by Lindsey Hart
“That’s not true, and it’s not why we’re here.”
Ex-Stephanie’s eyes considerably widen when she takes a second look at Steph, whose hand is still in mine, and who is tucked next to my side. She looks between us, looks at me, back at Steph, back at me, then back at Steph. Her face has literally too much makeup to give away much emotion, but I can see the red creeping up her neck.
“We’re just camping,” Steph cuts in. “That’s it.”
She sounds intimidated, a little afraid, and slightly embarrassed. Neither of us wanted to run into my ex-wife, not now. Steph obviously didn’t want to at the beginning. She thought this whole thing was stupid and tried to convince me not to do it. To be normal, to give it up, and to be a better person if for no one other than myself.
I feel terrible for getting her involved in this, for subjecting her to this. I try to steer her away, but Ex-Stephanie lets out a little shriek and a huff. “That’s it? You’re just going to walk away? Oh no. Not like that. Not until you confess to it. I know you’re here because of me. There’s no way you’d show up in the same campground and do something like camp because you enjoy it. We both know you don’t, and we both know you don’t have the skills for it. We both know you’re pathetic.”
“I…” Fitness Dude tries to say something, but Ex-Stephanie snaps her fingers in his face like he’s a trained dog.
“I’m not finished, Brian,” she hisses. Not unlike the snake that tried to kill me. This might kill me, too, in so many ways. I can see she’s winding up, and I’d like nothing more than to grab Steph and get far away. Run, if we have to.
Run from the toxicity and from the explosion that’s probably coming. Just run because I’m not running from something, but because I’m choosing to run toward something else. Something I should have figured out and chosen a long time ago.
Unfortunately, Ex-Stephanie isn’t done, and there isn’t any escape. All I can do is dig in, try and protect Steph the best I can, and hope we can withstand the shit storm that’s about to come pouring down all over us.
CHAPTER 19
Stephanie
“So what? You just thought you’d show up here and try to make me jealous? Make me see what I’m missing and what she gets? Your assistant?” Ex-Stephanie’s whole face contorts like a puckered-up asshole, and she snorts. “Don’t you know how cliché that is? Banging your secretary?”
“It’s pretty cliché too that you’re going out with your personal trainer over there,” I point out blandly, but inside, I’m screaming something along the lines of fml, I knew she was going to point it out, and now it’s actually true.
“Hey,” Brian cuts in. Stephanie holds up her hand and snaps her fingers at him. Again. He closes his mouth and shuts up. Again.
“Yeah, Chad, I don’t think you have anything that’s going to help her case.”
“My name isn’t Chad…”
“I know. You know what? I always thought you were pretty nice to everyone,” I say to Ex-Stephanie, who still looks like she just sucked on the business end of a rotten trash can. “But now I know you’re not that nice at all. You’re kind of an asshole.”
“An asshole?” She hisses. “What about you? You don’t think it’s pathetic that he probably cooked up this whole scheme to get back with me? You’re not doing him any favors by helping him. Anyway, like I could ever be jealous. You’d have to want to be with someone in the first place to be jealous.”
“That’s mean too.”
“Do you think I care? I divorced him for a reason. Because he was useless, but also because I figured out I didn’t have to be with him to have all the money I needed. Yeah, that’s right. You think I actually married you for love?” she sneers at Adam. “Were you really that stupid? I married you because you had money, obviously. Like anyone would ever be with you for any other reason. There really isn’t anything else.”
“He runs an entire company,” I sputter. I’m well aware my face is probably scarlet, and it’s not from humiliation. It’s from sheer rage.
“So? You buy his freaking underwear. I know you do.”
“I…well…who cares? He has better things to do than pick out his own underwear. If that’s what I get paid to do, then that’s what I get paid to do. I don’t actually care. Maybe if you were a decent wife and cared about him at all, you would have bought it, and then I wouldn’t have had to.”
“You buy his underwear?” Brian asks. I don’t know whether he’s disgusted, mystified, or impressed.
