Jules rolls her eyes, but Chad nods. “Let’s see what we can come up with. I assume this isn’t urgent since you’ve been paying her for more than two years.”
“No, there’s no rush. I just don’t want her to contact me anymore.”
“Tell me more about that,” Chad says. “How often does she contact you?”
“Literally every day. Sometimes multiple times a day. I told her that she wasn’t allowed to call or text, only email, but she doesn’t respect that. I finally changed my number, and that only pissed her off, and my email blew up.”
“What is she contacting youfor?” Chad asks, clearly confused.
“More money.”
The attorney that I’m quickly coming to respect shakes his head. “That’s not how this works, Jules. She gets a set amount of money, period. It’s not a negotiation, so I’m not sure why she’s contacting you for more. Have you allocated more to her in the past?”
Jules nibbles on her lower lip. “In the beginning, yes. Because I didn’t know any better. Daniel wasn’t speaking to me, so I didn’t really have anyone to ask questions. But when it got worse and worse and more abusive, I googled the protocol.”
Chad sighs and holds up a hand. “You used Google for legal advice?”
“I didn’t know what to do. But I read that as the trustee, I’m not supposed to just hand out money whenever the beneficiary asks for it, so I told her that she’d get her monthly stipend and that’s it.”
“How much does she get?” Chad asks.
“Fifteen thousand a month.”
Fucking hell.
“But she blows through it fast and always asks for more.”
“You’re going to block her on everything. I’m going to file a restraining order. That’s bullshit. I’ll do some digging, and we’ll meet back here in thirty days. You can withdraw yourself as a trustee. You don’thaveto be in charge of that money, Jules.”
My wife’s lower lip quivers, and then she swallows hard. “Really? Because I was told that I didn’t have a choice.”
“Christ.” I push my hand through my hair, feeling so fucking helpless.
“You have a choice,” Chad says gently. “We’re going to figure this out. By the end of the year, this will all be behind you.”
“That soundsamazing.Thank you so much.”
She’s quiet as we head back to Bitterroot Valley, and when I pull into our driveway, she pushes the door open and hops out before I can tell her to wait for me.
“Fucking asshole,” she mutters. She’s good and pissed off now. “Motherfucking, cheating, microscopic-dicked piece of shit.”
I wonder how she really feels about him.
“Is there a hammer in there?” she asks, pointing at the big house across the street.
“No, but I have a few in the garage.”
“Great. I need a big one.”
“Uh, baby, I can’t let you hurt yourself.”
“I can swing a goddamn hammer, and I need to destroy something right now, so please get it for me.”
With a nod, I stride into the garage and grab two sledgehammers.
Looks like demo is starting early.
“Come on, Wildfire.”
