Just My Luck (The Kings)

Abel returned home a fractured man.

He painted a small smile on his face and reassured the kids that his conversation with the police was not a big deal. The red marks around his wrists told me differently.

I knew deep down that his brave face was a facade to not scare my children, and while I deeply appreciated that, I couldn’t help but feel discouraged that he’d shut me out too.

If he looked at me one more time with sad eyes and said I’m fine, I was going to scream.

Over the next few days, Abel buried himself in work, leaving to check or recheck temperatures, filters, and pumps. We were living in his house without him, and his absence left my emotions feeling raw.

Frazzled, I jolted when my phone rang. Clutching my throat, I let out a relieved laugh at how jumpy I’d been lately. Recognizing my lawyer’s number, I painted a smile on my face and attempted to sound cheery. “Hello?”

“Sloane? Laura Michaels. Is now a good time?” I had learned to appreciate my lawyer’s directness. She had come highly recommended and was a respected family law attorney.

“Hey, Laura. Thanks.” I checked my watch. “It’s fine. What’s up?”

“A small update. We’ve submitted a statement disagreeing to each point in your ex-husband’s complaint on your behalf. We have also filed a counterclaim. The next step is a meeting with the friends of the court case manager. Given the past domestic nature of your relationship, those meetings will be held separately. Although it seems the plaintiff’s attorney has had some difficulty contacting their client.”

My mind raced back to finding the shower curtain open. I knew that just because Jared was quiet, it didn’t mean he was gone.

“I know Jared. He will put up a fight.” I hated knowing the truth in my words.

“I would assume so based on the aggressive nature of his complaint.” Her words were harsh, but honest. “I do have to tell you . . .”

My heart hammered. “What is it?”

“The complaint was well drafted and brings to light some very difficult issues, particularly the short nature of your relationship and the criminal history of your current spouse.”

The air swirled around me, and I was stunned into silence. This was supposed to be a slam dunk.

“If you stay with him,” she continued, “there is a very real possibility that your ex-husband will gain custody of the children, depending on the judge.”

The truth stabbed like a driven nail. My hands shook. “I can’t lose my children.” My voice cracked, and I was barely holding it together.

“We are doing everything we can to ensure that doesn’t happen. However, if we cannot mediate a custody and visitation agreement with the FOC, it will go in front of a judge, who will be forced to make a final ruling in what he or she believes is in the best interest of the children.”

My knees shook, and I sank to the floor. My voice was barely a whisper. “I understand.”

My attorney politely ended the call, and I stared into nothingness. I couldn’t seem to wrap my brain around the fact that I could accept a custody agreement that allowed my dangerous ex-husband access to our children or fight and risk losing them altogether.

It wasn’t only Jared using Abel’s conviction against him, just as he’d feared. It was a heartbreaking realization that his past was a brand that he would always wear. So few were willing to look past it to see the man he was—the man he had worked so hard to become.

Despair seeped into my bones until I was left with two impossible outcomes—I could end my marriage to the man I had fallen in love with, or risk the safety of my children.

“You’re quiet.” Sylvie’s voice was soft and concerned.

I pressed my lips together in a strained smile. “I’m sorry.”

My best friend’s arm wrapped around me as we sat on a blanket by the beach and watched our children play—hers on a towel in front of us and mine splashing in Lake Michigan with Abel and Duke. The men took turns growling and chasing the squealing twins and propping them on their shoulders for a game of chicken.

Sylvie’s head rested on my shoulder. She was so good at holding space for me. I could tell her everything or nothing, and she would understand. I looked across the sandy beach at her brother.

But how could I tell her this?

Sylvie had asked me to be careful with Abel’s heart. I’d learned just what she meant about the sensitive nature he tried so hard to keep hidden. It was one of the many reasons I’d fallen madly and completely in love with him.

Abel had been transformed from a sullen grump on the fringes of our town to frolicking on the beach with a Sullivan, playing a game of tag with my kids. He scooped Ben into his arms and swung him in a circle as his laugh rang out above the rolling waves.

Our love did that.

And one decision could completely destroy him.

“Any more news from the lawyers?” Sylvie’s attention was on Gus, so she didn’t see me swallow back the bile that had risen in my throat.

“Not much. I had my appointment with the friends of the court and gave them the rocky history of my relationship with Jared. We talked about how Abel and I met and fell for each other. I highlighted how well the kids are doing here—Tillie with her clubs and artwork and Ben making new friends and having less incidents with his anxiety. I told the woman how the children are in therapy and really bonding with Abel.” I shrugged. “She took a lot of notes.”NôvelDrama.Org owns this text.

“You’ve changed him, Sloane.” She gestured toward her brother. “I mean look at him. He’s a dad.”

Unshed tears stung my nose as I planted my tongue on the roof of my mouth and watched Abel be silly and play with the twins. I nodded and let out a watery laugh. “Yeah . . .” I swiped under my eyes. “Yeah, I guess he is.”

Duke walked up and plopped onto the blanket next to Sylvie, kicking up sand. “Sorry,” he offered before scooping Gus up and bouncing him on his lap. “Pretty soon I’ll be chasing you across the beach, huh, big guy?”

Gus babbled at his dad as I watched the scene unfold. Behind him, a group of women gestured toward our group with curious eyes and hushed whispers.

I jutted out my chin. “Looks like you and Abel have caused quite a stir.”

Duke didn’t bother looking behind him, but Sylvie laughed when she saw the group of women tittering and shielding hushed words behind their hands.

“If they think Duke and I getting together caused a stir”—she giggled—“you can imagine the gossip now that people think we’re all friends.”

Duke scoffed as though it was still an insult to be considered the friend of a King, and I smiled at him. “Aren’t you?”

He rolled his eyes and looked at Abel. “I guess.”

The tension fizzled as Sylvie and I laughed.

“Men are so dumb,” Sylvie joked. “Don’t think I don’t know about the text thread.”

I perked up. “Text thread?”

Sylvie grinned. “After the incident at the Grand Harbor Hotel, Lee started up a group chat. Someone even titled it Nemesis Nucleus.”

I chuckled. “Let me guess . . . Royal?”

The corner of Duke’s mouth twitched. “That man’s a fool. Reminds me too much of Lee.”

My heart squeezed. Perhaps if there was a world in which Kings and Sullivans were friends in Outtatowner, there was a way things could work out for me.

I shielded my eyes from the sun and watched Abel stand between my children, holding their hands as they walked toward us.

I’m not ready to let this go.