It's Not Over Read online

  It’s Not Over

  Kaylee Ryan

  Lacey Black

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Epilogue

  Thank you

  More from Lacey Black

  More from Kaylee Ryan

  Acknowledgments

  Copyright © 2019 Kaylee Ryan

  Copyright © 2019 Lacey Black

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  All Rights Reserved.

  This book may not be reproduced in any manner whatsoever without the written permission of Kaylee Ryan, or Lacey Black, except for the use of brief quotations in articles and or reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, events, locations, businesses and plot are products of the author’s imagination and meant to be used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events throughout the story are purely coincidental. The author acknowledges trademark owners and trademarked status of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication and use of these trademarks are not authorized, sponsored or associated by or with the trademark owners.

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  The following story contains sexual situations and strong language. It is intended for adult readers.

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  Cover Design: Sommer Stein, Perfect Pear Creative Covers

  Cover Photography: Sara Eirew

  Models: Alex and Karina Boivin

  Editing: Hot Tree Editing

  Proofreading: Deaton Author Services &

  Kara Hildebrand

  Created with Vellum

  Chapter 1

  Harrison

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  I left the office early today. I couldn’t focus. Not that it did me any good. I didn’t want to go home either. Not to an empty, lifeless apartment. I have a queen-sized bed, a dresser, and a recliner. Pathetic I know, but when I leased the place, I didn’t think it would be permanent. When my wife said we needed a break, I thought I would be there for a week or two, and then I would be moving home. I thought I was doing the right thing by giving her the space she asked for. Little did I know that day changed the course of our future. Here we are almost nine months later, and not only am I not living in the house we bought together, but I’m also less than twenty-four hours from the court hearing that will separate us in the eyes of the law.

  I’m hours away from divorcing the love of my life.

  How did we get here?

  I wish I knew.

  I wish that there was a defining moment in our marriage that got us to this point. Unfortunately, I don’t have the answers. We’ve talked about it, been to marriage counseling. We tried. We fought for our love, for the vows that we shared, but in the end, we couldn’t make it work. It seemed like nothing I did those last few years made her happy. Everything I did, hell everything I do, it’s with her in mind.

  For our future.

  The one that no longer exists.

  So, yeah, I didn’t want to go home to a lonely, empty apartment. Instead, I came here, to the local pub on Main, Twist of Lime. It’s a small hole-in-the-wall joint. Winnie, that’s my wife or soon-to-be ex-wife—that’s going to take some getting used to—anyway, Winnie and I used to come here when we first got married. We had date nights. She’d dress up, and I would bring her here. Maybe that’s why our marriage failed. I want to blame it on that, but I know better. Winnie loved this place. It’s very low-key, and their wings are the best in town.

  Sure, being here is like taking a knife to the chest, but so is that reminder on my calendar for tomorrow. The one that reminds me I’m going home alone tonight and every night moving forward. I just can’t picture myself with anyone but her.

  “Can I get you another, Harrison?” Cliff, the bartender, asks me.

  “No.” I raise my half-empty glass. “Still working on this one.”

  “You’ve been here for over two hours, and that’s still your first. Let me get you a fresh one.” Before I can tell him not to bother, he whisks my mug away and replaces it with a new frosty one.

  “Thanks,” I mumble. I really am torturing myself by being here, I wasn’t exaggerating, but I can’t seem to make myself get off this stool and go home. Maybe that’s the problem. It’s not home.

  Home is with my wife.

  My soon-to-be ex-wife.

  “Thought I might find you here.”

  I don’t bother to turn my head to see who it is. I would recognize that voice anywhere. My best friend, Chase. We met in college, around the same time Winnie and I met. He works for me now. I should have known that when he couldn’t find me at the office, he would come looking for me.

  “You found me,” I say, taking a large swig of my new ice-cold beer.

  “Why are you doing this to yourself, Harrison?” he asks, holding up his finger to get the bartender’s attention. “Bottle of water,” he orders.

  “You’re going to let me drink alone?”

  “Someone has to drag your drunk ass home,” he counters.

  “I’ve been here two hours and haven’t managed to finish one beer.” He raises his eyebrows and looks at the fresh frosty mug in front of me. “Cliff felt sorry for me drinking warm beer,” I explain.

  “Here you go. He’s right, you know. Barely drank any of the first. He’s obviously got a lot on his mind and drinking piss-warm beer is not going to help.” Cliff taps the counter twice and heads to the other end of the bar to wait on another customer.

  “Look, man, you gave it all you had, and it just didn’t work. These things happen. You have to stand up, dust yourself off, and move on,” Chase rambles in my ear.

  See, my best friend likes to play the field. I’ve never seen him with the same woman twice. That’s just not his style.

  “I told you not to marry her,” he smarts.

