by Q. B. Tyler
I force myself to keep walking and not look back. I have to push myself to put one foot in front of the other, out of his house, and toward Lauren’s car. Before I know it, we are out of his neighborhood and moving away from Will and my heart that I’ve left with him.
* * *
“HAVE YOU LEFT THIS BEDROOM all day?” Lauren asks as she stands in the doorway of the guest room in her apartment. I sit up and run a hand over my eyes trying to pull myself out of the final moments of my second nap of the day. “Are you just planning to sleep the next month?”
“It’s been one day, give me a break,” I whine as I fall back into the pillows. Although the idea of sleeping through the next thirty days doesn’t sound like a bad idea. I wouldn’t mind fast-forwarding through this time without Will. Besides, I am mentally exhausted.
It had been one day since I left Will’s apartment and I’m already miserable. True to his word, Will had already found a lawyer that worked at his father’s firm to represent me. I’ll be meeting with him tomorrow to draw up papers and then they will be served to Matthew.
“A month is not that long, Charley.” I glare at Lauren and she shoots her hands up in defense. “I just mean it might give you some clarity. The space might do you good! Give you some time in between Matt and Will. It’s not healthy to jump from one relationship to another so quickly. You’re coming off of an eight-year relationship and a five-year marriage, let yourself decompress. He will be there after you’ve gotten yourself together.”
“Since when did you become so wise?” I grumble.
“I just don’t want you jumping feetfirst into this relationship with Will and…have it blow up in your face.”
“It won’t! I love him, Lauren. You know I do.”
“You loved Matt too at one point.”
“That’s not fair.” I shake my head at her and pulling my covers over my face as I try to block out the world—and Lauren’s logic.
“I don’t know what about this situation makes you believe that life is fair,” she says sitting down next to me and yanking the covers from over my head. “Come on, let’s go get margaritas.”
“What about my attire leads you to believe that I want to leave this apartment?” I say, throwing her sarcasm back at her.
“Your love for tequila? Come on, Charley…you haven’t left this bed in almost thirty hours except maybe to…shower? Tell me you’ve showered.”
“Fuck off, I’ve showered.” I frown before turning my back to her to face the wall. I feel the covers pulled from me again and sent off the bed, and I sit up shooting her a glare. “I don’t want to.”
“I don’t give a shit. You’re staying at my house you have to do what I say.”
I roll my eyes and hop out of bed. “What are we in, grade school?” I say before heading into the bathroom to try and fix the rat’s nest that is my hair.
I can’t escape the giggles that come out of me as Lauren and I take on our second pitcher of margaritas. Okay, maybe I did need this. Time with my best friend and tequila and tacos. Three of my favorite things. “So, who’s bigger?” Lauren asks and I almost spit out the drink in my mouth.
“Lauren!” I say, my cheeks getting hot, and I don’t know if it’s from the alcohol or my best friend’s line of questioning.
“What? If you can’t tell me, who can you tell?” She leans forward urging me to answer her.
I look around, to make sure no one is listening. “Will…by a long shot.”
“It’s been so long since I’ve gotten any. I think I’ve forgotten what it feels like,” Lauren complains as her head finds the table.
“Well, I’m about to be in the celibacy boat right along with you.”
“Hot Doc is going to find a way to see you over the next month, don’t be so dramatic!” I giggle at her nickname for him.
“That’s the opposite of trying to lie low, Lauren. And didn’t you say that I should let things settle before I go jumping into another relationship… I love Will more than anything, and I want to be with him,” I say, swirling the straw in the pale-colored drink in front of me. “But I would be lying if I didn’t say I might need some time to breathe. I don’t want to go from being reliant on one man to reliant on another.” I’m silent as I look out at the traffic passing by. “I hate the idea of being alone.” I wince, hearing myself say the words out loud for the first time. “And I hate that I feel that way. Yes, it stems from Michael and…all of the issues with my mother and her multiple husbands but I’m twenty-eight.”
Fuck, I’ll be twenty-nine next week. Happy fucking birthday to me.
“I’m an adult, I should be able to…stand on my own two feet.” I feel myself on the edge of a breakthrough…or a breakdown.
“Tequila: the best truth serum,” Lauren says, raising her hand up toward the waiter who I assume is behind me. “We’re going to need another one of these,” she says, pointing at our pitcher that is nearly empty. “Charley, everyone needs to feel safe and loved and protected. There is nothing wrong with needing someone. Hell, we all need someone to lean on sometimes.”
“Please don’t quote old-school songs to me right now.”
Lauren’s mouth drops open and she smiles. “That’s a great song.”
“If you start singing, I will get up.”
“Lean on meeee,” she starts and my eyes widen as I look around at the people around us.
“I’m serious, Lo.”
She continues and I put a hand over my eyes trying not to make eye contact with anyone who might be watching. Her voice gets louder with every line. “Lauren…God, what did I start?” I say, rolling my eyes.
She looks around, her voice getting quieter. “Okay, I’m done. Thank you, you’ve been a beautiful audience.”
I sigh and shake my head. “I can’t take you anywhere.”
