Dad walks into my office at around five, flanked by Ronald Dempsey, our family attorney.
The ambush is as old-school as Nelson Winter himself.
“Son, have you gone through the divorce papers?” Dad demands.
No hello, how are you doing? How is life now that the wife gave you the old heave-ho?
“No,” I lie.
I did finally read through the documents Katya sent me via email last night. I’d read the prenup after Dad did his end run around me and had thought it was lopsided, but I hadn’t cared. Then, I couldn’t imagine Mia and me ever getting divorced.
“Well, I have,” he sneers.
He must’ve read the one Mia handed to me on Christmas Eve.
I nod, steepling my hands, as my plan to win my wife back starts to solidify.
“She’s coming after Winter Financial,” he roars. “The bitch has some nerve.”
“You call her that again, I’m going to pound my fist into your face.” The words come out soft and menacing.
I have never in my life stood up to my father—never threatened him. I wish I had before, because the look on his face makes it so fucking worth it. The man is about to piss his pants; he’s so furious.
“What did you say?” He emphasizes each word like he used to when I was a kid, shit scared of him.
“I said that if you ever use that kind of language when referring to my wife, I will?—”
“Gentlemen.” Ronald raises his hand, cuts me off, trying to play peacemaker.
He’s been around the family for decades, but even he’s shocked by my behavior. It’s freeing, I realize, to just say what I think—so freeing that it makes me see how much of a prison I lived in until now.
“Make him see sense, Ron.” Dad glowers at me. It has absolutely no impact. Even I’m a little surprised at how he can’t get under my skin.
I had put up with all of it. But with Mia gone, I can’t see the point. What the hell am I trying to protect if she’s not there?
“Since you haven’t read the petition, let me give you the highlights,” Ronald begins, and when I jerk my chin in acknowledgment, he continues. “Your wife is invoking the equitable remedy clause tied to breach ofmarital trust. Since the prenup waives alimony, she’s requesting fifty percent of all marital and personal assets in accordance with the infidelity provision—this includes your equity in Winter Financial, the primary residence in Burlington, your investment portfolio, vehicles, and any other assets in your name acquired during the marriage.”
“There’s no infidelity. He just kissed Diana and that’s about it…actually, we’ll just say he didn’t and that she used AI or some shit to doctor the photo,” Dad spits out.
Ronald shifts uncomfortably. “Ah, Nelson, look…I’m not going to commit perjury or let any of you do that, either.”
Dad glares at him.
He smiles back uneasily. “Aiden, I have drafted a reasonable counter to the divorce petition.”
“We give her some money and shut her up,” Dad interjects.
I huff out a sharp breath. “Dad, can you let Ronald do the talking?”
Ronald puts a restraining hand on my father’s shoulder. “We say that we can give her half the house, which is listed at”—he rifles through his papers—“one point two million. After the mortgage is paid, she’ll get around two hundred.”
“And you think that’sequitable?” I ask, holding his gaze.
Ronald looks at Dad and me. “Well….”
“I told him to do that because that’sallIwant to give that”—he pauses, grits his teeth—“woman.”
Well done, Dad! You didn’t call her a bitch again. Bravo!
