Chapter Seventeen: The Collision
Jack saw him in the lobby.
It was Tuesday morning, three days after the party. Three days since he'd watched his wife tell him to leave while two men fucked her. Three days since he'd slept in his car with Bella, woken up to an empty house, and called a divorce attorney.
Three days of existing in a fog of rage and grief so thick he could barely breathe.
And there was Rider, walking through the glass doors of Meridian Insurance like he owned the fucking place.
Jack had been standing by the elevators, coffee in hand, trying to summon the energy to go upstairs and pretend to work. He'd barely slept. Hadn't eaten. His suit was wrinkled because he'd pulled it from a suitcase in his hotel room, and he was pretty sure he looked like hell.
But the moment he saw Rider—perfectly groomed, perfectly pressed, that easy confidence radiating from him like he hadn't just destroyed someone's life—something inside Jack snapped.
He didn't think. Didn't plan.
He just moved.
"Rider!"
His voice echoed through the marble lobby, sharp and loud enough to make heads turn.
Rider stopped, turning with that infuriating smile already forming on his lips. "Jack! Hey, man. Didn't expect to see you here today. Thought you might be taking some time—"
"Shut the fuck up."
Jack crossed the distance between them in three strides, his coffee forgotten on a nearby table. His hands were shaking. His whole body was shaking.
Rider's smile faltered slightly. "Whoa. Easy there. You okay?"
"Am I okay?" Jack's voice was rising, drawing more attention. He didn't care. "You're asking me if I'm okay? After what you did?"
"Jack, I don't know what you're—"
"Don't." Jack stepped closer, his finger jabbing toward Rider's chest. "Don't you fucking dare pretend you don't know. You planned this. All of it. The dinner, the party, the whole goddamn thing. You wanted to destroy my marriage, and you did."
Rider held up his hands in a placating gesture, but his eyes were calculating. Cold. "Look, man, I think you're upset about what happened at the party, and I get that. But nobody forced—"
"Nobody forced?" Jack laughed, the sound bitter and broken. "You manipulated us. You manipulated her. You got inside her head and twisted everything until she didn't know what she wanted anymore."
"That's not how I remember it." Rider's voice was calm, measured. Which only made Jack angrier. "From where I was standing, Leena knew exactly what she wanted. And she wanted—"
"Don't say her name."
"—to be fucked by me and Ronald while you watched." Rider's smile returned, sharper now. Cruel. "And she loved every second of it, didn't she? The way she moaned, the way she begged for more—"
Jack's fist connected with Rider's jaw before he even realized he'd thrown the punch.
The impact sent a shock of pain up his arm, but it felt good. Felt like the first real thing he'd felt in days.
Rider stumbled backward, his hand flying to his face. Blood trickled from his split lip.
"You fucking psycho!" Rider's voice was no longer calm. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
"What's wrong with me?" Jack advanced on him, his fists still clenched. "You fucked my wife! You turned her into—into—"
"Into what she always wanted to be?" Rider straightened, wiping blood from his mouth. His eyes were hard now, all pretense of friendliness gone. "Face it, Jack. Leena didn't need much convincing. She was ready for someone to show her what she was missing. And you? You were too busy being the perfect husband to notice she was bored out of her mind."
Jack lunged at him again, but this time Rider was ready. He sidestepped, and Jack crashed into a decorative planter, sending it toppling to the floor with a crash.
Security was already moving toward them. Jack could hear voices shouting, footsteps running.
But he didn't care.
He turned back to Rider, breathing hard. "You're a manipulative piece of shit. You get off on destroying people. On taking what isn't yours."
"Nothing I took wasn't offered freely." Rider touched his lip again, examining the blood on his fingers. "Leena made her choice, Jack. And it wasn't you."
The words hit harder than any punch could have.
Because they were true.
Two security guards grabbed Jack's arms, pulling him back. He didn't resist. The fight had drained out of him as quickly as it had come, leaving only exhaustion and shame.
"Let me go," he said quietly. "I'm done."