  Turning in my stool, I give him a menacing look. The same one I gave him in college when he told me that exact thing. “Fuck you,” I seethe. “You have no right to talk about my wife like that.”

  “Your ex-wife,” he challenges.

  “One of these days, my man, you are going to fall ass over elbows and I’m going to sit back and enjoy the show.”

  “Not happening. You think I want to be here?” He points to where I sit on the barstool, drowning my sorrows in draft beer. “No thanks. I’d rather have new pussy as often as I want than to be miserably tied to one.”

  “That’s just it. We weren’t always miserable.” It’s true. Winnie and I were inseparable from our first date. After college, getting married was what we both wanted. It’s after we said “I do,” that things start to get foggy. I can’t pinpoint what it was, a particular day or argument that led us here. What I do know is that tomorrow she’s no longer my Winnie, and fuck me, but I’m not okay with that.

  “No,” he agrees. “Not in the beginning, but people change. They grow apart. It’s done, Harrison, you can’t change it. Even if you were contesting, which I know you’re not, the judge can still grant the divorce. It’s over, buddy. The sooner you accept that, the sooner you can move on with your life.”

  “Yeah.” I know he’s right, but I hate it. I hate that this is what we’ve come to. That the woman I love, with everything I am—
we’re talking deep in my soul, can never love another—is no longer going to be mine. There’s a chance she’ll even change her name back, and fuck, that’s going to wreck me.

  I’ve been through our marriage time and time again.

  What did I do wrong?

  What did she do wrong?

  Where did we go wrong?

  I let work take over my life. I let my focus drift to building for our future, for the family we one day hoped to have. Working six and seven days a week, ten- and fourteen-hour days to make it work. One day I came home, and we just… weren’t the same. I got caught up in work and let the love of my life feel as though she was anything but.

  I tried to fix it, but the business was still there, still needing my attention and in the end, it wasn’t enough.

  I wasn’t enough.

  I tried to cut back on my hours, but we were opening a second location, and I’m the owner. I had to be there. Even when I wasn’t, my phone was blowing up and our time, the time we were using to find our way back to one another, was interrupted. She told me we needed space.

  I did it for us, for the family we dreamed of, but I couldn’t make her see that. Looking back, I didn’t try hard enough. I heard what she was telling me, but I didn’t listen, if that makes any sense. I half-assed the attention I gave her. I failed her, and this is my punishment.

  Losing her.

  “I’m heading out.” I pull some cash out of my wallet and drop it on the bar. Cliff nods that he sees me.

  “You want some company?” Chase asks.

  “Nah, I’m good.”

  “I’ll call you,” he adds.

  I lift my hand to wave, not bothering to turn around, and walk out of the bar. Climbing behind the wheel of my truck, I fight back against the vise that seems to be gripping my chest. On impulse, I pull my phone out of my pocket and dial her number. It rings three times before she finally answers.

  “Harrison.” Her sweet voice washes over me.

  “Winnie.” Fuck me. I want to beg her to stop this. To change her mind. I want to go back nine months before I moved out, giving her the space she asked for. I should have stayed and fought for her. I should have fought harder for us.

  “You there?”

  “Yeah, I uh, just wanted to check on you. Hear your voice.”

  “Harrison.” She sighs. “We can’t keep doing this to each other.”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you too,” she says softly.

  “We can fix this, Win, I know we can.”

  “We’ve tried. We gave it our all and couldn’t make it work.”

  “We can try harder,” I growl, my anger at losing her getting the best of me.

  “I should go,” she says, shutting down.

  “I’m sorry, but fuck, Gwendolyn, you’re my fucking heart. I don’t know what to do without you.”

  I hear her sniffle; I’ve gone and upset her. “Please,” she cries. “We have to stop doing this to each other. It’s over, Harrison.” The line goes dead. Balling my hand into a fist, I pound at the center of my chest to try and mask the pain. Swallowing back my emotions, I put my truck in drive and head to my empty, lonely apartment.

  I slept like shit, barely falling into a slumber before my alarm was going off, reminding me that today is the day. The day the love of my life is no longer my wife. Rushing through a shower, I throw on a suit—something I have not done since our wedding day, ironically enough—and head to the courthouse.

  I arrive a few minutes early, meeting my lawyer, Greg, in the lobby.

  “Good morning.” He holds his hand out in greeting.

  I take it. “Morning.”

  “So, since neither of you are contesting, this is going to be a quick process. Just you and me, Gwendolyn, and her lawyer, the judge, and bailiff. We should be in and out in no time.”

  “Yeah.” I follow him into a small room, which is not what I was expecting. Winnie and her lawyer are sitting on the opposite side of the table. “Hey,” I say, my eyes taking her in. She really is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. Today, her long black hair is pulled back in a ponytail exposing her slender neck. The same neck I’ve spent hours kissing. Worshiping really.