“I’m serious though, Charley. No one is faulting you for needing someone to be there for you. I just don’t want you to get hurt by moving too quickly.”
“I feel like it’s inevitable though, right? I cheated on my husband. Why do I get to walk away from this scot-free?”
“Because although you did something bad, you’re not a bad person.”
Is it bad that I need to hear that? As annoying as she can be, Lauren always knows what to say.
“And Matt isn’t totally innocent in all of this anyway,” she continues. “I mean come on, how many times did he make you feel unimportant…unloved…”
“Is that a reason to cheat though?” I ask, suddenly doubting all of my decisions of the last four months. “Maybe I should have just left Matt the second the feeling to fuck Will was getting too great.”
“Look, you and I both know this is bigger than the fucking. If you just fucked Will once or twice, you could probably tell Matt, he’d be mad and maybe not trust you for a while, but he would get over it. You guys could move forward. You didn’t end your marriage because you cheated on your husband and you just couldn’t live with the guilt. You ended it because you fell in love and you can’t live without another man that’s not your husband.” She shrugs. “It sucks, but it’s the reality of the situation. This is so much bigger and deeper than the physical act of penetration.”
I sigh letting her words sink in as she gets up to use the ladies’ room. I pull out my Blackberry and my mood is instantly lifted when I see a text from Will.
Will: I wish I was coming home to you tonight.
I press the green button on my phone to place a call, needing to hear his voice more than our flirty text banter.
“Beautiful.” He answers the phone after the first ring.
“Hi,” I say soft and breathy and I hear him groan over the phone.
“Should I have my dick out for this conversation?” he asks, and I smile. The idea of phone sex flashing through my mind.
“Where are you?” I ask, trying to calm my libido that has been sparked both by the alcohol and the mental image of Will naked.
“In my office…I have a ses
sion in a few minutes. Where are you?”
“Getting margaritas with Lauren,” I hiccup.
“I see, and how many of those have you had?” he asks, but I can hear the humor in his voice.
“A lot.”
“How are you getting back to Lauren’s?”
“An Uber… I don’t think either of us are in any place to drive,” I giggle.
“If she’s anything like you, then no, neither of you should be driving.” I giggle again. “I mean it, Charlotte.”
“I know. I won’t, I promise.”
“Good. Now go have fun with Lauren and call me later, okay?”
I nod, my drunk mind not recognizing that he can’t actually see me. “Yes, okay!” I say.
He chuckles. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“Who do you love?” Lauren asks, coming around the table and sitting across from me.
I hang up the phone and give her a look. “Who do you think?”
An hour and another pitcher later, Lauren and I have gotten the bill. I have to fight her to let me pay. Since I’m staying at her apartment it is the least I could do. The waiter comes back to the table and I take the bill from him, expecting to see the familiar receipt under my card when I just see my card and I look up at him confused.
“Ma’am, I’m sorry, but your card has been declined.”
“What?” My vision is a little blurry, but I know I could find my American Express Platinum Card in my sleep. I put the card close to my face and sure enough it’s the one I was trying to use.
“There must be some mistake, this card has no limit.” I smile. “Can you try again?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he says before walking away.
“So weird.” I shrug as I take the last sip of my drink.
A few minutes later, he comes back. “Still didn’t go through, ma’am. Do you have another card?”
“That’s impossible. I use this card all the time. Okay, sorry. Not your problem. Let me grab you another one.” I hand him my Chase card and surely enough he’s back within moments telling me the same. “Are you sure your machine is working? I’ve never had any issues with these cards before.”
The waiter, who probably isn’t older than twenty looks at me, the annoyance evident. “I…don’t know. Maybe? I can try another machine?”
I sigh. “No, it’s okay. Umm, here,” I say, pulling out my bank card.
“That’s so weird? Why would none of your cards be working?” Lauren asks, and I shake my head, confused when he comes back with the same growing scowl to tell me this card has been declined too. At this point I’m furious.
What the fuck?
“Just let me pay, and then we can figure out what’s going on?”
I nod as Lauren pays the check and my heart sinks when he comes back with the receipts for her to sign. “Why would—” I start when I have a sobering thought.
Matthew has access to all of my cards.
“He wouldn’t,” I say and Lauren’s eyes widen, as she understands where my mind is going.
I pick up my phone and dial the number on the back of my card. “Thank you for calling American Express, can you please tell me who I have the pleasure of speaking with?”
“Charlotte Pierce.”
“Hello, Ms. Pierce, what can I help you with?”
“I—ummm, I’m trying to use my card and it won’t go through,” I chuckle. “Very embarrassing…can you tell me what’s going on?”
“Of course, Ms. Pierce. I do apologize for the inconvenience, can you please provide me with the last four digits of your social security number?
“Three zero one four.”
“And the last four digits of the card you are calling about? I do see a few different cards here.”
“Four zero zero five.”
“Okay, yes, I see here that the account holder has cancelled this card. I see a notation that you have misplaced your card and we are actually in the process of sending you another.”
“That’s…not possible. I’m looking at my card right now.”
“We received a call earlier today from the cardholder and we were told to cancel this one.”