"Mr. Morrison, we need you to come with us." One of the guards—a guy Jack vaguely recognized from the break room—looked uncomfortable. "We have to take you to HR."
Jack nodded. He let them lead him away, past the crowd of coworkers who'd gathered to watch the spectacle. Past the whispers and stares.
He didn't look back at Rider.
He couldn't.
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The HR meeting was brief and humiliating.
Jack sat in a sterile conference room while Margaret Pell, the head of HR, reviewed the incident with barely concealed disappointment.
"Physical violence in the workplace is grounds for immediate termination," she said, her voice flat. "You know that, Jack. You've been with us for six years. You've never had a disciplinary issue before. But this—"
"I know." Jack stared at his hands. His knuckles were bruised, already starting to swell. "I'm sorry. I lost control."
"That's not an excuse."
"I'm not making excuses." He looked up at her. "I fucked up. I know that. Just—just do what you need to do."
Margaret sighed. "We'll need you to clear out your desk today. Security will escort you. Your final paycheck will be mailed to your address on file."
"Fine."
"Jack—" She hesitated. "I don't know what's going on in your personal life, and it's not my business. But you need to get help. This isn't you."
Jack almost laughed. Because the truth was, he didn't know who he was anymore.
The man who'd punched Rider in the lobby? That wasn't the Jack Morrison who'd proposed on a cliff overlooking the city. Who'd promised to love and cherish Leena for the rest of his life.
But maybe that Jack was gone. Maybe he'd died the moment he walked into that bedroom and saw his wife being fucked by two men while she told him to leave.
"I'll be fine," he said.
Margaret didn't look convinced. But she nodded and stood. "Security will be here in a few minutes. I'm sorry it came to this."
She left him alone in the conference room.
Jack pulled out his phone. His hands were still shaking.
He had no job. No wife. No idea what the fuck he was supposed to do next.
But he had Bella's number.
He stared at it for a long moment. Then he started typing.
Hey. I know this is random, but I have tickets to the Celtics game tonight. Friend gave them to me a few weeks ago. Was supposed to go with Leena, but... yeah. You interested?
He hit send before he could second-guess himself.
The response came almost immediately.
God, yes. I need to get out of this house. What time?
Jack felt something loosen in his chest. Not relief, exactly. But something close.
I'll pick you up at 6.
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Bella was waiting on her front porch when Jack pulled up.
She'd dressed casually—jeans, a Celtics jersey, her hair pulled back in a ponytail. She looked younger like this. Less polished. More real.
"Hey," she said, sliding into the passenger seat. "Thanks for the invite. I was going crazy sitting at home."
"Where's your husband?"
"Business trip. Chicago. Won't be back until Friday." She buckled her seatbelt. "Where's Leena?"
"I don't know." Jack pulled away from the curb. "Haven't talked to her since the party."
Bella was quiet for a moment. Then: "I heard about what happened at work today."
Jack's hands tightened on the steering wheel. "News travels fast."
"My husband works in the same building. Different company, but same building. He texted me about it." She paused. "Said you punched Rider in the lobby."
"Yeah."
"Good."
Jack glanced at her, surprised.
Bella shrugged. "He deserved it. Probably deserved worse."
"I got fired."
"I figured." She turned to look at him. "You okay?"
"No." Jack kept his eyes on the road. "But I will be. Eventually."
They drove in silence for a while. The city passed by outside the windows—familiar streets, familiar buildings, a life that felt increasingly foreign.
"You know what's fucked up?" Jack said finally. "I was supposed to take Leena to this game. Had it planned for weeks. She loves basketball. Or—I thought she did. Now I don't know if I ever really knew her at all."
"You knew her," Bella said quietly. "You just didn't know this version of her. The one Rider created."
"Maybe this version was always there. Maybe I just didn't want to see it."
"Or maybe people change. Maybe we all have the capacity to become someone we don't recognize." Bella looked out the window. "I know I have."
Jack wanted to ask what she meant. But he didn't. Because he already knew.
They'd both been changed by what Rider and Hela had done to them. Twisted into shapes they didn't recognize.
