B.I.L.F.: A Brother In Law Romance

by Dark Angel

  I just tend to forget that I have anything going on because my upcoming divorce—and sexless marriage—have left me feeling stale.

  And that little line, sure, it seemed like a jab, but I just let my eyes widen over another sip of wine. “Yeah, my boss, Gerri, she’s been a real life-saver. With this promotion I got, I’ve really been dealing with an even more demanding workload. I guess you enjoy a challenge at work? I do.” I’m trying to be polite and deflect what he said. Sorta cringing at how I seem to have nothing but work to talk about, but I’m focused on work and school so much that I don’t really have much in the way of hobbies or a social life.

  I’m sure plenty of well-adjusted people with full lives in all aspects use dating apps. Me? I’m trying to make up for the lost time. Like, part of me thinks I married Barry because I thought I had found a charming guy and figured it all out. Wrong.

  Mr. Charmer, number two, Darius, looks at me for several long seconds and replies back with this gem. “Well—” he rolls his eyes “—you don’t have to try to impress me, I have plenty of my own money. I mean, when you picked this restaurant, that’s what you wanted to know, right?”

  “Darius, I picked this restaurant because you said you like Italian food, and this place has good reviews,” I say, attempting to hold back the instantly bitchy comments. “But why don’t we talk about something other than work. You like golfing, right?” I’m trying here, ladies, I really am.

  Darius chuckles. A loud guffaw that makes other people look at our table. “You golf?”

  “I haven’t tried it, but it seems like it could be relaxing,” I offer.

  “Garçon!” Darius snaps at someone else’s waiter going by, not waiting for the waitress assigned to our table that dropped off my wine and his water. “She’ll have a cobb salad, and I’ll have a chicken parmigiana. Extra wine!”

  “I don’t need any more wine, thanks,” I say to the waiter. “And I’d like your scallop fettucine alfredo, please,” I say. I didn’t come here to get pushed around, or to eat a thirty-dollar cobb salad with some pushy asshole.

  To his credit, Darius says nothing...though his mouth hangs open a little bit and his eyes turn to slits for a second when he looks at me.

  The rest of the dinner isn’t much better than this. I don’t drink more of my wine because I’m keeping my cool. Plus, I have an early day tomorrow. Kinda the perfect ending to an absolute garbage date.

  “Thank you for a delicious dinner,” I say when we’ve both finished our meals. I hand the waitress my card before he can reach for his wallet. “I have an early morning meeting and I want to put a few more things in the slide deck for my presentation, so I think I need to call it a night.”

  The waitress returns quickly with my card, as she knows just how poorly this date has been going. I tip, sign, and reach for my purse, but as I go to stand, I feel the grip of Darius’s fingers on my forearm.

  “I’m not done with you,” Darius says, his hand literally pushing my arm to keep me seated.

  Okay, hold the fuck up! I smack his arm away. His rudeness during the date—toward me, the waiter, and the waitress—already has me at my wit’s end. But this is beyond the pale, and I’m going to smack him if he doesn’t check himself. “I said that I have to go in early, so have some grace and let’s end this date on a better note than how the rest of it went.” I keep a terse smile on my face.

  When you’re on date, you get those clues that things might not go well. Do we expect a dating app to bring us prince charming? Like, duh, of course not.

  Still, we don’t expect a petty man child to make us bring out our inner bitch. But sometimes you gotta, because how else are we going to get the results we need when a man thinks it is his job to correct you and exert his will?

  “Wow, okay, so how many guys you think want sloppy seconds?” Darius puts his hands up in the air and acts like he doesn’t care.

  I stand, not wanting to say anything because what’s the point, right?

  “You’ll be sorry. No one walks away from me!” Darius spits that one loudly in my direction, even though this is the sort of restaurant where you need a reservation and where you expect actual grown, mature adults to dine.

  Not the petulant man-boy who decided to use my current separation status that I disclosed to him against me like he was flinging dirt at me. I swear, this jackass and Barry, the soon-to-be-ex-husband, are the last two people on earth that are up in arms about divorce.

  At least Barry’s got his religious convictions as his reason for objecting. I can respect that he doesn’t want to do something he sees as sin. We rushed into marriage...that wasn’t the only thing that blindsided me. I mean, I married a man who didn’t want to have sex with me and treated me like having a career as a personal affront to his work as a preacher.

  I don’t even look back when I head out of the restaurant, Ava Reggiano’s, and make a mental note to come here myself and order the lobster ravioli.

  The dating scene is frigging terrible.

  I finally landed on a pick on a dating app and guess what? Total dud.

  Seriously...I know how to pick them.

  3

  Elena

  As I enter the lawyer’s office, I am determined to get everything finished with Barry expediently and be done with all of this. He's dragged me along this far, and all I want is closure. I tried to dress conservatively, not looking to incur any of his “holy” wrath because he sees an inch of my cleavage. I am so done with Barry. He never wanted anything to do with my lady parts the instant we got married. I can't believe this all might be over soon, because since I realized that I needed this divorce, everything started to move in slow motion.

