The words landed like stones. She looked around her house and pressed her fingers against her forehead.
“Fine. Thanks for nothing.” She ended the call and stumbled through her home into the living room.
The nanny, Petra, was going to drop the kids off in a few hours, and Giselle had no idea what to say to them. Sinking into the couch, she leaned forward, and surprisingly, her phone rang again. It was Malcolm again.
“Giselle, he’s already filed for dissolution of partnership to the design company. Assets are frozen until review. I don’t know if you have something set aside, but the house is even in his name. Everything will be seized and sold.”
“So, it’s over?”
“I’m sorry.” Empathy laced Malcolm’s tone, but his hands were tied.
Once she hung up, Giselle peered around her living room. The silence was deafening. She tossed the phone on the table and grabbed her laptop from the shelf under the coffee table. Flipping it open, she immediately pulled up an internet search.Southwick, Kansas rentals.She didn’t have time to dwell or feel sorry. With her personal accounts, she had at least twenty thousand saved. It was enough to cover a deposit and couple months’ rent on a place for her and the kids until she got a job. She couldn’t believe Alonzo left her busted like this, knowing she had two kids to take care of. The more she typed and scrolled, the angrier she became.
Suddenly, all those red flags she ignored were popping up all over her radar. The late nights, him being overly friendly with Esti at business parties. Her always in his office when Giselle would swing by. When he had business dinners before, he would take Giselle to seal the deal, then it became Esti, and he left her at home with the kids. Their sex life had slowed down, too, but she didn’t have much of a sex drive after having the twins. It became all about them and making sure they had everything they needed. Her priorities shifted, and Alonzo lowkey seemed resentful of her becoming a mother sometimes. The only time he fucked with the twins was when he was using them to make himself look good.
After finding a few potential places, she closed her laptop and searched for her notepad and pen. In her neatest handwriting, she compiled a list of things she needed to do. Sell jewelry. Close the lease on the design building. Withdraw any and everything from personal accounts. Southwick. Call Remi. That last part of the list was going to take more strength than she could muster. The turn she took with that fork in the road only led her to moredisaster, but she had to keep herself together for the two best things in her life.
NINE
GOOD, BAD, & UGLY
Two weeks. Her life didn’t resemble anything close to what she’d envisioned at this point. With a coffee mug full of merlot, Giselle surveyed her living room, resting a hand on her hip. Without the chaos from the twins, the house felt hollow. It was their last day of daycare. She planned to break the news to them tonight, although they’d been asking questions about all the boxes. She kept putting them off and saying she was getting rid of some things.
Every step across the bare living room floors echoed through the house. Boxes lined the hallway, mostly packed. Half-packed and half abandoned. Giselle had ADHD when it came to getting everything together. She didn’t have one friend. Everyone in Leawood had suddenly gone Ray Charles to her and her troubles, saying it was her fault.
After swallowing the last of the wine, she moved methodically through the home. In high waisted skinny jeans, a maroon v neck top, and a matching orange and maroon cardigan swinging behind her, she folded clothes that smelled like someone else’s life. Silk blouses she would never wear again, and handbags that suddenly looked absurd to her current situation. Pausing in the doorway of the kids’ room, she examined thetwo backpacks ready for their road trip embroidered with their names. Heir and Harlee.
The only item in the room that had been left out was a framed photo of her with the twins and Alonzo taken when they were about a year old. His hand rested on her waist, and she glowed with a big grin along with the twins in matching outfits. Studying it for a beat, she turned the frame face down. It wasn’t going with her.
The doorbell chimed and she headed downstairs to answer.
“Good morning. I’m looking for a Giselle Maynard,” he announced, gripping a thick envelope against his scrawny little chest.
“I’m Giselle.”
“From Mr. Maynard’s legal office, ma’am.”
Giselle signed without a word and ripped into the envelope before he was even off her doorstep. Inside, she found custody paperwork, along with a formal notice that the house and cars were in Alonzo’s name, all but her Aston Martin. Nothing personal. Just signatures. Son-of-a-bitch. By the time the twins got home, the boxes had been sealed, and Giselle had decided what she was taking with her. When Petra dropped them off, she sent her with one last check and thanked her for taking care of them but informed her the services would no longer be needed.
The car was loaded with everything she could fit, and the plan was to take off with the twins first thing in the morning. When the pizza arrived, so did a phone call from Remi. With Harlee and Heir settled in the living room, watching cartoons, Giselle gathered the box, a bunch of napkins, and their sippy cups so they could enjoy one last night in what used to be their home.
“Hello.” She left the phone resting between her ear and shoulder.
“Just making sure you haven’t changed your mind.”
“Looking forward to reading me the riot act?” Giselle mocked, carrying the pizza box down the hall to the living room with everything else stacked on top of it.
“Be careful on the road. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Goodnight, Remi.” Giselle hung up while entering the living room.
Both kids had gathered their pillows and favorite blankets and toys.
“Who is ready for some pizza?”
“Me!” Heir and Harlee squealed together.
Giselle handed them both a plate, and they sat up, watching her as she gave them each a big slice.