The question was whether they could find their way back.
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The game was exactly what Jack needed.
The noise, the energy, the sheer normalcy of it all—it was like stepping into a different world. A world where his biggest concern was whether the Celtics would cover the spread, not whether his wife was fucking someone else.
Bella seemed to feel it too. She relaxed as they found their seats, her shoulders dropping, her smile becoming genuine for the first time since he'd picked her up.
"These are great seats," she said, looking around. "How'd you get them?"
"Client gave them to me. Said thanks for handling his claim quickly." Jack settled into his seat. "Guess that doesn't matter now."
"Fuck Meridian Insurance." Bella grabbed his arm. "You'll find something better. You're good at what you do."
"Thanks."
The game started, and for a while, Jack actually forgot about everything else.
He cheered when the Celtics scored. Groaned when they missed. Argued with Bella about whether the ref's call was bullshit (it was). Bought overpriced beer and hot dogs and pretended this was just a normal night out with a friend.
And maybe it was. Or maybe it was something more.
Because he kept noticing things about Bella. The way she laughed at his jokes. The way she leaned into him when the crowd got loud. The way her hand would brush his arm when she made a point.
And he noticed the way he felt around her. Lighter. Less broken. Like maybe he could be someone other than the guy whose wife had destroyed him.
"You're staring," Bella said during a timeout.
Jack blinked. "What?"
"You're staring at me." She smiled, but there was something uncertain in her eyes. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah. Sorry. I just—" He hesitated. "Thanks for coming tonight. I needed this."
"Me too." Bella's smile softened. "I've been so lonely lately. My husband's always gone, and when he is home, he's—" She stopped. "Never mind. Tonight's not about that."
"You can talk about it. If you want."
"I don't." She turned back to the game. "I just want to enjoy this. Enjoy being here with someone who actually wants to be with me."
Jack's chest tightened. "Bella—"
"Shh. They're about to shoot a three."
The moment passed. But something had shifted between them. Something that felt dangerous and inevitable all at once.
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The Celtics won by twelve points.
Jack and Bella filed out of the arena with the rest of the crowd, both of them riding the high of the victory. They talked about the game, about the players, about anything except their actual lives.
It wasn't until they were back in Jack's car, the engine running but the car still in park, that reality came crashing back.
Jack's phone buzzed.
He pulled it out, expecting a spam call or maybe a text from his mom asking how he was doing.
Instead, it was from his lawyer.
Got word from Leena's attorney. She's reviewed the divorce papers and accepted all terms. No contest. We can file tomorrow if you're ready.
Jack stared at the screen.
He'd known this was coming. Had initiated it himself. But seeing it in writing—seeing the confirmation that Leena had agreed, that she wasn't going to fight for their marriage—felt like a punch to the gut.
"Jack?" Bella's voice was soft. "What's wrong?"
He handed her the phone without a word.
Bella read the message. Her expression shifted—sympathy, sadness, understanding.
"Oh, Jack."
"She didn't even hesitate." His voice was hollow. "Didn't try to fight it. Just—accepted it. Like our marriage meant nothing."
"Maybe it's better this way. Clean break."
"Maybe." Jack leaned back against the headrest, closing his eyes. "Doesn't make it hurt less."
They sat in silence for a long moment. The parking lot was emptying around them, cars pulling out one by one, people heading home to their normal lives.
Jack didn't want to go back to his hotel room. Didn't want to be alone with his thoughts and the crushing weight of everything he'd lost.
He turned to Bella.
She was watching him with those dark eyes, her expression open and vulnerable in a way he'd never seen before.
"Do you have any plans for the rest of the day?" he asked quietly.
It was a simple question. But they both knew what he was really asking.
Do you want to be with me? Do you want to not be alone tonight? Do you feel this thing between us too?
Bella held his gaze for a long moment.
Then she reached over and took his hand.
"No," she said softly. "No plans at all."
Jack squeezed her hand.
And for the first time in days, he felt like maybe—just maybe—he was going to be okay.