  I walk into the large, marble-floored lobby of my lawyer's office. Jeremy Wakefield, my lawyer, has been so great through this ordeal, and at least I have good counsel to get through this process. The beautiful bronze statues flanking the lobby seem to stare me in the face as I walk to the elevator. Looking through the elevator doors until the statues disappear from my field of vision, I wish I could just stay here in this lobby. Let Jeremy do all the work.

  Unfortunately, I have to handle this with my lawyer… And with Barry.

  The elevator opens at the top floor and I emerge to find my lawyer standing there. He nods, smiling at me.

  "Barry's already here," Jeremy says. "Let’s get started."

  I take a deep breath to strengthen my resolve.

  This is going to turn out how I want it to. I repeat my little mantra to myself, hoping it will calm me. Fake it till you make it and all that.

  I don't want anything from Barry, just for us to go our separate ways. I'm so close to freedom I can taste it. I just feel foolish having rushed into this relationship with Barry. I thought I’d found a good man who would be part of the way I saw my life going. Barry seemed to think something very much the same, yet me having a career seemed to be at total odds with his idea of a preacher’s wife.

  I follow my lawyer down the all-too-familiar long, narrow hallway leading to the book-lined corner office, and he opens the door.

  Barry is sitting there, fists clenched in his lap and that same frustrated look plastered over his face like it has been, sadly, not too long after we got married. His lawyer, Paul Carson is there too, and he gives me a friendly smile. I offer one back to be courteous and sit down. My stomach clenches for a moment and my heart flutters, but I try to keep calm. I’m young, and I made a mistake, but I’m trying to rectify it. It should be simple, right? I’ve been back in these offices signing enough paperwork, so it shouldn’t be too bad. I mean...how much more work can there possibly be? I’m not asking for anything but to end this marriage.

  I take my seat on the opposite side of the wooden table so that I’m as far from Barry as possible.

  Jeremy takes his seat. "We are here to settle the divorce between Elena and Barry. Both parties are present with their assigned counsel. Proceedings will begin now."

  Barry’s lawyer, Paul, begi
ns, "My client, Barry, is seeking damages because his profession as a pastor has been ruined by the ending of this marriage. My client maintains that Elena chose her career over him and that led to the dissolution of this marriage."

  What? I knew Barry was being difficult about the divorce, but I had no idea he was actually going to take his pettiness to a fiscal level. This is unbelievable!

  "Barry, we talked about this," I say directly to him. "I thought you understood. I didn’t know we were going to blame—"

  My lawyer and his lawyer both advise our silence, and Barry won’t even look at me.

  "This is the truth as I know it to be, " Barry says nonchalantly. There’s an iciness to the words that tell me he doesn’t care about my feelings here. It’s hard to imagine that I could’ve married a man that I thought loved me, yet he could have no regard for me and decide that I’m damaging him by trying to have a career and by trying to amicably dissolve our obviously failed marriage.

  "All right, let's return to these proceedings at hand," my lawyer says. "I'm sure we can come to an agreement."

  "Well only if your party can agree to substantial damages," Paul says.

  "I will not be dragged through the dirt and rung out for what I have," I say, my voice getting a tad frantic. I can’t help it as I feel myself going into shock. My palms are sweating, and my stomach hurts. I was nervous before, but now I’m mad. "This isn’t how this is going to work at all. I have to be treated fairly, not accused and held up for whatever you decide you want, Barry."

  I know that Barry is opposed to the divorce and wanted to salvage a marriage he never fought to make good, but he isn’t going to get damages out of me and accuse me of ruining him with my career of all things. His unwillingness to sleep with me was one thing, but when he started to refuse to talk about anything, I knew Barry and I wouldn’t work out. Still, I’m shocked by his demands. He brought me here today to shame me and to get me to pay him for it. I can tell by the crooked smile on his lips that he thinks me paying damages is some kind of retribution he can seek for me to admit I’ve done something wrong.

  "You know what, Barry?” I say, trying not let my words come out in a huff. “You never deserved me. I never should've trusted you. And for a pastor, you're just a giant liar. I would love for people to see who you really are. You made promises to me when you married me, but when I saw you didn’t want to keep them, I tried to make a responsible decision with you. But you never acted as my partner before, and you don’t want to even end this without trying to humiliate me." My lips form a thin line and hold back any of the thousand things I’d love to shout in anger.

  Barry leans back in his chair and has a very smug smile on his face.

  He seems to think I’ve done something in his favor by calling out just how ridiculous his accusations are. He looks so proud of himself.

  I'm just disgusted.

  "Well, well," Barry says. "It seems your true colors are coming to light. It's so unladylike for you, Elena." He looks at me for a brief moment before turning to his lawyer Paul. "You see what I have to deal with? She never has composure."

