War (Boston Bolts Hockey #3)

49. Tyler

FORTY-NINE

TYLER

The sound of Scarlett calling for her mama from her bed guts me. I’ve been up for most of the night, lying in our bed, trying to figure out how the hell I’m going to get through this day. Hoping that Ava’s okay. Beckett texted to tell me he found her and that he brought her to Hannah’s, but I can’t help but worry that she’s still bottling everything up. Hiding her emotions from everyone.

I scrub a hand down my face. Fuck. I can’t avoid the inevitable any longer. Rubbing at the tattoo around my ring finger, I take a deep breath, then another. This symbol only solidifies that this woman is out of her mind if she thinks I could ever move on from her. Even when I thought this was a necessary arrangement, I was crazy enough about her to ink her name and our wedding date on my skin. She’s my endgame, whether she believes it or not.

But I have to make it through this hearing before I can fight for my wife.

An hour later Scarlett is snuggled on the couch with Maria—thank god for her—Josie is ready for school, and Brayden is already on the bus.

“Ava will take me to dance tonight, right?” Josie has asked for Ava no less than five times since she walked down the steps to have breakfast and didn’t find her here .

I don’t want to lie, but what the hell do I tell her? That I don’t think Ava will be home tonight? That’ll destroy her. I have to remain focused on the hearing for now. Then I’ll fix the rest.

“I’m not sure, fighter. But if she can’t, either Maria will take you or I will. You know how we roll. Someone will always be here.”

Josie eyes me in that way that tells me she’s not buying my bullshit, but the sound of a car door slamming outside has her swiveling her head, causing her braids to whip against her face. “Who’s here? Is that Ava?”

I rub at the ache in my chest. The way she keeps asking for her is breaking my heart.

“No idea.” I head for the door. When I spot Brooks’s oversized blue truck and Gavin’s dad-mobile—it’s really just a van, but we love to tease him about it—my lips tick up at one corner.

One by one, my best friends file out of the cars. It’s like a circus. The people just keep coming. First it’s Brooks and Sara. Then Daniel, Aiden, and Lennox climb out of the back.

Gavin pops out of his van and Fitz slips out of the passenger seat. Next, the sliding back door opens, and Gavin helps Millie, who’s carrying a bundled up Vivi, climb out.

I step outside and stuff my hands into my pockets because it’s damn cold out here. “What’s going on?”

Brooks raises his brows like I’m an idiot. “The girls are here to take Josie to school, Millie and Vivi are here to hang out with Scarlett, and we’re here to take you to court.”

“But how—” I shake my head and close my eyes. How did they know I needed them? Like in this exact moment. Because I really fucking did. Two more seconds of Josie’s eyes pleading for Ava and I might just have cracked wide open and fallen to the floor.

“Ava asked us to come,” Sara says softly.

I swallow, the ache in my chest only intensifying. “Is she?—”

Sara squeezes my arm. “Not yet. But she’ll be okay. I can’t believe none of us knew what she was going through all this time.”

My heart stumbles. She told them? That makes me feel a modicum better. If I can’t be there for her, I’m glad she has her friends.

“Okay, Ms. Josie,” Lennox says, brushing past me, though she does give my shoulder a pat as she goes. “You have a date with Sara and me. What do you say we stop at Starbucks on the way to school for a pink drink and one of those cake pops?”

“It’s eight a.m.,” I grumble.

Lennox whips her head around, pink hair flying, and hits me with a glare. Apparently even being left by my wife won’t save me from her attitude. “It’s never too early for pink.”

Aiden chuckles as he pulls me in for a bear hug. “Come on, I want to stop for a cake pop too. The ones with the little dogs on them are my favorite.”

“They only have those at the Starbucks inside Target,” Sara tells him.

“Oh my god, I love Starbucks in Target. Shopping and pink drinks. Can you think of anything better?” Lennox is already holding Josie’s coat, waving it around in a silent request for her to hurry.

“Do they ever breathe?” I mutter to Brooks.

