He shook his head then swallowed the last of the amber liquid in his glass. "And if we can't find the proof of my innocence? Then I just go to jail for ten years. Maybe more?"

  "That's a risk we'd be taking," Andrew admitted, his tone heavy. "It's a really shitty risk."

  Grant walked over to the liquor cabinet and pulled out the sole bottle of whiskey, pouring himself another glass. This was what Simone had been talking about—him running and hiding from his problems. By not talking to her about them, he'd been trying to hide, act like they didn't even exist, like everything was fine.

  He hated that he'd lied to her. Every day that went by that he didn't tell her, it felt like his problems were further and further away. She made him so happy, feel so free. She made him forget. But she was right—he should have told her. He should have invited her into his whole life—the good and the bad.

  "I don't know if I can trust the system not to fuck me over, Andrew," Grant replied. "They haven't found anything so far. I am literally still looking at serious jail time."

  "Mercer, I promise you that I'm doing everything I can on my end to find your ex-wife and prove her involvement here, but I can't guarantee that I'm going to be successful. All I can tell you is that I'm going to never give up until you're free—on paper and in person."

  Grant nodded his head, sipping at his second glass. "I know, Andrew. I know you're doing your best. But…you're right. It's time to stop running. It's time to stop hiding."

  "What are you saying?"

  He took a deep breath, slowly expelling it from his lungs. "Double the pay for the private investigators and ask them to double their hours. Do anything we can to light a fire under their asses. Then, book me a flight to New Zealand."

  "Are you sure about this?"

  He wasn't sure about anything right now, but all he did know was that he was tired of embezzlement charges hanging over his head. He could spend the rest of his life running, or he could face it head-on and hope that justice would prevail.

  "I'm sure," he replied.

  He didn't know what this meant for him and Simone, but he knew that they didn't have a chance at anything if he was always running from his past. If he wanted to truly beg her forgiveness, if he wanted to truly prove to her that he was ready to start fresh with her and leave the past behind them, then he needed to do exactly what she'd said. He needed to deal with his situation.

  "You've got it, Mercer. I'll be there when you land. We're going to fight this. We're going to fight like hell."

  Grant had no doubt that his lawyer would be by him every step of the way. "Thanks, man. Things are about to get rough."

  He just hoped he was strong enough to handle it.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  "You just left?" Teagan's eyes widened from across the breakfast bar in her high-in-the-sky New York apartment. "Like, permanently?"

  "I don't know," Simone admitted. "I didn't really think that far ahead."

  After having moped around on her sister’s couch for several days, Teagan had finally forced her to explain what had been going on between her and Grant. She’d been reluctant to share at first because she didn’t want to tell them about Grant’s legal troubles, but Teagan had refused to let her stay silent about it for another moment.

  Teagan leaned back in her seat, shaking her head. "Shit. That's a lot to deal with. I don't even know how he kept that from you, honestly. How does he ever plan on going home? Or is New Zealand just off limits for the rest of his life? Can't they force him to come back?"

  She shrugged, because honestly, she had no clue. New Zealand law enforcement wasn't really her specialty, and it was certainly an odd situation. "I have no idea what his plans are. All I know is that I'm not going to be a part of it."

  "Do you really think that's fair, though?" Teagan chewed on the edge of her lip for a moment, then swirled her spoon around in her cup of tea. "I mean, you two are together, right?"

  "We are. Or we were." She really didn't know what they were.

  "Then you go through these trials and tribulations together. You support one another through the hard times."

  Teagan had a point, but Simone didn't think it really applied here. "Sure, if you're both on the same page and walking in eyes open. He may never have even told me about this if his ex-wife hadn't. She told me he was probably using me for my image or my money."

  Her sister shook her head. "I honestly don't see that being the case. Not with Grant. He really doesn't seem the type. And he's getting paid any day, if not already, for Kiss Me, Kate. Plus, he's got the London project. The man has money."

  That part was definitely true. Even if he had nothing at the moment, there was no doubt he had a few large paychecks coming in soon. He was still one of the best in his field, and that didn't come at a small price tag.