  “Hey, Harrison,” she replies. Sadness fills her green eyes.

  I take the seat next to my lawyer and we wait for the judge. Awkward silence surrounds us, and I hate it. This isn’t us. We used to talk about everything and nothing at all. A few minutes pass, and finally, the judge enters the room taking her seat at the head of the table. She begins sifting through the papers and then finally looks up.

  “Everything is in order. The alimony amount has been signed by both parties, assets have been divided.”

  What she should say is that Winnie gets it all. I told her I didn’t want anything. Well, except for pictures, which she already made me copies of. Other than my clothes, I didn’t want anything to remind me of the failure I was at our marriage.

  “Do we have any objections from either party?” she asks.

  “No, your honor,” we reply at the same time.

  “All right, looks like the only information I’m missing is from you, Gwendolyn. Do you plan on keeping your married name? If not, now is the time to change that.”

  My eyes snap to Winnie. She’s biting down on her bottom lip and tears well in her eyes. I have to grip the edge of the table to keep from rushing to her. I always hated to see her upset.

  When she looks up, she gives me a soft, sad smile. “I’d like to remain Gwendolyn Drake, your honor,” she says, never taking her eyes off me.

  Fuck! I’ve never wanted to pull her into my arms and kiss the hell out of her more than I do this minute.

  “Very well,” the judge says. She signs her name on the papers, the same ones we signed a few weeks ago. “As of today, your divorce is final. Best of luck to both of you.” She stands and leaves the room as if we were discussing the weather.

  “It’s been a pleasure.” Greg holds his hand out for me to shake. On autopilot, I take it. He turns and walks out of the room, but I stay back. Waiting on her. I hear her lawyer ask if she wants her to stay and she tells her to go on.

  “Hey,” I say when it’s finally just the two of us.

  “Hey.”

  We walk toward the door, and I rest my hand on the small of her back. I miss her so fucking much. “You going to work today?”

  “No. You probably need to get going though.” She looks at her watch checking the time.

  “I’m not going either,” I tell her, and I can see the shock on her face. “I’d be useless anyway.”

  She nods. “I have some of your things. I was cleaning and found a few shirts, a pair of shorts. You can stop and pick them up if you want.”

  It’s been two months, give or take a few days, since I’ve been there. The house we bought with big plans of making it our home, of raising our kids there. “Yeah, I can follow you if that’s okay.”

  “Sure.” She hesitates. “I guess I’ll see you soon.”

  “See you soon.” I open the door of her SUV and wait for her to climb in before closing it. I jog back to my truck and follow her home.

  To her home.

  It’s no longer mine.

  I park beside her on the driveway just like I used to, and climb out. She’s waiting for me on the front porch. I watch as her hand shakes when she tries to unlock the door.

  “Let me,” I say gently, snaking my arms around her, and placing my hands over hers. A sob breaks free from her chest and that loud crack you hear, that’s my heart. I didn’t think it was possible for it to be any more broken.

  I was wrong.

  Instead of pulling the key from her hand and unlocking the door, I turn her in my arms and hold her tightly against my chest. I’m battling with my own emotions, not only from seeing her like this, but from losing her. I don’t know how much time passes while we hold each other. It’s when a car honks as they drive by that I decide it’s time for us to move i
nside.

  “Let’s get you into the house,” I whisper. Stepping back, she hands me the key, but I snake my arm around her waist and hold her close to me. This might be my last chance to hold her, and you can bet your ass I’m taking it. Quickly, I unlock the door and usher her inside. I drop the keys on the hall table and kick the door shut with my foot. Stepping in front of her, I cup her face in my hands. “You okay?”

  She shakes her head. “I will be,” she says.

  “You kept my name,” I whisper, leaning in a little closer.

  “Yeah, I just—” She looks down for three heartbeats. I know because I counted them before she gives me her sad eyes. “I wanted to keep a piece of you, a piece of us.”

  “Winnie,” I whisper as my lips collide with hers. She’s hesitant at first, but eventually throws caution to the wind and kisses me back. Placing my hands on the back of her thighs, I lift her, and she immediately wraps her legs around my waist. We’ve done this song and dance so many times. We move in sync with one another, something that comes from years of intimacy. My tongue slides against hers, exploring her, tasting her again after all these months. When she grinds her hips against my hard cock, I moan, resting my forehead against hers.

  “Winnie,” I pant.

  “Just this once,” she murmurs.

  That’s all I need to hear and my feet are moving. She places her mouth over mine and we barely make it down the hall and to our room—

  —her room, before we’re ripping each other’s clothes off.

  Chapter 2

  Winnie

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