Itake some vacation time from work this week, making the best use of it while Curtis is away, transforming the master bedroom into my ideal sanctuary. I completely gut the room, replacing all the furniture, repainting the walls a dusky pink, and installing the plush gray carpet I have always wanted. My new four-poster bed has flimsy white curtains and six-hundred-thread-count Egyptian cotton bed linen. The dazzling white sheets and pillowcases have a thin gray border running around the edge, and it’s crisp, fresh, and sophisticated. A myriad of pink, gray, and white cushions adorn the bed, contrasting beautifully with the gray-patterned drapes covering the window.
In the corner, I replaced the couch with a large white leather recliner and stacked white bookshelves around it. A tall reading lamp, some patterned cushions, and a mini refrigerator complete my new reading nook. Inspirational quotes in silver frames line the side wall, but I have purposely left the other wall free because I plan to buy one of Vander’s paintings to hang there.
I have plans to remodel the closet, and I want to install a dressing table with an LED mirror, but that will have to wait until after the holidays because I couldn’t find any contractors available to complete the job on such short notice, no matter how much of Curtis’s money I offered them.
A thick padlock is secured to the inside of the bedroom door, and I moved all of Curtis’s things to the guest bedroom. He can sleep there until he moves out next week. When Stella asked what was going on, I lied and said her daddy’s snoring was keeping me up at night and it’s best if we slept apart for now. I’m not sure if she bought it, and I hate lying to her, but my friends are right—there is no way I can continue to share a bed with a man I despise. I’m liable to strangle him in his sleep, and I’d rather not spend the rest of my life behind bars because Curtis Hawthorne isn’t worth it.
An evil grin creeps over my mouth every time I think of Curtis’s reaction when he returns home and sees what I have done. I am clinging to my anger now and using it to propel me into action. My despicable husband is not playing me any longer, and it’s time to redress the balance.
The results of my medical screening came back, and thankfully, I’m clean. It was so humiliating completing the form at my ob-gyn’s, especially since Dr. Leo is the doctor I went to when I was pregnant with Ridge. But I had to put my embarrassment aside and remember I’m not the one who looks like a piece of shit in this scenario. I won’t take any risks with my health, period, and I needed to know if Curtis had passed any diseases to me. At least that is one less thing to worry about.
The front door slams; there’s a loud thud in the hall and then the sounds of racing footsteps bounding up the stairs. Wiping my hands down the front of my apron, I check that I set the timer on the stove before stepping out into the hallway to investigate. Schools end early today because it’s Thanksgiving tomorrow and the start of a four-day, long weekend. I collected Ridge earlier, and I know he’s up in his bedroom playing X-box, so it’s either West or Stella who just came in. Spying the duffel bag dumped in the hall, I confirm it’s my son. He’s been in a bad mood all week, and I’ve been feeling guilty because of Saturday night. This is the exact scenario I was trying to avoid.
Vander has sent me a few text messages I haven’t replied to because I would rather speak to him in person. I half expected him to show up here, but he hasn’t. Things weren’t left on the best of terms with us, and I regret I was so angry with him. He shouldn’t have gone behind my back, and I was right to be mad at him for blatantly ignoring my wishes, but the photos were a game changer. They gave me some bargaining power, and he’s the reason I was able to instruct my attorney to draw up the divorce papers on Monday.
Pushing thoughts of Vander aside, for now, I head up the stairs to talk to my eldest son. “Knock, knock,” I say, peeking my head through his door. West is sprawled out on his bed, on his stomach, with a pillow over his head. Entering his room, I close the door and walk over to him. He removes the pillow from his head as I perch on the edge of the bed. I ruffle his hair as he twists onto his side, looking at me with a helpless expression. “You know I’m here if you want to talk, and a problem shared—”
“Is a problem halved,” he finishes for me. “Grandma Reed was a smart woman. I wish I got the chance to know her.”
My mom died when West was three, and he doesn’t remember her or my father, who passed a year later. My parents had me when they were in their forties, and I was their only child. Growing up a rebellious teenager in that household was a strange experience, but Mom was always full of wisdom and never quick to judge. I miss her every day. “Me too, son. She would have loved you.” My parents would have been in their late seventies now if Mom hadn’t died of breast cancer and a drunk driver hadn’t mowed my father down and killed him.
“Women are so confusing.” West sighs, flopping on his back and staring at the ceiling.
“Tell me what’s troubling you.” I pull my legs up onto the bed and prop my back against the headrest.
West pulls himself upright to sit alongside me, and I wait for him to continue. “Hazel and I had a fight.”
I hate I have to pretend I didn’t know. “Do you want to tell me about it?”
He angles his head, and his big blue eyes stare at me. “Promise not to get mad?”
I cup his handsome face, brushing wayward strands of his dirty-blond hair off his forehead. “When have you known me to get mad at you?” I work hard to never lose my temper with the kids or ever raise my voice. I’m not saying I’m a saint. There have been occasions where I’ve lost it, but it’s not the norm.
“You flipped out that time I was hitting golf balls in the backyard and broke the kitchen window.”
“You scared the shit out of me, West. If I hadn’t ducked in time, it could have seriously injured me.”
“True.” A mischievous grin dances across his mouth.
I smile as I remember him as a little boy. He was constantly getting into mischief, and I could always tell by the naughty grin on his face. “If you need to discuss something serious, we can discuss it like adults.” I rub his cheek before dropping my hand to my lap. “You’re going to be eighteen next week.” Tears stab my eyes, but they are happy, nostalgic tears this time. “I can’t believe you’re all grown up.” Leaning in, I kiss his brow. “I hope you know how proud I am of you. Every day, I count my blessings I have you for a son.”
“Ditto, Mom.” He wraps his arms around me. “I always knew you were the best, but when I look at what Van has to deal with, I know it for sure.”
“Yeah.” I sigh as we ease out of our embrace. “Poor Vander doesn’t have it easy.”
“Oh, by the way, he told me to tell you they’ll be here tomorrow. Him and Diana.”
I had assumed when I didn’t hear anything it meant they weren’t coming. I will have more than enough food, so it’s not that big of a deal, but I don’t want things to be awkward. Things are already going to be tense as hell without adding another source of tension. I decide to go over and see him tonight to make amends. “Oh, good.”
“Thank you for inviting them.” West rests his head back and takes my hand in his. “I see how you have tried to help him over the years, and that speaks volumes about the kind of person you are.” He eyeballs me with a glint in his eye. “Does Dad know Diana will be joining us?”
“I’ll tell him when he gets home later.” He won’t be in the best mood after getting served with divorce papers today and then discovering I’ve moved all of his things to one of the spare bedrooms. He can’t stand Diana Henley, and I can’t wait to bury the knife in deeper. “Now, tell me what’s going on. Is everything okay with you and Hazel?”
His Adam’s apple jumps in his throat. He bites on his lower lip as he stares at me. “We had a pregnancy scare.”
My heart lurches to my toes and back up to my head before going for another spin. I’m not sure what he sees on my face, but it’s enough to warrant reassurance.
He squeezes my hand. “It’s okay. It was a false alarm. Hazel isn’t pregnant.”
