Page 3 of Big Girl Panties

He pushed off the bed, pulled off his wedding ring with the ceremony of someone removing a Band-Aid, and dropped it on the nightstand. The small clink sounded like the period at the end of a very long, very boring sentence.

"It was never my intention to hurt you, Brooke, but the truth was weighing on me. Now that it's out there, it will be better because you'll be able to work on yourself, and I'll be able to get what I need."

I walked over to the nightstand, looking down at his ring like it was evidence at a crime scene. "You have a good time tonight." I forced a smile as I slid off my wedding ring and dropped it beside his with a satisfying clink. "We'll talk again tomorrow."

But as I said it, I was already mentally calculating how long it would take to pack, how much a security deposit would be, and whether my best friend Davina still had that air mattress.

Tomorrow, I would tell him again that I wanted a divorce and that I'd be moving out faster than he could say open marriage.

But tonight? Tonight, I was going out to celebrate. Not to mourn the death of my marriage, but to celebrate the birth of whatever came next.

After all, I had a feeling my story was just getting started.

Chapter 1

Divorce Day Blues

6 months later…

My life was a beautiful disaster.

A gorgeous, chaotic, "What the hell am I doing?" kind of disaster.

In six months, I'd gone from married café manager to divorced café owner, from suburban housewife to apartment dweller with a judgmental cat named Karen who somehow managed to roll her eyes better than any human I knew.

My debt was higher than my hopes, my income was lower than my expectations, and my social life consisted entirely of Karen's disapproving stares and my best friend Davina's increasingly creative attempts to drag me back into the dating world.

Davina cut the engine. "You look like you're about to throw up on my dashboard."

I pressed my forehead against the cool window, watching the courthouse steps shimmer in the Florida heat. "Maybe I am. Do you have any of those little bags?"

"Brooklyn Marie Wallace, you are not throwing up on divorce day. I just had this car detailed." She twisted in her seat to face me, her blonde hair catching the sunlight streaming through the windshield. Despite the humidity that had already started to frizz my hair, her perfectly applied red lipstick somehow remained intact.

At barely five-foot-two, Davina had always been petite and curvy, but what she lacked in height, she made up for in fierce determination. Her warm brown eyes narrowed as she studied me with the intensity of someone who'd known me long enough to read every micro-expression. "Second thoughts?"

"Third, fourth, and fifth thoughts. I'm basically having a thought convention in here." I tapped my temple.

Chris had been calling and texting every day since I'd walked away, a relentless campaign of voicemails that ranged from apologetic to manipulative to downright ridiculous. Yesterday's gem had been a three-minute rambling message about how he'd changed and wanted to work on us, followed immediately by another voicemail asking if I could speak with my father because he was going to lose his promotion.

The man didn't want this divorce, but he also didn't want me. He wanted his promotion.

"Talk to me, Brooke. What's rattling around in that beautiful head of yours?"

I lifted my head from the window and slumped back into my seat. "I'm second-guessing everything. What if he's right? What if I'm just…" I gestured vaguely at myself.

"Stop." Davina's voice cut through my spiral. "Don't you dare finish that sentence with his words." She reached over and grabbed my hands. "Brooke, you deserve someone who thinks the sun rises and sets with you. Someone who brings you coffee the way you like it without being asked. Someone who doesn't make you feel like you're auditioning for the role of wife in your own marriage."

I knew everything she was saying was true; my logical brain was nodding along like a bobblehead. But my scared-as-hell heart was doing an interpretive dance in my chest.

"You will meet someone, Brooke. Someone who deserves you."

That I wasn't sure about, Chris had spent every day since I left him crafting a carefully orchestrated campaign to convince me that I'd peaked with him. That he was my lottery ticket to happiness, and if I gave him this freedom to figure himself out, he'd come back as the husband of my dreams. All I had to do was ignore his infidelities and keep quiet about them, at least until after he made partner.

The manipulation was so smooth it almost felt like kindness.

"I should probably get in there before they give away our spot to another dissolving marriage."

"Brooke." Davina's hand covered mine, warm and steady. "It's okay to be sad." Her voice gentled, the sharp edge melting away. "It's okay to mourn the life you thought you were going to have."