“So, what are you going to do, then? Throw away eight good years over one stupid moment?” he asked. “Because that’s more telling of you than it is of me.”
As I closed my eyes, I replayed that moment in my head. That moment seven months ago when I had come home early from an out-of-town business meeting with a potential client. Excitement flushed its way through my veins as I eased up the driveway of our home, one we had purchased together as a pre-wedding gift to ourselves. A home we had marked every inch of with our bodies while we made love every single night for two months after our ceremony. A home I saw myself living in forever with Blake at my side while my graphic design career flourished and grew to new heights. And instead of walking inside to a happy husband, I walked inside to the sounds of something thumping against the wall.
With moans filtering down the stairs.
“How would you feel if you came home early to surprise me and found some other man balls’ deep between my legs, huh?” I asked breathlessly.
Blake’s grip tightened. “Don’t you dare turn this around on me. I’m not the one that filed for divorce and then left.”
My gaze shot up to his. “Then, don’t you turn this around on me. Not wanting to take responsibility for breaking a glass is cute. Not taking responsibility when you’ve broken your wife’s heart, however, isn’t. Now, let me go before I make you let me go.”
The anger behind his eyes startled me. What in the hell did he have to be angry about? I was the scorned wife! I was the one that walked in on him fucking someone else! What in the absolute hell was he pissed about?
Oh, that’s right—his motherfucking ego. He didn’t like the fact that I had filed for divorce without his knowledge. He didn’t like the fact that he had to find out through the grapevine from one of his buddies over lunch instead of from the wife he had cheated on in the first place. And ever since I had filed thirteen days ago, he had been dragging his feet in every aspect.
Blake’s grip finally loosened. “I’ll give you some time to cool off. I’m sure after some time has passed, you’ll come to see—”
I interrupted him, and it brought me great joy since I knew he hated that shit. “After some time has passed? We’ve been separated for six months, so consider this your final warning: if you don’t preview and start divorce negotiations, I’ll drag your ass into court.”
He chuckled. “You think you can beat me in a court of law?”
I shrugged. “It won’t be you who I’m up against. Last I checked, you’re not a divorce lawyer.”
His face fell flat. “I’m your husband. I should have earned more respect than this.”
“You would have, yes. You absolutely have, in fact. That is, until you slipped and fell into another woman’s vagina while I was gone on a business trip. You’re the one who threw this away, and I’ll be damned if you make me take the blame because you don’t want your reputation tarnished.”
“You don’t get to talk to me that way,” he growled.
A content smile slithered across my face. “Then, maybe you should have thought about that before fucking around with someone who’s not your wife.”
I knew what he wanted to do. He wanted to drag his feet in an attempt to intimidate me out of a divorce. But I wasn’t playing his kind of hardball. I wanted out of my marriage and away from him as quickly as I could get it, and nothing he’d say or do would ever change my mind.
I wanted Blake to be part of my past.
Because he certainly had no role in my future.
You knew something was wrong, though.
I closed my eyes as Blake removed his touch from around my wrist. He brushed past me, scoffing and murmuring beneath his breath as he stormed out of the kitchen. His patent leather shoes that he insisted on having tailor-made clicked against the freshly waxed hardwood floors before he bounded up the steps. He stomped above me like a child who had been refused access to a sucker before a slamming door echoed throughout the entire house.
And as I slumped against the kitchen counter, my head fell back.
“How did it get to this point?” I whispered.
The texting. Don’t tell me you didn’t see it.
I hated that voice in my head. The one that always reminded me of the red flags I ignored just to try and be happy. Blake always on his phone texting. The romance completely falling off after we got married. His attitude rearing its ugly head after seven years of him doting on me left and right, as if I were the queen of his universe. The second we got married, he turned into a completely different person. Acting like he didn’t have to continue working to keep up our relationship.
And I knew I deserved better than that.
There were always his defenses, of course. Every time I brought up the fact that we never went on our Friday night dates anymore, he always said, “It takes two clear schedules for a date to work.” Of course, I always cleared mine. But he always found something to fill his Friday nights, and then got upset with me whenever I became frustrated.
“Don’t you want our bills paid? Because it’s my job that does that.”
I ground my teeth together as his voice echoed off the corners of my brain.
“Always me, never him,” I murmured.
