Pause (Larsen Bros)

“That’s true. I believe in pesky things like loyalty and stuff.”

Across the street, a dude is sitting in his car watching us and fair enough. We’re quite the spectacle.

“Please, be serious.” He reaches out to grab hold of my arm. “Anna, we need to talk.”

“Anything you need to say to me can be said through the lawyers.”

“Anna!”

“And barking my name at me won’t get you shit, Ryan. Now move your hand.”

“Just listen for a minute, would you?”

“Get your fucking hand off of her,” growls Leif, appearing behind me. Dressed in his jogging gear, so it makes sense that Ed’s now here too and also witnessing this debacle.

“I’ve got this,” I say, only no one’s listening.

“This is nothing to do with you,” snarls Ryan.

Leif steps closer. “Now I really have to fucking disagree with you there, buddy.”

“Leif, please,” I say through gritted teeth. “I can handle this.”

Standing tall, my moron ex’s nostrils flare and he says, “She’s my wife.”

“What?” asks Leif, tone outraged.

“Not even close, Ryan.” And now I’m using my pointing finger. Never a good sign. “What the hell is wrong with you? Are you delusional? Did you actually just say that I’m your wife? And you had the gall to use the present tense?”

He doesn’t respond.

“There aren’t enough words to describe how very wrong you are right now.”

Ryan’s furious gaze takes in Leif standing so close to my back and oh boy. The penny drops. I can see it in Ryan’s eyes the minute he realizes that Leif and I are involved. That I’ve moved on, at least sexually. An expression of hurt crosses my ex’s face for a moment, and give me a damn break. I’m not cheating. Not even remotely. But his pain morphs straight into anger, and now it’s well and truly on. Testosterone all but scents the air and oh my God.

With a strangled sound, Ryan lets go of me and swings at Leif’s face, clipping his jaw. Leif stumbles back a step before launching himself at my ex. In the midst of all this, I’m pushed aside by said ex, but manage to land on my ass in the nice soft grass. The two grown men, however, are busy rolling around, battling it out like we’re in the damn schoolyard. Fists fly and punches land. Grunts and groans fill the air. Holy hell. This cannot be happening.

“Are you okay?” Ed kneels at my side.

“Yeah,” I say, my eyes itching with unshed tears. And they’re not for me and my sore ass. “Can you stop these idiots, please?”

Before answering, he assists me in getting back on my feet. “Sure thing, Anna.”

And he breaks up the battling duo by waiting until Ryan is on top, then hauling him up by the back of his polo. He dispenses of my raging ex by throwing him into some nearby shrubbery. A very scratchy landing. Meanwhile, to his brother he offers a hand. Leif’s eye is swollen and a dark bruise blossoms on his chin. What a mess.

“Are you hurt?” I say, rushing to his side.

“No. Are you?”

I shake my head.

Ryan pulls himself out of the shrubbery. “I’m calling the police.”

“You fucking—” starts Leif.

I hold up a hand. “I’ve got this. Please listen when I say that this time.”

Leif shuts his mouth, gaze suddenly wary. The man is not stupid.

“You’re going to call the cops about a fight you started, Ryan?” I ask, dealing with the situation as promised. “Really? How do you think that’s going to go?”

His face is set in mulish lines, his hair ruffled, and nose dripping blood. It looks broken. The line of it wrong somehow. Can’t say he didn’t deserve that.

“Leif was only defending himself. Not to mention, you also pushed me, Ryan,” I say. “Me. The ex-wife you just went through a pretty damn acrimonious divorce with. You made me fall. Pretty sure that counts as assault, don’t you?”

He sets his hands on his hips, giving me a distinctly pissy expression. The nerve of this bastard.

“Shall I press charges or are you going to stop being an idiot, peacefully leave, and promise never to return? Or would you like to end the day needing a criminal lawyer as well as a divorce lawyer?” I ask.

Something close to panic enters his gaze. “Anna, wait, please. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“You never do,” I say. “And yet you still make the worst damn choices. I’m done being hurt by you. And I’m done letting you hurt the people I care about.”

“I’m sorry.” Oh the angst. He’s giving it his all. “I just wanted to talk.”

“Oh, Jesus. Give me strength.” I take in a deep breath. “Listen to me, Ryan. Are you listening?”

“Yes.”

“We are never, not in a million years, getting back together. Do you hear me? Are you taking this in?”

He opens his mouth to speak, but I get there first.