“Am I interrupting?” My father strides in without knocking, as always.
“Nelson.” Diana walks over to him and hugs him, then kisses his cheek.
Mia has never hugged my father—not because she isn’t the hugging kind, but because he’s never allowed it.
And back then, I’d catch myself thinking:Why can’t Mia be more like Diana around my parents? Push harder. Make them like her.
Can I hate myself more for what I did to my wife?
“You packed for Stowe?” he asks, settling into the chair next to Diana like this is a social visit.
“I have a meeting in”—I look at my watch unnecessarily—” five minutes.”
He waves a hand. “Lancaster? They’ll wait. We’re bigger than them.”
I shake my head, weary of my family, tired of Diana, of myself.
“Do either of you need anything from me? ‘Cause I have a shit ton to do.”
I was in absolutely no mood to listen to my father wax poetic about how he was the smartest man in the room, all evidence to the fucking contrary since I had to pull the company out of the jaws of decimation.
“I have a meeting as well.” Diana stood up, looked at me with a sense of possession that I didn’t understand nor appreciate, or acknowledge. “I’ll see you later, Aiden…Nelson.”
Dad smiles at her. “Darling, we’re looking forward to having you over for Christmas.”
She gives me a pointed look that says:See, I’m family, not Mia.
“What’s up with you?” my father demands as soon as the door clicks closed behind Diana.
“Dad, I really have no time?—"
“Is it the girl again?” he asks, cutting me off.
My jaw flexes. “Miais my wife.”
He shrugs like it’s irrelevant. “Yes, we’re all aware. Still not sure why you married her. She can’t have children and?—”
“Dad, I don’t have time for this,” I snap, interrupting him.
Christ! It’s been years. Can we let this go already?
Dad’s the only one who brings up our lack of children quite so bluntly. Others may say something in passing but never directly. It’s impolite. We’re a polite family. Except for Dad, who thinks he can say and do whatever he wants.
“The only right thing you did…which we had to force you to do, was making her sign that prenup.”
My father always rubs this in.
I didn’t want to start my marriage by talking about what happens when it ends. But my parents insisted—and to be fair, I understood the logic. Fifty percent of marriages end in divorce, and no matter how much I loved Mia, I knew we weren’t immune.
I asked our family lawyer to draft a fair agreement.
But somewhere between that request and the day Mia signed, that damn prenup had been completely rewritten. My father had gone around me, leveraging our lawyer to ‘protect the family’.
The final document was harsh, restrictive, punitive, and entirely one-sided. I didn’t realize just how lopsided it was until I was signing it.
In the event of a dissolution of marriage between the Parties prior to the birth, adoption, or legal guardianship of any children of the marriage, the Party of the Second Part (Mia Rayburn) hereby irrevocably waives any and all rights to seek, claim, or receive spousal support, maintenance, alimony, or any other form of financial sustenance or monetary compensation from the Party of the First Part (Aiden Winter).
Mia never said a word about it. Never asked for changes. Since she didn’t bring it up, I didn’t, either. I told myself she was okay with it, that she trusted me.
