Read Tempered (A Daughters of the People Novel) (Daughters of the People Series) for Free Online Page B

he’d
rather not see at all.
    Jeanne had given
him hell after Hawthorne’s demonstration at breakfast, lighting into him for
sleeping with a misogynistic heteronormative libertarian to the point
that she’d put his teeth on edge. He’d set her straight about the misogyny. As
far as he could tell, the only woman Hawthorne despised was Jeanne, and he
honestly couldn’t blame her for that, especially after the cattiness his
ex-wife had resorted to. Honest to God, what had she been thinking? Hawthorne
carried a sword, a real-life, genuine sword, and knew how to use it. Hadn’t the
rumor mill circulated that around to Jeanne after the stick-fighting exhibition
the night before?
    But no. Jeanne
had never been one to bow to reason, not if she could twist a situation to suit
her own ends.
    She’d left him
for being insensitive to her needs as a woman. That’s what she called his wanting
to have sex, which he’d always believed was a natural part of any relationship.
It had been a devastating blow to his manhood. For a long time, he’d blamed
himself for marrying her right out of college, for working two jobs while they
each established careers as artists, for not spending enough time with her. His
belief that they belonged together had carried him through those years. He’d
wanted a family, wanted to grow old with her, and looked forward to the day
when they’d both be successful in their respective fields and could laugh at
the trials they’d endured to get there.
    After she’d
cleared out, her views on children as parasites and men as a necessary evil had
come to light. It had put a whole new perspective on their marriage. Instead of
the guilt he’d felt for not working hard enough, he’d gradually understood that
his part in their marriage’s failure had been small in comparison to hers.
She’d never wanted marriage, not really, and if she’d been honest about that,
they could’ve parted more amicably without the mess of a legal union. Instead,
she’d all but dragged him down the aisle and he, believing his love was enough
to carry them through, had given everything he had to her. It had never been enough.
    Over time, she’d
created a revisionist history of their marriage, bragging about the good times,
glossing over the bad ones, and completely ignoring her own role in its
failure. Her hints that she wanted to reconcile with him had grown heavier over
the past couple of years, but he was content with the casual friendship they’d
built on top of the ruins of their marriage.
    Now that he’d
met Hawthorne, he damn sure wouldn’t take Jeanne back, even if he never saw
Hawthorne again. Her blunt honesty was a pleasant change from the cutthroat
social scene in San Francisco. Ok, so she was a tad volatile. Then again,
Jeanne had goaded her. The other women in his ex-wife’s circle of friends
would’ve resorted to infantile name-calling and bitchy conversations on Twitter.
After overhearing Levi’s comment about beheadings, he had a feeling they were
all lucky Hawthorne had made do with a quiet threat. And though he didn’t
believe Hawthorne would really kill anyone, he damn sure knew she had the skill
for it.
    He shifted his
attention back to the audience and answered a question from a neophyte
illustrator, expanding on an answer another panelist gave. The event wound down
gradually, slower than Aaron would’ve liked, until only a few stragglers
remained. He slipped away as soon as he could, grabbed a snack on his way to
his room. Showered quickly then checked his phone messages while he dressed in
a clean t-shirt and running shorts. At the last minute, he packed a bag with
toiletries and a change of clothes and, as an afterthought, dropped in his
sketchpad and some pencils. It never hurt to be prepared.
    He took the
private elevator to her floor and tapped his fingers on his thigh as the floor
numbers lit up above his head. Inhaled slowly, calming the rapid patter of his
heart. The doors slid open. He