He gestures sharply toward the car, toward Jasmine, who is now climbing out of the passenger seat, her face blotchy with tears and twisted with anger.
"She took a red Sharpie and wrote THIEF across Jasmine's dress. Ruined it. A custom cream silk dress that Jasmine wanted to wear for our cruise this spring."
Jasmine stalks around the front of the car, and I get a full view of the damage. The cream-colored dress is elegant, well fitted and clearly expensive. Well, it was. Now harsh red letters scrawl across the bodice like an accusation.
"Your daughter is a monster," Jasmine spits, her bubblegum-pink wings flaring behind her. "A spoiled, vindictive little monster. I've triedso hardto be nice to her, and this is how she repays me?"
A flicker of guilt stirs in my chest. Zoe went too far this time. But it's quickly smothered by anger as Jasmine keeps talking.
"I told Mitchell we should send her to boarding school. Somewhere with actual discipline." Jasmine's pink eyes narrow at me. "Clearly she's not getting any at home."
The words hit like ice water. My wings snap rigid against my back.
"Don't youdaretalk about my daughter that way."
Jasmine's lip curls. "Someone needs to. You're obviously too busy screwing the help to parent her properly."
For one blinding moment, I want to slap her. I want to grab her by her perfect pink curls and drag her off my property. But I don't. Because that's what she wants. A scene, ammunition, proof that I'm the unhinged ex-wife.
I won't give her the satisfaction.
"Get back in the car, Jasmine," I say, my voice deadly calm. "This is between Mitchell and me."
She opens her mouth to argue, but Mitchell cuts her off with a sharp gesture. "Jas. Get in the car."
Jasmine glares at me for another long moment, then stalks back to the passenger side, her heels clicking sharply on the pavement. She slams the door hard enough to rock the little sports car on its wheels.
For the first time since this entire fiasco started, I truly hate him. I didn’t hate him when he cheated the first time or the second time. I didn’t even hate him when he cheated on me with my best friend.
But this very second, I hate him.
Because Mitchell set this up. He pushed and pushed until Zoe broke. And now Jasmine wants to ship my daughter off to boarding school. Over my dead body.
I turn back to Mitchell, my voice hard. "You tried to force them into a family photo? With Jasmine? Mitchell, you left us six months ago. You can't just snap your fingers and expect them to pretend everything's fine."
My voice cracks slightly on the last word, but I don't let myself cry.
Never again. I will not shed another tear because of Mitchell Lark.
"This is your fault. You've poisoned them against me." Mitchell's expression goes cold and vicious. "Zoe has no respect for me or Jasmine because you encourage this behavior."
"I have never said a single bad word about you to those kids. Not one." My hands curl into fists at my sides. "Zoe is angry because you broke her heart, not because I told her to be."
Mitchell steps closer, his voice dropping to something cruel and cutting. From the corner of my eye, I see Noah move fromthe porch. If I wasn't so consumed by my anger for Mitchell, I would pay attention to the alarm bells ringing all over my head.
"You're a terrible mother, Rika. And it shows. Zoe's turning into a stuck-up little bitch just like you."
The words land on me with all the force of my years of unhappiness at this man's hands.
My breath catches. My vision blurs at the edges.
He keeps going, his gaze raking over my disheveled appearance with open contempt. His lip curls as he looks at Noah walking toward us.
“Look at you. You're old. You're cold. No man with any self-respect would ever want you unless you paid him to fuck you.” He pauses, then leans in to tower above me. “I bet that's what you did. You're paying this guy to fuck you because no one else will do it for free.”
The words echo in my head, mixing with all the things I've been telling myself for months.
You're not enough. You never were. You ruin everything you touch.