“That’s impossible. I’m the cardholder.”
“Well…can I place you on hold, for a moment?” she asks.
“Don’t bother,” I say. “Just tell me, this cardholder, was it Matthew Wells?”
“I’m not at liberty to say who called, ma’am.”
“Unbelievable,” I chuckle. “Thank you for all of your help.” I hang up the phone and look at Lauren. “That asshole cancelled all of my credit cards.”
“Do you have any cards in your name?” she asks.
“Yes, one I think…” I rub my forehead. “Unless I cancelled it. What the fuck?” I growl. “So, what, he’s just going to take everything?” I ask. “I mean…I guess I can’t expect him to be supporting me. I just thought he’d at least tell me first. Am I not allowed that courtesy?” The tears well up in my eyes as I think about the fact that I don’t have a dime to my name. I haven’t had a job the entire time we’ve been married, and what little bit of savings I had going into this marriage I put in our joint account. Then the light bulb goes off in my head. Joint checking account. Well, if that’s how you want to play things, Matt.
I crawl my way into bed after we get back to Lauren’s with the multiple margaritas and shots I consumed roiling in my belly and pull out my Blackberry. “I was wondering when I would hear from you,” he says sleepily, and only then do I notice that it’s well past 1 a.m.
“Shit, I’m sorry it’s so late.” I lie on my back, my eyes fluttering closed as the alcohol prohibits me from keeping them open.
“Don’t be. I always want to hear from you, anytime. Did you have fun with Lauren?”
“Yes…I wish you could have been there.”
“Me too, baby.”
I debate telling him about my plan for tomorrow but decide against it, knowing that he would probably offer to give me anything I need. “So, will you be at your father’s office tomorrow?”
“When you meet with your lawyer? It’s probably not the best idea.”
“Does your father know?”
“He knows that you are a…close friend of mine. I think he’s probably connected the dots. I just wanted you to file before I tell him everything.”
“Everything meaning?”
“The house, you, me…everything.”
“Your family isn’t going to like me very much are they? If your brother was any inclination,” I murmur.
“They’ll love you once they meet you and get to know you.”
“Mmmhmm,” I say, feeling myself on the precipice of sleep.
I hear him tell me he loves me, and it’s the last thing I remember before sleep finds me.
Sitting across from my divorce lawyer—John Cromack Esq., of Meier, Carr, and Cohen—I sign my name on the dotted line. I had no idea that filing for divorce would be that simple.
“This is only the first step, Ms. Pierce. Once your husband is served these papers, is when the hard part comes like the negotiations, the back and forth…deciding what it is you both think you should be walking away from this marriage with. Ms. Pierce, Georgia is a ‘no-fault’ state so we don’t necessarily need to prove that there was any fault. We are just citing irreconcilable differences. The partners want this to be at the top of my priority list, so it is. You must have some friends in high places.”
Or boyfriend’s father in high places. I pray to God that I don’t come face-to-face with said boyfriend’s father while I’m here.
“Now, there was no prenuptial agreement, and because you haven’t worked for the entirety of your marriage you could be entitled to some hefty alimony payments, as well as half of the assets acquired during your marriage,” he tells me and I shake my head.
“I don’t want half of everything. I told you what I wanted.”
“Yes, your…” he looks down at his notes, “Audi
Q3, and certain gifts that Mr. Wells has given you over the course of your marriage. Gifts are a given, Ms. Pierce.” He removes his glasses and tosses them across the table. “Frankly, you will probably be leaving this marriage a very wealthy woman, or at the very least, extremely comfortable. Are you familiar with the phrase ‘just and equitable division of property, assets, and debts’?”
“I can guess what that means.”
“No judge will grant your husband everything, after you haven’t worked, thereby leaving you destitute. To be honest, you may be granted your home, even though he purchased it and makes the monthly mortgage payments. Any property that you bought with money that has been earned during the marriage is community property. Each party’s income during the marriage is community property. Fortunately for you, Ms. Pierce, you had no income. So, you have nothing to lose from this divorce, only to gain. Anything that was bought during your marriage, belongs to you both. It does not matter what paycheck was used—and in this case all major purchases were done by your husband, correct?”
“Yes.”
He nods. “But these are all things that will be discussed once he is served the papers. In the meantime, since you don’t have access to your credit cards, do you have any idea what you are going to do for money? Do you have access to your joint checking account?” It’s like this man can read my mind.
“Yes.”
“I see. And are you going to do something about that?” he slides his glasses back on and looks at me from over the top of them. I bite my bottom lip, looking to the side, out the window, as my mind drifts to Will.
Is he in a session? Is he thinking about me?
I talked to him this morning, after I woke up with my phone next to my ear alerting me that I probably fell asleep with him on the phone. But we didn’t talk for long, as I was rushing out the door to meet my lawyer.
“Yes.”
“I would say that’s wise. How much are you considering taking?”
“I don’t know, what do you think? You’re my lawyer.”
“Well, based on his records,” he says, looking down at my husband’s bank statements, credit card statements, investments, stocks, and bonds. “I would say fifty thousand is a nice round number.”