He shakes his head, but he’s wearing a dopey smile. “Nope. But he’s right. Go say goodbye to Scarlett so we can stop for coffee. You look like shit.”

I chuff out a laugh. “Thanks.”

When we pull up to the courthouse, I almost expect to see the press sitting outside, cameras and microphones at the ready, fighting for quotes and soundbites for articles called “Liar Exposed” and other equally shameful titles.

Fortunately, despite the roller coaster I’ve been on for the last twenty-four hours, life isn’t that dramatic.

Or maybe I’m not as big a deal as the Langfields.

Either way, it still feels as if all eyes are on me, weighing me, judging me.

He doesn’t deserve to be a father. He’s not worth the court’s time. Told you he’d screw this up.

In reality, these people don’t know me or my situation. More than likely, they’re wondering why most of the Boston Bolts’ first line is in family court today.

“Oh, thank god,” Madi mutters when we step into the lobby. “I was nervous you wouldn’t show up.”

Frowning, I give her the side-eye. “This is the most important hearing I’ll ever attend. How could I not show up?”

She sighs. “I don’t know. People do strange things when they think they’ll lose a child.”

Given her history, I can understand her thought process. “I’m here. No running.”

“And your wife?” She tilts her head and peers past me, as if my petite wife with the long, beautiful red hair is hiding amongst a group of hockey players.

I clear my throat. “Uh. She’s not coming.”

Nodding, Madi looks at me. Or maybe she’s looking through me, coming up with a plan. I’m glad one of us has all their faculties, because I have no fucking idea what to do.

“Okay,” she sighs. “Let’s go in there. Remember, unless the judge asks you a question directly, don’t speak.” I take an exasperated breath. I’m not an idiot. “And no eye rolling,” she adds.

I guess I did that as well, if the way she’s glaring at me is any indication.

“No shaking your head, no mouthing of words. Just sit still, palms together on the desk, and let me do all the talking.”

“You got it.”

I absolutely cannot listen to a word of advice my attorney gave me moments before we stepped into the courtroom. Not when the judge goes off on a tangent about the concerning text messages she’s received .

“I find it extremely concerning that one of the petitioners was sending messages of this nature to someone who is deceased?—”

Even as Madi places a hand over mine, which is balled into a tight fist on the table, to keep me seated, I stand and clear my throat.

“Excuse me, your honor, but I can’t sit here and let you talk about my wife like that.” The judge’s surprised glare and the overall whoosh of air the collective room sucks in doesn’t stop me. “Respectfully, you have no idea what you’re talking about. My wife is too good. So incredible, in fact, that it’s hard for her to let go of the woman she was literally created to save. Can you imagine that? She was brought into this world for the sole purpose of saving her sister.

“And that’s exactly who Ava is. She cares so much for the people she loves. She’d do anything for us. And now we’re sitting here , judging her , for caring so deeply. As if it’s too much. But is there such a thing?”

The older woman on the bench gapes at me, as if I’ve stunned her. Actually, I think the entire room is watching me in either wide-eyed horror or wonder.

“All because some faceless person has weaponized what was essentially her only connection to the person who, for years, meant everything to her.” Arms spread wide, I continue. My voice is too loud, but I don’t care. “My mom died when I was twelve. Do you know what I do when I miss her? I talk to the sky.Would you judge me for that?”

Her head tilts and I take that as her acceptance.

“Exactly. Of course you wouldn’t. Because collectively we’ve all agreed it’s acceptable to believe that our loved ones are looking down on us. Others visit the grave of the person they miss and spill their secrets there. They can rant and rave, and that’s normal. My wife texts her sister’s number.” I shake my head. “My wife is a smart woman. She knows her sister isn’t holding a cell phone behind a pearly set of gates. It’s just her way of working through her thoughts and emotions. Who are we to judge that?” I pound my fist against my chest. “Who are we to judge the way a person cares?”

“I am the judge,” the woman says, though her tone isn’t rude or combative. She honestly looks baffled. As if she doesn’t know what to make of my outburst .

