Willow is grieving. Not just any grief—she's carrying the weight of losing her father, the biggest loss she will ever face. Watching her today, seeing her do something she used to do with him, catching those tiny, fleeting smiles when I let her help, or when we talked about my family… It was heartbreaking and beautiful all at once.
I've let her isolate herself, thinking she needs space, but it's obvious that being alone isn't what she needs. She needs people who care, people who will be there, and I’m not letting her forget that.
I’m probably the last person she would want to talk to, and that's fine. I can live with that. However, today she looked at me with something other than hatred—just for a second, but it was enough.
I like watching the fire in her eyes when she snaps at me, the way her thoughts tumble out of her like she can't hold them back, the soft flush creeping over her pale cheeks when she realises she's embarrassed herself after a compliment. I can't stop noticing. Every little thing hits me in ways I didn't expect, and I don't know what to do with these thoughts.
River is staying at a friend's house tonight, which is a good thing because his mum is due home, and I don't want him here when I rip her a new one and hand her the divorce papers.
I’m sitting on the couch, the lights off and just the glow of the TV shining in the room. I’m on my second bottle of beer, tapping it as I switch through channels until I finally hear the front door shut. The anxiety about the impending storm that is Rose is coming off me in waves, and even though there is a flutter of excitement that I will be free, I know she won't take this lightly. I know she doesn't love me, but loves the lifestyle I provide, which is why she will hold on as tight as she can and drag this out for as long as possible. Once again, I am wondering what I ever saw in her.
I hear the front door open and then slam shut with an echoing thud, and a sheen of sweat breaks out.
She's home.
Within seconds, she appears in the doorway, dressed up like always, with too much makeup and hair scraped back. For someone who has just been on a spa break, she doesn't look like it.
“Hi, baby, did you miss me?” she asks sweetly, walking over to me with a smile that I just want to wipe off her face.
God, I must have been blind all these years because I can't remember why I ever loved this woman. Why did I ruin my friendship with Leon for her?
“I missed you.” She plants her manicured hand on the arm of the couch and leans in for a kiss. I move the bottle to my lips and take mouthfuls of my drink, looking right at her as her eyes narrow with annoyance, and she purses her lips.
“Well, that was rude.”
I shove the empty bottle into her hand. “Do you know what was rude? You vanish for two weeks just as Willow comes to live with us.”
She blinks, clearly not expecting that. “She’s a big girl, Elijah. She can take care of herself.”
I grip the armrest. “You didn't even congratulate our son after his game.”
She steps back with a scoff. “He knows I’m proud of him.”
I rise slowly until I’m towering over her. “And what about telling Willow she'd be out on the streets if she didn't get a job?”
"She really needs to find a job. Since she moved in, I've heard that all she's been doing is getting drunk and sleeping with random men. It reflects poorly on me, and I can't have that."
Unfuckingbelievable.
“Do you hear yourself? She just lost her father, and all you care about is how her grief inconveniences you.”
“It affects us as a family—”
“Oh, you care about your family now?” I cut in, pinching the bridge of my nose. “You didn't give a shit about family when I caught you with the postman's cock in your mouth. Or when those two lads were using you like the whore you are.”
Slap.
My head snaps to the side, but I laugh when I look back at her.
“I am your wife,” she says tightly. “You don't speak to me like that.”
“Not for much longer.”
I turn, yank open the drawer, and grab the papers. I take the bottle from her hand and replace it with the divorce forms.
“We. Are. Done.”
Her eyes skim the page, then harden. “You're divorcing me?”