  "So, then what? Why not tell me?"

  Teagan shrugged this time. "Embarrassment? Protecting his own image? Being a stupid man like the rest of them?"

  "I can't handle liars, Teag." Simone shook her head. Whether he was using her or lying to her, neither option seemed good. "What else don't I know?"

  "That's fair," her sister admitted. "Lying is…it's toxic. It erodes trust, and now you're left wondering whether you can trust anything he says or has said."

  "Exactly."

  "But…I don't know, Simmy. It just seems like leaving is a pretty dramatic response." Teagan took another sip of her tea. "Relationships are hard. People fight. People lie. People forgive."

  "We've barely just started our relationship, though. Who's to say this isn't a sign of what's to come? Who's to say that he doesn't plan on lying about more things in the future?"

  "That's the risk that comes in every relationship," Teagan replied, leaning forward and rubbing the top of Simone's palm. "There's always a risk of being hurt, of the bond being broken. But think about the Grant you know—the man you know. Can you trust him? Can you feel that innate sense of who he is?"

  Simone swallowed hard, thinking back to every moment she'd spent with Grant. All the sleepless nights curled around each other in bed, the whispered stories and truths shared in pillow talk, the fun adventures and new experiences handled head on, hand-in-hand. Despite the pull of fear yanking at her heart, she did know him. She did know that he was a good man at his core. She still didn't understand why he'd lied, but she knew from the dozens of apology texts and voicemails on her phone right now that he was sorry. He did care.

  If it came to believing him or the ex-wife who'd shown up at their door, who should she believe? The answer hit her without a doubt.

  Grant.

  "I should talk to him," Simone finally replied with a deep sigh. "At least give him the chance to apologize."

  "See how you feel after that, because I'd be willing to bet you'll forgive him." Teagan squeezed her hand. "I'd be willing to bet you already have."

  Simone gave her sister a small smile. "When did you get so wise?"

  Her sister laughed, shaking her head. "Not wise, but I do know a thing or two about forgiving a stupid, stupid man."

  Laughter bubbled up between them as Simone thought of the fact that Teagan had had to forgive her now-husband, Reed, for the biggest betrayal of all—leaving her at the altar. Compared to Reed's crime, Grant's lie seemed like nothing.

  Simone realized she had probably been dramatic about the entire thing, but she had needed to get away to think about it all and decide how to get past it. How to forgive. Relationships were new territory for her, and trusting? Shit, that was the hardest part.

  Taking a deep breath, she pulled out her cell phone and opened the text thread between her and Reed. There were several missed texts from him apologizing and begging her to come home.

  I need to talk to you. It's urgent.

  His last text was sent yesterday, but she still hadn't replied to him. She'd been gone almost three days now, most of which she'd spent moping on her sister's couch. Taking a deep breath, she hoped she wasn't too late, or that he
hadn't given up on them yet.

  She typed out a quick response and hit send before she could change her mind.

  I'm coming home.

  She waited for the text bubble to pop up, indicating that he was trying a response, but nothing came. She wasn't sure why she'd expected him to respond so quickly, but she suddenly felt a moment of panic, an urgency that told her she was missing something. She was missing him.

  "I'm going to go." Simone looked up at her sister. "Can I leave Millie here for the night?"

  "Sure!" Teagan ruffled the fur on top of the puppy's head where she sat at their feet chewing on a large dog bone. "I love my new little fur-niece."

  "Thanks," she replied, grabbing up her purse and keys. She was in a cab within five minutes on her way back home. Dread swirled in her stomach, but she couldn't pin point why. She just suddenly felt this fear and couldn't seem to push it away as hard as she tried.

  It wasn't about talking to Grant. Somehow, she thought that conversation would actually go okay, but…there was still something nagging at her.

  Her phone rang, and Grant's face popped up on the screen. His long hair was pushed behind his ears, his smile stretching across his face as he stared back at her. It was a picture she'd taken of them at the beach, and the carefree happiness in his expression was a moment she wanted to return to so badly.