“That’s missing the point!” I very nearly stamp my foot. “You just said you married him for his money. How could you say something like that?”
“Uhhh…” Ex-Stephanie lifts a finger to her mouth as she considers that. “Because it’s true.”
I suddenly remember that Adam is here. God. How could I have forgotten? Maybe because I saw red as soon as his ex-wife opened her mouth and started insulting him. Maybe because he’s been so quiet. How. Could. I. Have. Forgotten? His hand is in mine.
I turn slowly to look at him. I want to tell him, with a single look, that I’m sorry. Sorry that he had to hear that. Sorry that he was used. Sorry that he ever thought he was in love with this evil witch. Sorry that I ever thought she was even the least bit decent. Because clearly, she’s not. Not at all.
I can’t get that far, because I’m stopped by his face. God, his face. He looks so…so…horrible. So freaking sad, and so ruined. Destroyed. It looks like he just got tea bagged with a steel-toed boot, repeatedly, but of course, he didn’t, not literally. Just sucker-punched in the worst way. What’s a rich person’s worst fear? A rich person who actually cares? Who has a heart, and who is a good, decent person? That they get used for their money. Hustled, played, whatever.
He wasted years of his life on this total shit bag. She wasn’t even worth a second of Adam’s time.
“That’s great,” Adam says huskily. Even though he’s trying to keep his shit together, emotion is bleeding out all over the place. “Thanks for letting me know. Finally. Could have saved me a ton of time and just asked me for the sixty mil straight up.”
“Sixty mil…mil what? Million?” Brian gasped.
“Shut up,” Ex-Stephanie and I both command at the same time. Poor Brian falls ominously silent, but his mouth is hanging open.
“Well, karma’s a real bitch,” I fire back. “Because he’s clearly just with you for the money and the looks. And you’re pretty, okay? You are. But that fades.”
“The money doesn’t,” Ex-Stephanie retorts.
“That…that could fade too! It could. Whatever. I hope a bird shits on your head.” I glance up at the sky, where a seagull is floating ominously overhead. I stab a finger upward. “That bird. That very one.”
“You’re as pathetic as he is. Why are you defending him?”
“Because! Because he…he’s a good man, which is more than I can say about you.”
“I should certainly hope so. Last time I checked, no penis in sight.”
“Argh! You’re just the worst. You know that? You were married to an amazing man, a man who would have done anything for you. He did do everything to try and make you happy. He gave you everything. The only thing he did wrong was to believe you when you said you loved him back. You’re a user, and that’s gross. No one likes people like you. They’d rather make out with a toilet.”
“He wouldn’t.” She points at Brian.
“I…uh…”
“Why would you hurt him like that? You could have just asked for a divorce, and as everyone else said, you weren’t happy. You could have just walked past us now. You didn’t have to…to say those things! He makes a difference! His company does. Do you have any idea how he pours his whole heart and soul into it? How he cares about every single person at the company? How many lives the charities his company funds have changed?”
“It’s socks,” Ex-Stephanie scoffs. “Please, and whatever. So what if he gives money to charity? It doesn’t mean he can change a lightbulb
.”
“Always with the lightbulbs! Can you change one? Hmm? Can you? I bet you can’t—”
“Hey.” Adam pulls his hand from mine but sets it on my arm gently. “Let’s go.”
There’s a clear warning in his tone as he pleads with me. A warning that in a few minutes, he’s going to lose it. I know what that feels like. I’ve been on the wrong end of being dumped a few times. I was used once, cheated on once, and just plain dumped twice, and I know the feeling. The feeling of having to escape to be alone with your emotions so you can rage it out, cry it out, and just try and put yourself back together and get on with living, because what else are you supposed to do?
I know how much it sucks, and I know those private moments, or hours—okay days and weeks—are really, really hard. Adam probably isn’t going to ugly cry the way I have in the past. He might not throw things and stomp around or look in the mirror and ask why a few hundred times—it was a low time for me—but I do understand his desire to just get the heck out of here.
