Chapter Twenty
Okay, so maybe I should’ve left Sailo’s a little earlier than I did. Sitting at my desk the next morning, with three hours of sleep to my name, I was a fucking wreck. During my college years, I could handle that, but now? Not so much. Oops.
But was it worth it?
My body still ached, and I swore I could still feel his lips and goatee tickling my neck while we’d fucked just one more time before I’d left. Despite the fatigue, I grinned to myself as I reached for my coffee.
Oh yeah. It was worth it. And hell, I was getting used to working on less sleep than I needed. My coworkers didn’t seem to notice. My work wasn’t suffering. As long as I wasn’t dozing off during meetings or fucking up paperwork, well, the only harm was a little extra yawning throughout the day. Totally worth it.
As I always did, I made it through the day, still functioning and still grinning like an idiot. Counting down the minutes until I saw Sailo again? Absolutely.
I was on my way home when my phone buzzed. Traffic wasn’t moving, so I quickly glanced at the message. It was from Becky.
Have some papers from atty’s office—come by or I can mail?
It was tempting to have her mail them. One less awkward face-to-face encounter. On the other hand, if I went over and dealt with it now, that would take us one step closer to things being finalized and over with. The sooner this was all over and behind me, the better.
I waited until I was home to text her and let her know I’d be there shortly. After a quick cup of coffee to wake myself up—still worth it—I drove the familiar route to the street I used to live on.
It was still weird and a little painful coming back to this place, but it was getting easier. The further I moved on, the more time I spent with Sailo and the new life that was feeling more like mine every day, the less I struggled to accept that this chapter was over.
I parked in the driveway and walked up to the front door. Before I could knock, Becky opened it.
Our eyes met, but only for a second. She stood aside and gestured for me to come in. “It’s in the dining room.”
“Okay.” I ignored the unfamiliar jacket hanging by the door, and the hiking boots next to the Birkenstocks. She was moving on. That was good. So was I. Without saying a word about him, I followed her into the other room.
“Sorry to have you come over for something this small.” She pulled the papers out of a manila envelope. “We both forgot to sign one of the pages, and my attorney said it would delay things if we sent it in like this.”
“No problem.”
She set the page on the table. Sure enough, two blank lines were marked with bright yellow sticky notes. She’d signed one already, and handed me a pen to fill in the other.
I uncapped the pen. “Not sure how we missed that, but glad he caught it.”
“Yeah, he’s pretty thorough.”
“He is. Nice guy too,” I said as I scrawled my signature across the highlighted blank. “Doesn’t seem like the snakey lawyer type.”
“No, he’s not. That’s exactly why Jase recommended him.”
I tilted my head. “Jase?”
“Yeah, my—” She stopped abruptly and swallowed. “The, um, the man I’ve been seeing. Recently. Since you left.”
Since I left? Since you kicked me out.
I capped the pen and set it on the form. “Anyway, I’m glad he caught it. Do you need me to take a copy to my lawyer?”
She shook her head. “He said he’ll send it over once we took care of this.”
“Great. Perfect.” I chewed my lip. “Well, I should go.”
“Right. Um. Thanks for coming by. I’ll take it to his office first thing in the morning.”
“Okay. I’ll see you later, then.”
With my ex-wife on my heels, I headed out. The jacket by the door, the Birkenstocks, the hiking boots—they were more conspicuous now. Throbbing at the edges of my peripheral vision, needling me and demanding that I turn and fucking look at them.
I kept my gaze forward, though, and got the hell out of there. On the porch, we exchanged quiet good-byes without eye contact, without touching. Then I walked away as she closed the door behind me. I got in my car, relieved that the awkwardness was over, but as I drove away, that taut, uncomfortable feeling—the one that usually followed me to my old house—set up shop in the middle of my chest.
Her boyfriend recommended her attorney?
My stomach tied itself in knots. Becky’d mentioned this attorney the day she’d told me we were getting a divorce. But she’d never mentioned this Jase. Not as a coworker. Not as a friend or a neighbor or some guy she knew from the gym. But they’d been close enough for him to recommend a lawyer before I even knew we were getting divorced?
I shifted uncomfortably. The pieces were falling into place whether I liked it or not. Mentally, I tried to push them apart, but it didn’t work.
The man living in my old house wasn’t a new addition like Sailo.
My wife cheated on me.
And as those pieces cemented themselves to each other, and the truth could no longer be denied, more questions emerged.
How long had it been going on? Was he the only one?
Did the kids know?
God, please, tell me the kids don’t know.
No. She wouldn’t have let the kids find out. She’d done a damn fine job keeping it away from me, and she wouldn’t have been careless where they were concerned.
Oh, but now I knew. And holy shit, it hurt. Moving on had been difficult, but now it was like being dumped all over again. As if we were back to that moment when she’d said the words that threw my life off-kilter, only this time, there was someone standing behind her. A quiet, male presence. A reassuring hand on her shoulder while there was none on mine. Everything she said suddenly had new meaning.
“I want a divorce…so he and I can start our life together.”
“I’d like you to move out…so he can move in.”
“It’s over, and it’s been over for a long time…and you’ve already been replaced.”
Wow. I laughed bitterly into the silence of my car. And I’d felt guilty about hooking up with Sailo so close on the heels of the divorce. Jesus Christ. At least I’d waited until we’d signed the papers, even if the ink wasn’t dry yet.
At the end of our—her—road, I pulled over and put the car in park. Swearing into the silence, I rubbed my hands over my face. It was like the moment she’d pulled the rug out from under me in the first place. Suddenly I was running through the last twenty-five years, searching for signs and writing I should’ve seen on the wall. Was I blind? Stupid? Oblivious?
Not that it mattered. The divorce was still happening regardless of what had led up to it. In theory, I could bring this to my attorney and use it as leverage to get more from the divorce, but why? What would really be gained? The divorce would drag on longer. The bitterness would run deeper. The kids would probably find out, and they didn’t need that.
So I’d let it go. I wouldn’t bring it up to Becky. I wouldn’t put this out there where the kids would find it. I’d tuck it into the bitter recesses of my memory, put it behind me, and just remind myself that the divorce was, in fact, for the better.
But goddamn, I wasn’t happy about it.
Cursing under my breath, I shifted back into drive, pulled onto the road, and continued toward home as home faded in the rearview.