  She clicked the answer button. "Hello?"

  "Simone." His voice was gravelly and dark, an ominous tone that matched the nerves pitting in her stomach. "You answered."

  "I'm in a cab on my way home," she replied. "I think we should talk. I'm ready."

  A sigh came through the phone. "I'm not at our home."

  Our home. Her heart pumped harder at the reference.

  "Oh. Well, when will you be home?" she asked, chewing on the edge of her thumb. Nerves wracked her stomach because she could just tell…there was more to this story.

  "I'm…I'm probably not coming home. Not anytime soon, at least."

  She swallowed, trying to understand how things had gotten so out of control. One argument and their relationship was over? "Oh."

  "It's not like that." He sighed again. "I just landed in New Zealand. I'm still on the plane, but as soon as I step off…I'm going to be arrested."

  Her eyes widened, her free hand gripping the worn leather seat of the taxi cab. "You—You're in New Zealand? Wh—Why?"

  "As much as I hate to admit it, you were right. I've been running from this for too long, hiding it from you and everyone. It's time to face it head on."

  The turning in her stomach switched from unknown nerves to full blown panic. "Grant, no. You can't! You don't know how long you'll be detained. What if there's no way to free you?"

  "I'm confident in my men. They're looking for proof, and they'll find it." He paused for a moment, and her heart ached with the silence. "Eventually."

  Sobs began to build in her chest, bubbling up her throat. "Grant…you can't do this. You can't leave me like this."

  "I'm not leaving you," he promised. "Sweetheart, I love you. I'm sorry that it is taking a moment like this for me to tell you, but I love you with everything in me. I'm doing this for us. We can't start our future when the past is holding me hostage."

  She shook her head, even though he couldn't see her. "I love you, too. I'm so sorry I walked out. I'm sorry I got so upset."

  "Don't be. You had every right to be upset. I'm sorry I lied. I'm sorry I withheld a part of myself. I don't want to ever do that again."

  He sounded so strong, so assured, and she didn't know how that could even be possible. In a matter of minutes, he'd be taken into custody. Jail. Prison. She didn't know. She didn't know what would happen to him. Hell, he didn't know either.

  Fury built inside of her at the thought of his ex-wife. Serena. Fuck her. This was all her fault. "Is there anything I can do, Grant? I want to help. Let me help." This was all her fault. "Please."

  He was quiet for a moment, then his voice came through softly. "This is my battle, Simone. I don't want to burden you with it. I'll take care of this, and then—if you're open to it—I'll come back to New York. I'll come back to you."

  She bit her bottom lip, trying to hold back a cry. "I'll be here. I wish you could just turn around and come back."

  "Part of me wishes I could, too. But I have to do this." He went on to explain a few logistics, how he'd paid the penthouse in full for the next year for her, where to find the paperwork, and how to reach his lawyer if she needed anything. She nodded and said she understood, but she was barely listening. She was barely able to absorb anything past the fact that the man she loved was gone—again—and this time, he might never be coming back.

  "Goodbye, Simone," he said, his voice full of emotion. "I love you."

  "I love you, too." She waited for him to say more, to keep her on the phone and turn around and come back home. Instead, the line turned silent.

  Simone swallowed, hanging up the phone and pushing it back into her pocket. She asked the taxi driver to take her back to Teagan's apartment, then leaned back against the dull black seat and closed her eyes. Tears slipped down her cheeks, but she held her breath, keeping the sobbing at bay.

  Everything was ruined. And it was all that woman's fault.

  A new conviction ran through her at the thought of Serena Mercer. Grant had said that there was nothing she could do, but she refused to believe that. She refused to sit on the sidelines and wait for life to run her over, then back over her again.

  She was tired of being a victim. Tired of being the person who helped everyone else, but in this situation, she had to do it once more. She was going to fight to bring Grant back home, back into her life. She was going to be the person who helped others—but this time, it wasn't just for Grant.