It just sucks that he wasted so many years of his life on this woman, let alone all the money. But no, it’s not about that. It’s never been about that for him. Love can make you blind. It can make you stupid, and it can make you feel and think things that are totally irrational.
Love can be a great thing, but it can also be a real bastard.
“Sure, go. That’s great. See you later, Adam. Actually, it would be really nice if I didn’t. Ever. Again.”
“The feeling’s totally mutual.” I flip Ex-Stephanie the double bird, and maybe no one has ever done that before—god help the universe—because she actually gasps.
I take Adam’s hand and tug him a little too forcefully as I stomp away like a toddler.
We get about five steps before a shriek pierces the quiet area behind us. Then a laugh coming from Brian. He’s laughing, and I have to see this. I turn slightly to see if maybe karma is real, and perhaps Ex-Stephanie slipped on an errant rock or something and ended up on her ass. But nope, it’s even better. That seagull I was talking about? He totally did me a solid one. He was circling overhead for quite a while, probably attracted by the scent of Stephanie’s perfume since it does smell kind of like marshmallows, and all the testosterone Brian is giving off. The noxious combination probably turned the poor bird’s stomach.
Stephanie shrieks again as she wipes the sticky white and grey bird poop out of her eyes. It hit her square on the head, dribbled down her hair, onto her forehead, and into her eyes. I flash the bird a thumbs up and mouth a silent thank you.
I can’t smother a giggle. Unfortunately, Adam doesn’t find it very funny. I get it. He’s angry and hurt. He’s probably also pissed at himself for even coming here, pissed at himself for getting duped and used, and for thinking he had something to prove to this walking shit bag for years after the fact because she wrecked him so badly when she left.
When we’re far enough from Ex-Stephanie and Brian, he lets go of my hand and sprints away from me.
“Adam!” I yell, racing after him. By racing, I mean that I chug along slowly because flip-flops aren’t very great for trying to chase someone down, and my feet still hurt from the hiking boots incident. Adam’s wearing his, and he’s in way better shape than I am.
It only takes a few minutes until he rounds the bend in the road that twists through the campground, and then disappears.
Huffing and chuffing and grabbing onto my side, I have to stop. I bend over, gasping for breath.
“Adam,” I rasp. “Fuck. This is not good.”
It hits me, as I doubled over, the stitch in my side stealing my breath, that I care. I seriously care. No, it’s not just the fact that we slept together, or that there seems to be some really unexpected chemistry between us. It’s that, over the years, I think I might have, just a teeny, tiny, little bit, fallen in love with my boss, and it’s all come to a head on this trip.
CHAPTER 20
Adam
“Adam, please, open the door.”
It’s kind of weird that Steph is standing at the driver’s side window pounding on it, and I’m sitting right on the other side of the glass, behind the wheel of my car. I wonder what she sees when she looks at me? Something hopeless? A lost cause? Some pathetic guy who came up with a pathetic plan because he’s totally and utterly pathetic? Some guy who just got told he was duped into marrying someone, into loving them, into spending two freaking years after they left, wishing he’d somehow done something different, been better, loved harder, tried harder, and given more. Just something. That something extra the other person obviously needed.
Learning that maybe it wasn’t me at all is kind of freeing. On the other hand, hearing that Ex-Stephanie never loved me and just wanted to be with me for what she could get out of it really sucks.
I lean my head back against the headrest as Stephanie knocks on the window.
“Adam, please. Open the door. I’m sorry about what happened, but making me stand out here and not talking about it isn’t going to make it any better. If you want, we can even sit in silence. Just please, let me in. You shouldn’t be alone right now.”
Without even looking, I hit the button to crack the window an inch. Steph leans in and blows an exasperated breath right through it. “Adam!” She sticks her fingers in the crack when I open an eye. “Hey. You’re going to be okay. At least now you know nothing you did would have made a difference. You can finally move on.”
I hate that she’s basically saying what I’ve been thinking.
