“Why’s that? Is everything okay?”
I swiped my index finger under my eye and then pressed my palm to my cheeks, feeling the blush that still stained my face from the earlier outburst.
“Oh yes. All is well. Great. Brilliant, even.” I squeezed my eyes closed, refusing to let the anger break through and ruin my finally calm mood.
“I call bullshit.”
Bev picked up Tito, who flipped onto his back, exposing his belly and demanding scratches. Port followed, and I sat up to rub her stomach, smiling at how a five-pound ball of fluff could help release such a pleasing rush of endorphins through my body.
“Yeah, it is bullshit, but I don’t want to burden you with my issues.”
“You wouldn’t be. Sometimes another opinion makes you see things in a different light.”
“Perhaps.”
“I know we’ve only spoken a handful of times, but I think that’s all the more reason for you to get an unbiased viewpoint.”
Bev remained quiet for several minutes, giving me time to gather my thoughts, and I wondered just how far down the rabbit hole I should fall. The barest of details would be the best option, but the destructive force of my anger at seeing that photo made me want to shout from the rooftops at how I wasted twelve perfectly good years of my life on a man who couldn’t be bothered to keep his dick to himself.
“I’m divorced in all but name. It’s been uncontested, thank goodness. He has until next week to dispute, and then it will all be over. After what he did, he promised he’d at least make things easy for me. We’ve been separated for over a year, and I thought I’d worked through all the nonsense that comes with ending a marriage.”
Bev hummed, grabbing the towel from her shoulder and letting Port wrestle with it until she grew tired and turned in a circle before settling into the grass.
“I don’t miss him, and I don’t want him. Especially since the reason for our divorce was me walking in on him sleeping with his secretary.”
Tito joined his sister on the grass, wrapping his slightly bigger body around hers and snuggling closer. Bev shook her head, patting my shoulder, then took her phone from her pocket and snapped a picture of the sleeping puppies. She tilted the phone toward me, and I smiled before glancing at the sky to keep a tear from escaping. I refused to cry anymore over that stupid man—and it was time my eyeballs got the memo.
“This morning, I saw a picture on Facebook of them announcing her pregnancy. We’d talked about kids, you know, but he never wanted them, so I let it go. We were happy, or so I thought. It turns out, he just never wanted kids with me. And that’s been a tough pill to swallow.”
The soft grass welcomed me into its fold as I lay back down, throwing an arm over my eyes as the words left my mouth and drifted around the large, welcoming yard.
“Want me to key his car?”
I snorted, choking on air and patting my chest as Bev snickered. She reached over and grasped my knee, squeezing gently as I moved my arm and opened one eye to glance her way.
“Not today. But I’ll absolutely give you carte blanche to do your worst if I don’t have a signed divorce decree in hand next week…” I shrugged and smirked, knowing how much I’d enjoy seeing that man suffer a little. “With what you and Dad get up to, I can’t even imagine what would happen to someone you dislike.”
“Oh, Summer. If I truly wanted to make someone suffer, I’d just tell my sons. The banter I have with Cam pales in comparison to the jokes they play on each other.”
“I don’t doubt that,” I said, sitting up with a groan and pulling my knees to my chest. Tito assumed my movement meant it was play time again, and he growled, going down to two paws and sticking his cute little puppy butt in the air.
“Have you thought about dating? They say the best way to get over someone is to get under someone new?”
“Ha!” My bark of laughter startled Port, who twitched her head and yawned before scooting a little closer to Bev’s side and falling back asleep. “I’m definitely over the prat, so there’s no need for that. And honestly, I can’t remember the last time I shaved my legs, so it’s best I stay out of the dating circuit for a little while longer.”
“I don’t know. I remember how my late husband was after his hip was replaced. I can’t even imagine the work of caring for someone who had a heart bypass. A date might be nice.”
“If by nice you mean stressing me the heck out with what to wear, how to act, where to go… Then sure, it sounds nice.”
I blinked as a cloud shaped like a slice of deep-dish pizza passed over us, wondering if she had a point. Would the constant stress of caring for Dad disappear if I went on a date? “Sorry. I didn’t mean to sound snippy.”
“Don’t sweat it. After seeing that photo this morning, you’re allowed to sound however the hell you want to.”
“Thank you. It’s been difficult to talk to Dad lately. He has so much pent-up anger about his surgery and the restrictions on his diet and movement. It’s been a tough few weeks.”
“Are you an only child?”
“Oh, no. I have two sisters, but they both live out of state. They were here when he had the operation…”
