Corey’s lip twitches. “Always such a fucking smart-ass, aren’t you? She couldn’t get one.”

“Because she’s not capable of filling out the required paperwork?”

“Do you think you’re funny, Queenie? You think it’s some kind of joke that you’re forever fucking up my life?”

“I’ve had nothing to do with you for six damn years, and I would be more than happy to never have anything to do with you again. You know what? I’m done with this conversation. It’s not my fault your girlfriend doesn’t know how to fill out applications.” I try to elbow him out of the way, but he won’t move. “Let me out.”

“We’re not done here.” He holds up a hand to keep me at bay. “My girlfriend can fill out applications just fine. You are the reason she couldn’t apply for the license.”

“What? That doesn’t even make sense.”

“It does, though. Because we’re still fucking married.” He motions between us aggressively.

That horrible churning in my stomach ramps up. “That’s impossible. There must be some mistake. I filed the papers.”

“Well, you fucked up somewhere along the way, like you always do. They never went through, and now she’s losing her goddamn mind, and it’s your fucking fault.”

“How the hell is this my fault? I did my part. In fact I did everything! I got the paperwork; I tabbed every page you damn well needed to sign. I stood there while some bunny hoovered your damn neck and flipped the pages for you so you wouldn’t fuck it up. I even handed you half the damn money in person. All you had to do was pay the fucking fee!”

Corey’s brow furrows and then he sneers, leaning in so his face is close to mine. “If you hadn’t gone running home to Daddy when shit didn’t work out the way you wanted, we could’ve gone right to the courthouse and taken care of things, so don’t try to turn this around and make it my fault.”

“Is that supposed to make any damn sense? Did you or didn’t you pay the filing fee?”

“It was a long time ago. How the hell am I supposed to remember?”

“Jesus Christ, Corey. Do you take responsibility for anything in your asshole privileged life?”

“My life is privileged? Fuck you, little Miss ‘I’m the Queen of My Fucking Castle.’ It wasn’t like you couldn’t afford to pay the entire thing, with your dad sitting all high up in the NHL administration ranks.”

“It wasn’t like I could ask him for money to pay for a divorce! I was eighteen!” I don’t know why I’m engaging in this argument with him. It’s pointless. Corey is the master at deflecting blame.

He rolls his eyes. “God, you’re still so fucking pathetic. You want to know the real reason I married you in the first place? Other than the fact that I wanted to pop that precious fucking cherry you were so intent on holding on to. You weren’t even that great in bed. Pretty fucking boring, actually.”

“I’m done listening to this! Let me out of here.” I try to get around him to open the door, but it’s useless. Corey is bigger and stronger than I am by a lot. He’s not going to let me go until he’s finished tearing me down.

“You’re done when I tell you you’re done. Your dad had connections, and he could get me what I wanted a lot easier than waiting for the scouts to pick me up. That’s the only reason I kept you around as long as I did. It’s the only reason I let you talk me into marrying you. And then I realized what a clingy, needy nightmare you were. I mean, is it really a surprise that I went looking elsewhere to get what I needed? Plus, I was twenty. Like I was going to spend my best years on one lame pussy.”

“You’re a pig.”

“I’m honest. It’s not my problem you never liked to hear the truth. I wonder how your Boy Scout is going to feel when he finds out he’s been fucking my wife all this time.”

“I wouldn’t be your anything if you’d paid the filing fee!” Panic makes it feel like I’m being choked. “You can’t tell Kingston.”

“I guess you better fix it if you don’t want him to find out, then. Don’t you think he deserves to know what kind of flake you really are, hiding behind your daddy and his success, leeching off his fucking players like you’re special, when you’re not? Even your name is a goddamn joke. The only thing royal about you is how much of a pain you are in everyone’s ass.” He opens the door, finally. I don’t try to push past him, though, aware he’s not quite done taunting me by the way his smile curves even higher. “It must suck to be surrounded by awesomeness all the time and be so damn average. Fix the problem, Queenie, unless you want everyone to know what a fuckup you really are.”