What? But we’re married. “Your intern?”
“She’s very mature for her age.” Darrel stuffs the suits in the bag and then moves to his dressers.
How can anyone be mature at eighteen?
“I don’t want to make a big deal out of this. We didn’t work out. You couldn’t give me the son that I wanted…And Sophia’s pregnant.” He dumps a pile of neatly folded and ironed underwear into his bag.
Pregnant. “With your child?”
“Who else’s would it be?”
Literally anyone else’s but my husband’s.
“Yes, Greer, it’s mine. That’s why we’re getting married. I always knew you were a little simple. Look, everything is taken care of. The paperwork is on the bed. Sign it, and we’re divorced. I was generous with you even though I didn’t need to be because of our prenup. I even signed away all rights to the embryos that we have frozen, if you want to try again. Though it’s pointless. You’re barren, and you need to accept that.” He drops another armload of clothes into the bag.
“You thought of everything.” My brain feels like it’s spinning. All I can keep thinking about is if she’s going to iron his clothes for him.
“That’s what I do. That’s why I make the big money. My father told me I shouldn’t marry you. But all I saw was your family connections and money. It didn’t hurt that you were hot. He was right, though, you were a waste of time and energy. I needed someone younger to give me children.”
We were fresh out of college when we got married. How young did you want? A child, obviously.
“Are you going to give me any hassles?” Darrel zips the bag, closing the book on our marriage.
Though it was closed a long time ago. I just didn’t know it. “No.” Why would I want to stay a moment longer with a man like you? “Go marry your intern. Be happy.” Far away from me.
“You’ve always been an accommodating woman. No hard feelings.”
If I could feel anything, I would ask Winnie to take care of you. But you’re not worth it. “No, no hard feelings.”
Darrel hefts the overly full bags onto his thin shoulders and almost topples over. “Bye, Greer.” He walks out of the penthouse.
“Bye, Darrel. By the way, I’m pregnant.” I drop the test on the bed next to the divorce papers.
The Spinsters’ Club
Greer
There’s snow in the air. I can’t wait for it to start coming down. Watching the snow fall from the window is one of those peaceful moments of my life. But even though I can smell it, the weatherman says the snow won’t start until tomorrow.
What would it be like watching flakes fall on the way into Silent Valley?
Driving through the small town Cordelia lives in is like being transported to a whole different world. For all my adult life, I’ve lived in Urbium. The constant energy always seemed to give the city life.
But that life is frenetic and sometimes angry. It holds so many memories, and none of them are good. Could I stand living in a small town like Cordelia? It certainly feels like a nice place to raise a child. There’s a festival of some sort being set up in the town square.
Kids are running around as adults set the stuff up.
Their parents aren’t hyper-vigilantly worrying about them. Nor are there dozens of nannies. They’re just kids playing.
What would it be like for a child to grow up like that?
I’d always understood that our children would be raised exactly like I was, like my mother was, and her mother beforeher. Darrel’s life was the same minus attending boarding school. He followed a private school to an Ivy League path.
My car pulls up in front of Cordelia’s house, which is more like an old Victorian mansion. It looks odd now that her gardeners covered everything with heated protective cloths to avoid damage from the freezing weather.
Only Cordelia would think this is totally normal.
“Should I wait here for you?” my driver asks as he pulls to a stop.
