“Oh, and I think he gave a Corvette to his new lady friend,” I said, cursing myself for sounding like my dearly departed grandmother.
Paloma looked up with an arched eyebrow and then went back to flipping through pictures. She got to the ones of Mitch with Tabitha. “I have to tell you, the state of Georgia doesn’t care if he cheated on you.”
“I know,” I said softly. “I mean, obviously, I care.”
“And have you been dating anyone?”
“No.”
There was just enough hesitation in my voice for her to skewer me with a glare, but a part of me knew that kissing Parker would not be good. I’d seen as much in my mother’s eyes, and I wasn’t in the mood for a lecture considering we’d done the right thing and put an end to whatever we were doing before we could even start.
“Vivian, it’s better to tell me now.”
“Well, there was a thing, but we put a stop to the thing because I’m still married.”
“A thing.”
“Some serious chemistry with my next-door neighbor.”
“Ah. But you’re not dating?”
“No. We’re going to wait until after the divorce is final.”
“Good.”
That settled, Paloma rattled off the demands she was going to make and addressed some of Mitch’s things she thought we should concede and others she thought not. I agreed with her almost completely because I mainly wanted him to go away. I just wanted this divorce so I could start over.
Tears threatened, but I shoved my feelings into the mental chest of drawers in the back of my mind. Truth be told, the drawers to my mental chest were getting as hard to close as Mitch’s old sock drawer,but my feelings needed to stay there until this was all over. Then, and only then, would I take a week or two to wallow and examine my emotions more closely.
“Okay, I think we’re on the same page,” Paloma said. “Let’s see if we can get this taken care of through mediation and avoid court.”
I held up crossed fingers and pasted on a fake smile.
A part of me wished Mom had come with me, but then again, Independent Woman Vivian was going to have to learn to deal with all of this on her own. I couldn’t go running to my mommy, not at this age.
But I did want my mommy.
We went to the conference room down the hall and took our seats with ten minutes to spare before the meeting. I took in a shaky breath, knowing I was paying for that extra time. Even so, I had to agree with Paloma that it was important to get there first. It was a power play of sorts.
Mitch and his lawyer, Ashley, an impossibly tall redheaded woman, came strolling in at five minutes ’til. He refused to meet my gaze.
Paloma and Ashley started going over our demands. There was a lot of “my client” this and “my client” that.
At first I almost drifted off; these were the small things. Mitch’s lawyer was capitulating on most of them after only a little fuss. Then, she dropped a bombshell:
“My client believes we should revisit selling the house since his wife is having an affair with a neighbor.”
“I am not!”
Paloma put a hand on my arm.
Then Ashley spread out pictures: us sitting on the swing behind the clubhouse in the moment when I thought we might kiss but didn’t, then a picture taken through my glass storm door of last night’s goodbye kiss. No doubt there.
Paloma’s hand tightened on my arm as she froze, but she said nothing and her expression gave nothing away.
My face burned hot, pulse pounding at my temples.
Mitch leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest, giving me an ugly smirk of triumph.
