“Alright. I can happily say, this is not marital property either, and if he tried to claim any of it, he’d look like a fool. I would also like to recommend a prenup if you everdoget remarried. It protects both parties if they’re fair.” I just nodded, and we went to print.
The pages were printing at her office, ready and waiting for her first thing Monday morning. I felt a strange calm blanket me, like the anger, pain, and disappointment were right under the surface, but I was determined. That was a feeling I didn’t think would come out so soon, but I was happy it was there. That meant I wasn’t completely broken. I wasn’t completely shattered and would be able to glue myself back together.
I feel like I just needed more glitter and bows.
“What do I tell people?” I quietly asked, mainly to myself, but was slightly hopeful that someone else sitting around my temporary room would have some sort of sage advice or bits of wisdom for me to help guide my next moves.
“You can tell them the truth. And as long as you don’tshowthe sex tape, you should be fine,” Amber said, with the shrug of one shoulder and the flick of her wrist. The confidence she oozed was something I wanted to have one day. It was like a superpower.
I want to have those one day.
“I’m going to tell our families and friends today. After you guys leave. How soon can the divorce papers be served? Do I have to wait until Monday?” I asked, curious, but also feeling like I wanted to be able to speak my truth. Without having to worry about Caleb’s reaction.
“We have to file them with the courts, so itdoeshave to be some time after we file Monday morning to serve him. I can be there waiting on the courthouse steps at eight a-m.” Amber tipped up an eyebrow and I smirked.
“Can we serve both of them right after their HR meeting that morning? Deliver his divorce and her lawsuit?” I felt a bit of evil, a bit of petty, flaring low in my stomach. “Maybe I could make my own musical card and it’s just the sounds of them fucking when they open it. Or the clip where they were calling each other names right before the grand finale,” I tapped my finger on my chin, “Maybe I want a marching band there too, or a circus. Like a few clowns and a hyena. I kind of want to make a huge show of it.”
Just to be a bitch.
“And if you have to settle for him just, having them delivered right after the HR meeting?” Amber asked, looking amused at my inner monologue that spilled out of me moments before. I scoffed, and had a small smile on my face.
“I just want him to feel the same humiliation I felt. Because now? I’m a cold kind of angry. And I just wish he would have taken me out of his shit show before it erupted in his face.”
Amber nodded, as she and her assistant picked up all of the paperwork, making their way toward the door. Mr. Westwood was discussing a few things with Eddie in the hallway already, the two of them spending most of the evening chatting away.
My first call after I curled up on the bed was to my parents to fill them in on what Eddie hadn’t yet. They told me they were already waiting at the airport, boarding had just started for their flight that was about to take off in twenty minutes.
The next call I had to make was going to hurt, and I knew it was going to hurt his mother more. Caleb’s mother always loved me, always doted on me, made sure I felt included in everything to do with their family. She had always wanted a daughter, and she said that was me once I married Caleb. She loved our connection and insisted that I call her mom.
The phone rang twice before she answered.
Let’s get this heartbreak started.
Chapter Fourteen:
Caleb’s POV
I had gone home Sunday morning after accidentally falling asleep at Becky’s apartment last night, and for some irritating reason, Frank tried to stop me. When I finally made it past him, small thank you to Mrs. Malone from 5B, my keys didn’t fucking work. Looking through squinted eyes, the blindingly bright apartment hallway seemed to be playing tricks on me. There, I saw something off that I couldn’t quite place.
There was a lock with a keypad on our front door that looked slightly different than what I remembered being there previously. None of the ways I tried to get into the flat had worked. Key code, keys, finger print? After a few minutes of trying unsuccessfully to gain entry into my own home, I saw Emilia rushing down the hallway with her arms full of what looked like take away containers. Straight for my apartment. I was thankful for half a second, thinking she’d let me in so I could shower and check on my wife.
She brushed past me, knocking into my shoulder and speeding inside, immediately slamming the door in my face. I stood there, fucking flabbergasted for a few moments.
Did she really just slam the door in my face?
I mean, I knew Devin was probably pissed about me staying out super late, way later than planned. Basically all night. But this was the first time it happened! She couldn’t be too pissed at me. And her changing the locks on me?! That felt like ahugeoverreaction. She would have had to call one of the overnight guys and they were expensive, something she never would have splurged on.
I left after knocking for a few minutes. Now, I was back. It had been several hours and she was being so petty that she wouldn’t even answer the door when I was knocking, and neither would her friends. It was ridiculous and starting to get close to evening, dinner time was finally here.
I’d been out all day after leaving Becky’s bed. I tried to come home, and she wouldn’t let me in. Then I left and tried to do some holiday shopping, grabbed groceries. And the whole day, I hadn’t heard a single peep from my wife. Not a single text, call, email.
All fucking day.
Instead of sulking and basking in the frustration at her tantrum, I’d been walking around the park the last hour, trying to clear my head. I wanted to go back into my life without the visions of last night dancing in my head, so I could face my wife with as little guilt as possible. But her attitude and sass was not helping the situation.
I’d wanted to get Becky all the way the fuck out of my system last night, but fucking every way we did? Everywherewe did it?! The prospect of getting caught? The very thought had me getting hard again. And, the secrecy of it all? It was such a high, a rush,a thrillthat addedanotherlayer of excitement to all of the fucking we did. It was definitely one I was tempted to do again, because, fuck it was all so hot. She knew how to work a dick! That mouth? That tight little asshole? That perfect pussy? Knowing literally anyone could have seen us? The rush to not get caught when we heard someone getting closer to where we were fucking? It made me feel so hot, so exciting, it made it all that much more taboo and hot. Fuck it was hot!
But.
