“Why?”
“Well, because.”
“’Because’ is an answer you offer a two-year-old to appease the why question,” she said, her tone dry. “I’m not a-two-year old.”
“All right,” I snapped. “Forget it. We’ll get the divorce you want.”
“The divorce we both agreed to. Remember?”
“Fine.”
Irritated, not bothering to hide it, I drove toward the trendy downtown area and Roxanne’s house. Hayley wanted her clothes and possessions she’d left behind when she came with me. She said nothing more until I parked at the curb. She opened the truck’s door and hopped out.
“I won’t be long,” she said. “I’ll just grab my things.”
I also jumped from the cab. “I know. I’m going with you.”
“You don’t need to.”
“Of course, I do,” I grumbled. “Medusa might be in there.”
“Are you afraid she’ll turn me into stone?”
“Nope.” I walked with her to the front door. “I’m afraid she might hit you with one.”
Roxanne, aka Medusa, stood in her foyer with her bejeweled hands on her hips, scowling. “I told you not to come back.”
“I need my stuff.”
“The picture of that damn cat?” Roxanne sniffed. “I should have ripped it up.”
Hayley rounded her shoulders, her face lowered, as she tried to sidestep Medusa. That obvious cringe, when I know damn well she’s capable of showing her strong side, made me angrier than ever. I paced just behind her, matching Medusa’s scowl.
“You’re still fucking him, then?” Roxanne smiled with malice. “He won’t marry you, dearie. He’s not the marrying kind.”
I stopped, and halted Hayley with my hand on her arm. “As a matter of fact,” I said sweetly, “wearemarried. Two days ago.”
“What?”
Roxanne snatched a rapid glance at our ringless fingers. “No, you didn’t.”
“We did indeed,” I said, smiling.
“Impossible.”
“Didn’t you tell me to make my own luck and marry a wealthy man?” Hayley asked, also smiling. “So I did.”
“Bitch,” Roxanne snarled. “Where is your wedding ring?”
“I don’t need one,” Hayley answered. “We’re married in the eyes of the law and the gods. And goddesses.”
“You’re so stupid. Only a man who’s more stupid than you would marry you.”
As tempted as I was to smack Medusa into next week, I merely urged Hayley forward with my hand at the small of her back. “Get your things.”
Obeying me, she headed for the stairs and vanished up them. I eyed Roxanne with intense dislike. “You must really hate yourself.”
“That’s absurd,” she snapped. “I don’t hate myself.”
