He sighs, rolling his eyes to the ceiling in a move that has pissed me off since we started dating. He’s a teenager who was playing house with me but hasn’t had the time to grow up yet. “Contrary to how you may feel about me, Josie, I don’t wish you any ill will. I want what’s best for our daughter.”
“Yes, but the problem is Barry, you believe that is with you and not her mother where she belongs.”
“I’m concerned about you and your health. If it’s a bad sprain, you need to be resting. Do you have someone here to help you?”
If it is hurt? Did he just say that if it really is a bad sprain? Like I would fake a sprain. I don’t get how you can be married to someone for so long and share a bed with them, yet know so little about that person.
How is it somebody who promised to love you for a lifetime gets wrapped up with the nanny and throws all your happiness away?
That’s not quite true. Is it? Because his happiness wasn’t thrown away. He just tossed mine in the garbage. In Barry’s world he traded up for more happiness. I was last year’s American Girl doll, the one who wears colonial American dress rags. And Lindsey is the newest version with a cute little sequin dress from the 1920s, happily living in the Jazz Era before the depression hits.
“How do you plan to take care of Emma?” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest.
“The same way I have every day since she was born.”
Like having a sprained ankle makes me incapable of taking care of my child.
“It can’t be easy and I’m sure the hospital gave you pain meds. I don’t like you in this apartment alone with Emma while you’re taking drugs.” His words make me sound like I’m a drug addict getting hopped up in the bathroom.
My skin heats as anger builds, and even though I shouldn’t, I picture Nate’s big black truck running him down as I watch from the sidelines.Oh no, Barry. Watch out…. Not.I’d at least pretend to be upset.
For Emma’s sake.
“I’m fine, as you can see.”
Of course, just my luck, my balance takes a hit as I stand back up trying to let Barry see I’m fine taking care of myself. Thankfully I don’t fall over on my ass and I’m able to regain my balance without my crutches. It requires me to take one small step back and I grimace through the pain.
“See?” Just from his smug face he thinks he’s already won. “I’ll take Emma off your hands until you’re better. There’s no way you can take care of her by yourself. Lindsey will be more suited.”
My mouth falls open in shock. Was he always this rude and callous, or is it a new trait he picked up since our divorce?
“How dare you imply that I’m incapable of taking care of our child? Is Lindsey still babysitting as her main source of income? Is that why you think she’d be so much better because she has experience? Which other daddies do you think she’s having affairs with?”
Barry narrows his eyes in my direction. These are all insults we’ve used before, during, and after the divorce. “Lindsey is putting herself through school.”
I’m sure she’s is, except now her tuition payments come from what used to be my joint checking account.
“Well, how will she be able to take care of Emma if she’s so busy studying human anatomy?” We all know whose anatomy she was studying not that long ago.
“Stop being ridiculous, Josie. The point remains the same. You cannot care for Emma alone in this apartment. You can either hand her over now with less trauma or I will get a judge involved.”
Those words are enough to take my anger from pissed off to straight through the roof — the level of angry a woman can only express through tears and sometimes throwing things. How was I ever attracted to this man? I also drank cheap Boones Farm wine in my twenties. My standards were clearly much lower.
My fists clench and I inwardly swear at my eyes not to shed a tear. I refuse to let him see how he continues to hurt me. Because Barry is so sure of himself and his superiority, he would get a judge involved. And by the time it would take to drag it all out and get a court day, I’ll be healed, but between the court costs and the stress it would all take its toll. And he knows it.
When it comes down to it, money always wins and the one thing Barry has a lot of is money.
“Josie, you didn’t tell me it was Barry’s day to pick Emma up.” Nate’s booming voice carries from the hallway. It’s not that he speaks rudely or harshly, but simply with authority. He so sure of every word he says.
I turn, just enough to not knock myself over on the crutches, and wipe away a tear while facing the other direction. He stands just at the start of the living room, Emma safely tucked between his arms. Her hair is lopsided and floppy, but she has a smile on her face and Nate ignores her attempts to bash his collarbone in with the oversized LEGO building block. For his part he doesn’t seem fazed in the least even as his neck where she hits turns red.
“Who the fuck is that?” Barry asks.
I twist back to him. “Don’t swear in front of Emma.”
“I’m Nate,” my brown-eyed savior says, stepping closer and attempting to put a hand around my shoulder. But the way I move my crutches makes for an awkward pose and he soon gives up on the embrace.
“And what are you doing in my wife’s apartment?”
