Unfinished Ex (Calloway Brothers, #2)(2)

After all, you’d think the end of my marriage would have arrived with more fanfare than a sixty-cent stamp.

I hold it and slump to the floor, my trusty friend ignoring the box of Milk-Bones on the foyer table. Heisman lies next to me and puts his head in my lap.

There are a million thoughts going through my head. But I only voice one of them. “Fuck.”

Heisman isn’t alarmed by my choice of words. I may not be the asshole that Tag is, or the grumpy daredevil that is our youngest brother, Cooper. But we all seem to have the same affliction when it comes to our vocabulary.

I turn the envelope over in my hand, wondering what my wife is doing. Did her envelope get delivered today? Is she thinking the same thing? That once we open them, that’s it, we’re done, it’s over. Or should I say I’m wondering what my ex-wife is doing? Ex-wife. The air whooshes out of my lungs as swiftly as if I’d been sucker punched. Any fragmented flame of hope has been doused. Pain closes in, its weight crushing and claustrophobic.

Five years down the drain. Well, fourteen if you count the nine years we dated before we got married, the three years we lived together as husband and wife, and the two after she left me before the divorce became finalized.

The front door opens and Tag walks in.

“Don’t you fucking knock?” I spit, well aware I’m not my usually sunny self.

He eyes me on the floor of the foyer and laughs. “I’d ask if your dog died, but I can see he’s lying here looking as pathetic as you are. Did you have a hard run or something?”

I don’t answer. I get up and throw the envelope on the table. Then I toss Heisman a Milk-Bone.

He doesn’t go after it. I retrieve it and hold it in front of his snout. “It’s okay, bud, take it.”

Reluctantly, he does. He walks to the corner of the living room and plops down, giving me one last glance before he devours it.

“Oh, shit!” Tag says jubilantly behind me.

I spin to see him holding the envelope.

“Is this what I think it is?” A smile splits his face. “You’re finally free of that lying, cheating bitch. We should celebrate.” He pulls out his phone. “I’ll have Cooper and Quinn meet us at Donovan’s. Eight o’clock?”

He wants me to celebrate. Double fuck.

His finger lingers over his phone. “Who else should we invite? Lucas? Eric?”

“No, man. Just us.”

“Got it. We’ll make it a family celebration first. We’ll organize something much bigger for your divorce party. It’ll be epic. Hey, now we have two parties to plan.”

“Two?”

“Your divorce celebration and my bachelor party.”

I blink twice, replaying his words. I knew he and Maddie moved in together last month. Still, I wasn’t expecting this. “You’re engaged?”

“Asked her yesterday.”

“Holy shit.” I can’t stop the motion of my head as it shakes back and forth. My brother, Tag Calloway, the guy voted in high school as most likely to never get married, is getting hitched. I push the jealousy down and try to be happy for him. I pat him on the back. “Congratulations, brother.

Tonight’s celebration should definitely be about you, not me.”

“We can kill two birds. Two fucking years you’ve waited, Jax. The tramp left you in limbo for twenty-four months. You’re finally free. That’s worth tossing back a few shots, don’t you think?”

Heisman and I lock eyes. He gets me. Even though he never met her, he sleeps in Nicky’s spot on the bed every night. He knows everything. He knows my secrets. He knows I was the one who dragged my feet on the divorce. He knows I hold just as much responsibility for ruining our marriage as she does. He knows that although I should hate her, I can’t.

How could I hate her when I still love her so goddamn much?

Tag’s phone vibrates. “Cooper’s in. And speaking of our homeless brother, maybe you should invite him to crash with you since it seems like he’ll be in town for a while.”

“He’s living in his van. His very expensive decked-out, solar-paneled van that has more conveniences than my first apartment.”

“Sheriff Niles issued him a ticket the other day when he parked overnight behind the bank.”

“That asshole. Niles, not Coop.”

“Maddie said he could park in the spare spot behind her shop, or maybe at the train station.

People leave cars there overnight all the time.”

“So why doesn’t he do one of those?”

He laughs. “Do you not know our brother? Danger has become his middle name. Rules—he breaks them. Guidelines—he doesn’t follow them. Laws—he thinks they don’t apply to him.”

“You’re worried about him.”

“Aren’t you?”

“Lots of people do what he does. He’s not the only crazy twenty-something who jumps off bridges and parachutes out of planes.”

“It’s more than that, and you know it. And surely it strikes you as odd that he didn’t do anything nearly this idiotic until after Chaz died.”

“You think he’s got some morbid desire to join our dead brother? I think he’s just found his passion. Plus, if you recall, Chaz died because they did something idiotic.”