The air of self-assurance around the woman was intoxicating. That fact both enticed and alarmed her. That bright flame of self-confidence was what had attracted her to Karl. He was so self-assured that she couldn’t help questioning her own mind. And if she were to tell the truth, in all this time, she hadn’t really stopped questioning her decisions. She was supposedly free now. Physically and legally, she was. But there was still a lot of work left to do before she could remotely entertain the idea that the worst parts of her trauma were behind her.
Before she could think herself out of her automatic decision, her head was nodding, and she fell in line behind the stranger and her row mate, exiting the community center and heading for thesmall pub across the street. Whatever waited in there had to be better than the despair she’d just witnessed or the rage and fear that clawed at her insides.
“And when I confronted him about his mistress, he smiled at me and said, ‘Good, since my secret is out, I don’t have to hide or lie about her anymore.’ He’d simply tell me in advance when he had plans with his girlfriend the next time.”
Vanessa took the final swig of her margarita as she spilled the embarrassing tale of how her marriage went from conventional to open without her consent and gestured to the bartender for another round at their table.
She needed another drink.
She needed to drown out the missing parts of that story, the part where her husband emotionally abused her for more than two decades, the part where she’d ignored all the alarms going off in her head and by the time she’d recognized his manipulations for what they were, it was too late to break away. More alcohol would dull that pain or make her forget it entirely. Either way, she’d be happy to push those memories away if only for a few hours in a small bar in the middle of a sleepy little town in Pennsylvania.
“Girl!” Janae Sanders, the woman formerly known as Vanessa’s row mate, shook her head. “I’m assuming since you’re sitting here with us and not in a jail cell, you didn’t kill him. A fact I applaud you for, because honey-chile, if it had been me, I would have called the cops first, took him out, then sat down on my couch sipping wine while I waited for them to come get me.”
Maybe it was because they were on their third round of drinks, but Janae’s response to Vanessa’s story seemed perfectly rational. Unfortunately, Vanessa hadn’t thought of it at the time. Her mind was so twisted, and her sense of self-preservation had been so badlybrutalized, that his cheating hadn’t stoked her anger or need for vengeance. It had only made her question how she’d managed to lose his favor and who she was if she wasn’t the object of his perverse obsession, cloaked as attention. It was the typical “He only treats me this way because he loves me” toxic thinking that many survivors of abuse had been trained to initiate anytime they angered their assailant. The only problem was, back then, she hadn’t recognized it as manipulation. She’d thought, as warped as it sounded, that toxic thinking was love.
Since she hadn’t seen the abuse for what it really was, Karl’s announcement had paralyzed her. And not just in the moment—it had taken her three months before she found the nerve to file for divorce. “No, I didn’t kill him. My lawyer suggested I do something worse: take him for everything he was worth and live out the rest of my life happily on his dime.”
Vanessa had been so detached and uncertain, she couldn’t possibly have made any sort of calculated decision such as that on her own. Her lawyer was a shark, and had done what she’d seen was best for Vanessa, including encouraging her to get into therapy to work on herself. She knew that particular detail was the only reason she’d found a path ahead at all.
“Oh, I like the way your lawyer thinks. All mine got me was child support and half his pension,” Janae responded. “What about you, Cree?
Cree Brenan, the feisty stranger who had lured them here with a smile and the promise of drinks, shrugged her shoulders. “My ex and me had an amicable divorce. We kept our businesses separate, split the personal assets down the middle, and moved on with our lives. It was a mutual decision, and the execution was pretty straightforward. I’m guessing you two didn’t have that situation.”
Vanessa shook her head because she sure as hell hadn’t had an amicable divorce. Karl fought her tooth and nail for every red cent.The only problem was that as his accountant, she knew where all his money was hidden. He couldn’t hide it from her the way he had anyone else who’d tried to get at his cash.
“No,” Janae whispered. The liveliest and boldest one of the three, she seemed unafraid to say exactly what she was thinking. Except for now. A server brought over their next pitcher of margaritas and refreshed each of their glasses before leaving them. Janae sipped her drink, then took a deep breath before she continued. “We had a nasty custody battle that dragged on for a long time. My husband didn’t necessarily care for my supportive parenting style over his authoritative one and fought me for full custody. It took a while, but I won.”
Cree raised her glass and Janae and Vanessa followed. “Congrats on that. Mama bear don’t play when it comes to the kids.”
“No, I do not,” Janae answered while cool resignation settled her features. “Even though I wanted to kill him during the divorce, I know if I’m gonna do what’s best for my boy, I gotta find some common ground with him. That’s why I came to the meeting tonight. I needed to try to figure out how to move on with my life, get past my anger, so I can do what’s best for my kid. Why did y’all come?”
Cree sipped her drink before placing it back on the table. “I came to figure out what’s next. I’ve always had a plan for everything in my life. Getting divorced wasn’t part of that. Other than my business, I don’t really know what’s on the horizon for me. What about you, Vanessa?”
Vanessa shifted in her seat as the weight of their combined stares settled over her. She hardly knew these women. A few rounds of margaritas didn’t make them friends by any stretch of the imagination. Nevertheless, sitting there with them, she somehow sensed these two strangers might be the best place to leave her burdens. Or at least she hoped it was the best place. Given her track record of terribly misjudging character, she really couldn’t tell.
“I spent so long being his wife and now I don’t know how to be me. He betrayed me, then traded me in for a newer model, and moved on with his life like I was an afterthought. Sure, I took his money, but I never touchedhim. Me, on the other hand, I’m still a mess. I have no idea where I go from here or who I am without him.”
That was all true, even if she hid some of the darker reasons for this self-realization. Vanessa attributed the startling amount of self-pity spilling from her lips to the amount of alcohol she’d consumed. Too ashamed, she pulled her gaze from theirs and focused on her hand shaking nervously on the table. The warmth of amber-brown skin covering her hand stopped the shaking. Soon, Janae added her palm to the mix, and the fear and anger Vanessa carried around like luggage seemed lighter.
“You don’t need to be ashamed.” Janae’s voice was soothing, quieting the embarrassment Vanessa experienced. “It’s why we’re all here. None of us got what we needed in that meeting where we’d have to put our business out in the streets to a crowd. Here, though”—Janae glanced around the dim bar—“at a secluded table with just the three of us, we can speak our truths and not worry about judgment.”
Vanessa was eternally grateful for the no-judgment part. She’d suffered enough of that during her time with Karl.
“It appears we all have some very important things to do after turning in our MRS degrees,” Janae continued. “How about we make a pact to help each other move on to our better selves?”
“Yeah, like accountability partners,” Cree added.
Janae chuckled. “Yeah, that, and friends, too. We check on each other, help each other when we get low, and a year from today, we come back, reevaluate our goals, and possibly do it again. How does that sound?”
Vanessa smiled. A genuine smile, one that tugged at her muscles and made them ache slightly. This didn’t make a lick of sense. Teaming up with two strangers to figure out her own crazy life wasn’t anywhere in her plans. Despite how out of character this was forher, as the two women matched Vanessa’s big smile with ones of their own, she knew this was exactly what she needed.
“We are savvy,” Cree began.
“And sexy,” Janae continued. “let’s not forget the sexy part.”
Vanessa laughed. She didn’t know if she considered herself all that sexy. The resolute expression on Janae’s face indicated she’d brook no argument on the matter, so Vanessa merely nodded. “And single,” Vanessa added.
Cree squealed, grabbing her drink, holding it in the air, and motioning for Janae and Vanessa to do the same. When they did, she said, “That’s exactly what we are. The Savvy, Sexy, and Single Club. Three women who are embracing life after divorce.”