“You should try enduring that kind of beat down.” I close my eyes again, mostly because I can’t bear to look at anyone or anything right now. I hate seeing pity. I don’t want to be pitied.
“I have. Believe me. I’ve dated guys who cheated on me. They’ve broken up with me. One said my boobs weren’t big enough. Celery Stephanie, remember? Yeah, try living like that all through high school. One time, I went on this date. I was so nervous, and I wore a padded bra, and when he went in to…well, yeah. He totally noticed and called me on it. Imagine having to go to school after that. It wasn’t fun. They called me Stuffed Celery after that. And Stuffed Stephanie and Stephanie The Stuffer. I got dumped by a guy in college who told me I sucked in bed, but not literally because I lacked in that department. I’ve been through my fair share of humiliation. Granted, I never married anyone who used me, but I have dated assholes. You know what, though? That’s on them. You can’t live your whole life wondering how you could have been better or thinking there’s something wrong with you.”
“This was my idea. This stupid plan.”
Steph stomps her foot. “It turned out okay for us, didn’t it? If you don’t open the freaking door, I am going to kick the side of the car.”
My eyes snap open. “You’re what?”
“I’m going to kick it. You have five seconds, and then there’s a dent going in on this baby. Five. Four. Three. Two. One.”
I’ve pretty much had it with Steph’s countdowns, so I let her get to one just to see what’s going to happen. Sure as shit, she winds up and nails the side of the car. I also know she’s wearing flip flops, so there’s a moment’s pause, and then a loud wail.
“Ow! Ow, ow, ow, ow!” Steph starts hopping around, grabbing her foot. “Ow, my toes!” She wails. She faces me, her foot in her hand, and promptly bursts into tears.
Shit. She might have actually broken something.
I unlock the doors and scramble out of the car. Steph isn’t trying to trick me. Those tears aren’t of the crocodile variety. She’s sobbing while holding her foot. I don’t think she’d welcome my help at the moment, but I’m surprised. She drops her foot and steps right into my arms. She wraps her arms around my waist, and even when mine wrap around her shoulder, I’m not sure who’s holding who, but it feels good. It feels so. God. Damn. Amazing.
The thing about living without hope is that it really makes you feel worthless, I guess. Ex-Stephanie might have used me, she might have married me, and she might
not have given a shit about me at all, ever, but I was the one who took what she said to heart. I was the one who punished myself. I was the one who kept telling myself I was everything she said I was even though I knew better.
“Are you okay?” I rub Steph’s back soothingly. “Are your toes broken?”
“I…d-d-don’t know,” Steph sniffs against me. “Are you okay? Is your pride broken? What about your heart?”
Only Steph would ask me that. She’s never taken crap from anyone, but she talks to me like she’s known me her whole life. She doesn’t let me get away with much, at least not when it comes to the truth.
“I don’t know,” I say in a husky voice since I know she’ll know if I’m lying to her or not. “About either.”
“Just because I buy your underwear and organize your household stuff and all that doesn’t mean anything she said is true. You’re busy, and you do so much. You seriously rock at business, and I have no idea how you do half of that stuff. I’ve seen you give presentations. I’ve seen you talk to investors. And you make socks really fun. You make them better for people’s health. You make them such that they’re not just socks anymore. And you help so, so many people. Don’t let her take that away from you. I know for a fact that if I don’t bring you food and remind you that you’re human, and you can’t run on empty all the time, you get so busy that you forget to eat. I know for a fact that last year, you doubled the company’s sales, which were already crazy impressive. I know for a fact that your family not only loves the heck out of you, but they’re also so proud. They didn’t just hand you anything. You worked for it, and you continue to work so hard. And you care. God, you care so much. About the business, about the people who buy your socks, about the people who work at the stores that sell your socks, about providing great working conditions for the people who make your socks, and about absolutely everyone. Everyone your company touches, all those people…you care that they have a good salary and great benefits. So, don’t let her tell you that you’re worthless or useless. Who cares about the fucking lightbulbs anyway?”