I don’t blame her.

Madi stands at my side and appears ready to speak, but the judge glares at her, so she sits back down.

“I know you’re the judge. I know it’s up to you whether Josie stays with us. And I can assure you that is all my wife and I care about. So I’m here to beg you. No, I’m here to tell you, there isn’t another person in existence who could be a better mother to Josie than my wife.”

“You keep calling her your wife, but these messages indicate that your marriage isn’t real.”

“I assure you it’s as real a marriage as that of any person who pledges their life to another in this courtroom. Did we have a contract? Yes. Do I love my wife? Yes. I love my wife more than I ever imagined possible. Did I the day I married her? Also yes. I didn’t know her well enough to love her the way I do now, but I loved the way she loved my little girl and the way she never let me get away with anything. I loved the way she’d get red when I pissed her off. My love for her may look different now, but our marriage has been based on love since day one. It was based on our shared love for a little girl who we would do anything to care for and protect and make happy. So much so that we pledged to stay together, no matter what, to raise our kids.”

“Until your youngest is eighteen,” she points out, holding a sheet of paper in front of her.

Probably the post-nuptial agreement Madi had us sign, which details what would happen should we separate.

“What’s the issue there? In most marriages, two people pledge their lives to one another without considering what will happen to any future children if they divorce. What happens then? A long, drawn-out fight? How is that in a child’s best interest?”

The judge almost appears to hold back a smirk at my response.

“Ava and I made a plan so that our kids would be in a safe, happy household until they’re adults.” I point at the paper. “That contract protects them. Isn’t that what parents do? Isn’t that what you’re charged with determining? Whether we’ll put them first? You can guarantee we will. Josie and her siblings will always be our first priority. That contract guarantees that. ”

“I understand your devotion, Mr. Warren. But it started with a lie to the court.”

“Where is the lie?” I bellow, my body temperature ratcheting up several degrees. Fuck. I wish I could tear my tie and suit jacket off. “Everything we’ve told you is the truth.” I hold up my fist and lift a finger as I count off each truth. “We’re married. Truth. We love Josie. Truth . She’ll always come first. Truth. She’ll always have a home with us. Both of us. We’ll raise her together, no matter what. Where is the lie?” I’m breathless by the time I’ve finished my tirade, desperate to make her see our side in this. To see Josie’s side. Because truly they are one and the same.

Frowning, she studies me, as if actually considering my argument. “That’s all well and good, Mr. Warren. And maybe you’ll get your way. But you’re the only one here. Why is that? Where is this wife who cares so much?”

My heart pounds as I garner my energy to go another round to defend Ava. She’s broken, but I know that, if given the chance, she’ll pick herself up and be here for our girl. I just need to fight a little more today so she can have that chance.

“I’m right here.”

My head swings around, and when my eyes take in the woman I’ve pledged my life to, all the adrenaline drains from me, and my whole body sags in relief.

I’m right here. Three words have never sounded so beautiful.

She showed up.

Every head turns toward the back of the room where Ava is now scooting past Beckett, who’s sitting in the last row. He shoots me a wink.

With a quick nod at him, I zero in on my wife as she approaches. Green eyes swimming with apology and tears meet mine, and she offers me a shaky wave and a smile. Then she steadies her breath and steps through the gate that separates us from the gallery.

“I’m sorry, your honor. I didn’t want to interrupt court once you started, but I’ve been here the whole time, sitting in the back.” She turns and nods at Beckett. “Though I know I owe the court an apology for how I’ve handled this, I stand by everything my husband said.” She reaches over and brushes her pinky against mine, as if she’s nervous.

I can hear her words, can feel the promises she’s back to fulfilling. Her pinky promises.

Without hesitation, I grasp her hand and squeeze, my chest tight with emotion. As I clutch her hand like it’s my lifeline, my head falls and a sob slips out.

She showed up. My vicious wife came back to fight with me.

To fight for me and our family.