She gets it, but she doesn’t.
If it was just about coming, I’d continue what I’ve been doing. I have no issue bringing myself to orgasm, it’s just I wanted more. So so much more.
She tips back her drink and her eyes go wide.
“Oh, fuck,” she hisses, and my brows furrow as she looks at me. “Kate, I’m so sorry,” she says.
A stroller pushes past us and I look down, only to glance up and see my ex-husband, his fiancée—sorry, new wife—and their child, age unclear.
“Kate,” Will says, glancing between me and Chelsea.
I say nothing.
“Chelsea, did you hear something?” I ask, and she laughs.
“Uh, maybe I heard an adulterous motherfucker trying to speak?”
“Kate,” he says in a more stern voice and I glance over at him and his new wife, who’s a decade his junior.
I still hate her, hate him, and honestly, as much as it pains me, I hate their stupid baby, too. It isn’t its fault that it was created during my marriage, and I wouldn’t ever be purposefully mean to a child, but it’s my right to loathe them all.
I’m glad to not be married to him. My life is honestly better. Doesn’t mean I don’t hold space to hate him and his new family. He could have ended things with me before cheating, especially before getting someone pregnant.
“Why don’t you take Danger to the table, baby,” he says to his wife.
I have to suck my lips into my mouth before belting with laughter. Chelsea doesn’t help the situation as her mouth gapes open like a fish.
He named his kid Danger.
“Kate, I was hoping we could talk about the shares,” he says. “My lawyer has been trying to contact you.”
Yes, he has, and I’ve promptly told him to fuck himself in every way possible. I even pulled out my Synonym Finder from college so that every response was different enough, but packed just the right amount of punch.
“Come on, you still can’t be bitter,” he says.
Bitter.
The word makes me want to throat punch him and then pull his wife’s hair. Instead, I blink at him, not saying a word, turning back to Chelsea.
“Hey, Chels?”
“Yes, Kate?”
“Do you remember that time I used a big chunk of my trust fund to start my ex-husband’s business and my lawyer wisely advised me to hold on to fifty-five percent of the company when doing so in case anything were to happen? Like, I don’t know, he went through a midlife crisis and got his young side piece pregnant?”
Chelsea holds up a finger. “You know, I do remember that. Well, if you got divorced, it would really suck for him that you wisely also had him sign a prenup. You could single-handedly ruin his company.”
Was I petty and ruthless for holding these shares over his head? Absolutely, and I got enjoyment out of it.
Especially when he looked down at me red faced and pissed off.
“Kate, this isn’t fucking funny anymore. I have a family now.”
Well, that felt like my stomach plummeting to the fucking ground. At one point, Will was the only family I had, and he knew that. He knew how important his family was to me, and now they no longer existed in my life. The moment Will was done with me, so was his family. It was a low blow, and he wanted it to hurt.
I always thought that if I ended up divorced, I’d be mature and civil. I was absolutely wrong. I kinda wanted to ruin his life. I could be over him, want nothing to do with him, while also wanting to make him suffer. My therapist didn’t quite agree, but Janet wasn’t the end all be all of morality.
“I think you should really watch how you speak to the majority shareholder of Dennis Commercial,” Chelsea says, pointing a perfectly manicured nail in his direction.
