I said.

“She left you,” Sloane insisted. “We can be together now.”

“No.” My voice went flat. “I’m getting her back.” She didn’t need to know I’d already signed

the divorce papers.

Sloane’s mouth tightened. “No, Brennan. I made sure you couldn’t. She’ll never forgive you.”

“You’re wrong.”

I turned and walked out while she called my name, louder and louder.

I needed distance from her. I needed to fix myself first–then I was going after my wife.

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