  It was for her.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Grant had been in prison for two months. That was sixty days that he had been behind bars. The thought made Simone sick to her stomach. She swirled the wine around in her glass at the hotel bar where she was sitting then downed the rest in a few quick gulps.

  Standing, she smoothed out her skirt and then made her way around the bar to the far end. She slid into the bar seat next to a statuesque redhead. "Serena."

  Serena swirled on her barstool to face her. Her eyes widened for only a second, then showed just the tiniest hint of recognition before she lifted her chin and tensed her jaw, as if steeling herself for the confrontation. "I don't think I ever got your name," she replied.

  Simone stretched out a hand. "Simone Reynolds."

  The beautiful redhead glanced down at Simone's hand, but didn't take it. "I would say it's nice to officially meet you, but something tells me this isn't just a social call."

  "He broke up with me, you know." Her words came out slightly slurred, that third glass of wine beginning to slow her reflexes. She tilted forward to lean on the bar but missed. Her arms slid down to her lap instead. Simone righted herself, then pointed at Serena. "He broke up with me because of you."

  A sly smile spread across the woman's face. "You're drunk. Maybe you should run on home and stop embarrassing yourself."

  Simone shook her head, her finger still wagging in front of the woman's face. "No. You don't get to talk. I get to talk. You ruined everything. It's your fault he's in jail."

  "I don't know what my good-for-nothing ex-husband told you," Serena replied, her voice lowered as she leaned forward. "But his lot in life is his own fault."

  "I loved him, Serena." Simone picked up Serena's wine glass and downed the entire thing. "I loved him and you ruined it."

  Serena glanced around them, clearly annoyed by her display. "Can you please lower your voice?"

  "Can I?" Simone's voice only rose louder. "CAN I LOWER MY VOICE?"

  "Jesus Christ." Serena slid off her barstool and grabbed Simone's elbow, yanking her alongside her and guiding her to the bathroom at the end of a long hallway off the bar.

  "Hey!" Simone protested, but let the woman
drag her along anyway. "Ow!"

  "I can't even believe Grant would go from being married to someone like me to dating a complete mess like you," Serena huffed. "What a joke."

  "Hey," Simone protested again, less conviction in her voice this time.

  "How did you even find me?" Serena asked, wetting some paper towel in the sink and holding it to Simone's forehead in a sad attempt at sobering her up. "No one's been able to find me."

  "I just saw you here." Simone's words stumbled out of her mouth. "I was drinking."

  "No shit." Serena shook her head, crossing her arms over her chest. "You smell like the inside of a wine bottle."

  "Hey!"

  Serena leaned closer. "Listen, I'm sorry, okay? Is that what you want to hear? Will that make you leave me alone?"

  "Why did you do it?" Simone asked, coughing at the last word. "Why did you frame him for stealing all that money?"

  Serena shrugged. "It wasn't that hard. I fell in love, and we needed money to run off together. I wasn't about to take the heat myself. I already knew Grant's passwords. It was so easy to take every dime."

  "But you didn't even care? You didn't care about ruining his life?" Tears sprung to Simone's eyes at the thought.

  "Why should I care about a man who never cared about me?" Serena checked her reflection in the mirror, running her fingers through her hair. "Grant worked all the time. He was barely ever home, and when he was…I don't know. We just didn't have that spark. Not like I've felt with other men."

  "Then why get married in the first place?"

  "That’s easy," Serena replied, the sly smile returning to her face again. "He was going places in his career. He was always going to be rich. Why not share the wealth?"

  "Are you saying you married him for his money, and then stole all of it? Even framed him for embezzlement?" Simone repeated back the story, wanting to be clear on the exact story.

  Serena let out a loud sigh. "Yes, yes, yes. Okay? Are you happy now to know the truth? Will that help you forgive him? I'm doing you a favor by telling you this. Maybe I'm a romantic at heart and want you two crazy kids to work out." She shook her head again, laughing to herself. "Of course I married him for his wealth. Of course I stole the money and framed him. It's not that hard of a concept. Maybe if you weren't so drunk, you'd get that through your thick head."