I’ve spent years trying to fit in here.
Laughing politely at their cruel jokes, letting their backhanded compliments hit me like passing snowflakes I could just shake off. Making small talk with women who looked through me and men who act like ‘kindergarten teacher’means I can’t spell my own name.
Well, Winter family, I can spell my name just fine, and I can read the fine print on my prenuptial agreement even better, which I did with Katya.
They’ll pay.
Aiden, definitely, but also Nelson and Edith.
The joke’s on them when I am the only woman who has Winter Financial shares.
They are so freaking backward that they believe only male relatives can inherit rights and sit on the board. Well, they should’ve worded that miserable prenup better.
I hadn’t cared that I’d get no money at all if we divorced without kids. Didn’t want his money. Still don’t. But I do want payment for giving Aiden six years of my life in this marriage—I want him to hurt as much as I do.
And since the only thing he, obviously, cares about, just like his father, is money. I’m going to hit him where it hurts.
“Did you bring the pies?” Aiden asks as he parks the SUV.
I raise my eyebrows as if confused. I’mnot.
I made pies and brought them for Christmas every year. They were a big hit, though no one actually said it to me except the children.
“Was I supposed to?” I infuse just enough concern in my tone.
It’s amazing how, when you’re hiding hurt, burying it deep, deep down, you become a damn good actor.
Now, it’s his turn to look confused. He’s not pretending, though. “You always bring pies to Stowe.”
I shrug. “Well, last year Edith said they weren’t good and she preferred the dessert their chef made. So…I thought, why bother.”
He scowls. “You know Mom is just…everyone loves your pies.”
“Do they?”
He smiles and cups my cheek. “I love them.”
“I’ll make some when we get home.”And then you can wear them, you son of a bitch.
He drops his hand and purses his lips. “Is everything okay?”
“Of course. Why do you keep asking?”You, guilty asshole.
I know he can sense the change in me, the distance I have created, the walls that have gone up. He also doesn’t know how to talk about it.
If he came clean right now, and told me what happened with Diana, we could have a chance. I have given him plenty of time, which is why it took me two weeks to contact Katya and get the divorce papers drawn up.
But even so, if he told me…if he was honest….
“You seem off,” he mentions.
“I do?” I widen my eyes for effect.
He licks his lips. “Maybe it’s me. I…I’m tired.”
Probably because you’re fucking your colleague…oops, sorry,work wife.
All thathardlabor.
