Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 111089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 555(@200wpm)___ 444(@250wpm)___ 370(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 555(@200wpm)___ 444(@250wpm)___ 370(@300wpm)
That damn thesis. If it wasn’t her master’s thesis, it was her doctorate. Her dreams had been my life for five years. As for money being tight, we had very different definitions of what that meant, considering she had a trust fund and client base to keep her in nice cars and designer clothes, but somehow couldn’t cover the cost of high health insurance premiums.
I dragged out a sigh as I poured my whiskey. Then I took a much-needed sip.
She was quiet, clearly giving me a moment to digest the news. As I turned to her, I could see her judging my afternoon cocktail.
Christ, I couldn’t have anything. “Oh, I’m sorry. Is this going to be inconvenient for you? The way those messages on your phone were inconvenient for me?” I said the words through my teeth. Fuck. I hadn’t meant to let that out, but the rage I felt…I couldn’t help myself.
“There’s something to be said about you not respecting my boundaries.” She had this virtuous expression on her face, as though there wasn’t a doubt in her mind that she was in the right about this.
“I’m not getting into this with you.”
“After five years, you didn’t think we could have a conversation—”
“You were doing stuff with this guy for a year.”
“I’m just saying, I talked to my lawyer, and it would be nice if you could wait and file once I finish my program. I’ll be done in a year. It’ll be such a hassle. It really is just less of a headache for both of us.”
“I don’t see how it’s much of a headache for me.”
“Well, if I have all this time to work with my lawyer on the divorce, then—”
“Are you threatening me?” I asked, the words spitting right from my mouth since I was so fucking surprised by her tone.
“No. I’m just saying, we can make this a very easy process for each other, if we work together.”
Together.
A relationship is about compromise.
A relationship isn’t just about me.
I’d heard it all. Every fucking thing Sheila would say to get me to do whatever she wanted done in the moment.
“Wish you’d considered working with me on our marriage,” I said.
“You were the one who stormed off, needed to get a new place, didn’t want to try and make things work.”
“Sheila, you have been given more chances than I ever thought I’d be willing to give another person. Than any self-respecting person should be expected to.”
She quieted, as though reflecting on my comment, but I knew her well enough to know that couldn’t be the case. “You can put this on me all you want, but you checked out of our relationship a long time ago.”
There it was.
After all the pain, after all my heartache. After all the tears.
No remorse. No regret. Not even an apology.
Because it was my fault she went and fucked her client.
Just like it was my fault she fucked her grad professor.
Her “study partner.”
Her other “study partner.”
Her personal trainer.
At that point, who the fuck knew who else?
Running down the list made me ashamed of what a sucker I’d been to believe that each time had been a mistake, and even worse, somehow my fault. And the absolute worst? Part of me still believed it.
I set my glass on the counter, noticing it trembling against the marble as I released it. “Sheila, I know it might be hard and frustrating to change so much right now, but I need to file for divorce so I can move on. Don’t you understand that?”
She pushed to her feet and approached. Her frustration, her annoyance had vanished, replaced with another side of Sheila I had become so familiar with in our time together—that soft face, the teary eyes. A face that had some mystical power over me.
“I know you don’t believe this, but I love you.”
My eyes watered as I gripped the counter. “Sheila, please.”
“You don’t want to hear that, but it’s true. I’ve always loved you. Just, please. This is hard on me right now, and I’m barely hanging in…” Her voice cracked as she spoke.
Oh, how it severed through my heart.
I couldn’t look at her. I knew the face she was making, and I knew once I did, it would be all over. Not just that I would cave to what she wanted, but my greatest fear, that I would fall for it and wind up back in her arms, playing out that old, familiar script once again.
“I’ll file first thing at the start of next year. First thing. Then I can change over insurance. I’m just asking for this little favor.”
“Fine,” I said quickly, wanting this to stop. “End of this year.”
I knew I’d have to face her sooner rather than later, and as I turned to her she nodded, those wide hazel eyes set on me, looking as sincere as I could imagine a person to be, but the twist of her lip, into almost a smirk, left me with that fear that some sadistic part of her was thrilled I’d submitted.