  That’s it! I am so done with this meeting. It's obvious Barry doesn't know how to act like an adult, and I don't know why I’m surprised by this. “We are never going to get anywhere here. And I'm sad I came up here with expectations of a civil agreement,” I say, standing and leaving the office. Jeremy attempts to talk to Paul, but I don’t bother to hear what’s going on with our lawyers because I’m getting the fuck out of here.

  I'm surprised by Barry’s behavior, hurt really, and now I realize this divorce may drag out because I’ve been wrong again about who Barry really is. My freedom is still out of grasp.

  4

  Elena

  I'm sitting in Gerri's office trying to pull my head together. It's been a rough couple days. The cool green lines and modern architecture of her office inspires me. I'm so glad I work here. I've got to put my game face on and not disappoint Gerri today, but I just don't know how. If I could’ve only convinced Barry, my lame soon to be ex-husband, not to be such a jerk then maybe my spirits this afternoon would be higher. Or if I'd been a little luckier in love and my date last night hadn't been a total disappointment then this morning would be a different story. I love my job, but I'm just not feeling up to it now. I hope Gerri doesn't even notice. I put on my poker face . . .

  "Hi, Gerri, I'm here, finally. Sorry I'm a little late, crazy morning."

  "Oh, Elena! There you are. Just the person I was looking for," she says, all bright and charming as usual.

  "We can get started right away. I have this new building project for us that I'm really excited about. Lots of opportunity to go green and change the world," she says.

  At the mention of a new project I do feel excited, but my emotions are troubling me inside. I wish I could tell her why and just lay it all out on the table, but that would be so unprofessional. She is my friend and I can tell her anything but most of all I look up to her, and I wouldn't want any part of my personal life to sway her opinion.

  "You know, Gerri, that sounds fantastic. I can't wait," I lie through my teeth.

  "Alright, well let me pull out the building plans that the architect left this morning. I think you're really gonna like them. There will be lots of opportunity to prove yourself as project manager."

  Oh great, I think at the mention of my promotion. Don't get me wrong, this is my dream job. But with so much to prove, I just wish I had less on my mind. I mean, who can forget the morning I just had? And what about that date last night? It was hands-down horrible. Is this really who's out there for me to date? Is this what I have to look forward to? Endless nights with mediocre men who I could never really love. I mean, I knew dating would be hard, but this is just depressing. I wish I had never gone out. I wish I had stayed snuggled in bed and binged on Netflix or something. It would've been a better idea than wasting my time going out with a creep. What was I even thinking? Couldn't I have been able to tell by his picture? Normally I have such a good read on people. Well, I guess that isn't true of my ex either. What a jerk he's turned out to be. I feel totally blindsided. And the more I think of it, this must mean I have rotten taste in men. I’m so sad.

  "So, the entrance will go there and it will be a giant statement piece. And you saw the other floors I mentioned, right?"

  Oh shit. Gerri's been talking about the new project, and I haven't even lent her an ear. I've been so consumed in my own personal world that I completely zoned her out.

  "Um, yeah, yes. I mean, could you show me those floors again?"

  "Elena, what's wrong? Have you even heard a word I've been saying?"

  Oh man, I've been caught. This is so unlike me not to pay attention. I better just come clean if I still want my new role as project manager.

  "Well, the truth is, I had a terrible night and an even worse morning. I don't know what to say. I dropped the ball. I'm sorry, Gerri; you know this isn’t who I am."

  "What's going on, honey," she asks. "Is it your ex-husband? Is he trying to drag more money out of you? Is that what it is? He knows you got promoted, right?"

  "Yes. Yes to all of it," I sigh. "He's trying to ruin my reputation, and he's just spreading lies."

  "Oh no," she says. "Well, I think he's just trying to prolong the divorce. He knows you've got money now. You have to be strong. And you can’t let him win. Take it from me, your freedom is worth fighting for. You deserve to be happy, and the sooner you realize that the better. Don't waste your time on someone who isn’t even close to worth it."

  Her statements make me feel better. She's really got her life together. She owns this beautiful company, and she's got a mission and a purpose. I want to be like her, but my life is just so messed up right now. I should probably just take her advice, but she doesn't know the half of it. I decide to tell her about my date.

  "Thank you for the advice. But that's not the only reason my head's in the clouds. I had a terrible date last night. I mean, it was
bad. I thought I was ready to enter the dating game, but not if it's going to be like this. This guy was so rude and condescending that it really left a mark on me. I can't seem to forget what happened."

  "You know what? You seem to have had a tough time of it.” Gerri gives me a warm smile and places her hand on my shoulder for a moment. “Why don't you take the rest of the day off? Go relax, spoil yourself. You deserve it, and I can handle things here. I want you back when you're fresh."

  "Wow, thanks for that.” I release a breath that I didn’t even realize I was holding. “I hate to take you up on your offer, but I think it would do me some good."

  "Listen, sweetie, it's all gonna work out in the end. It always does."

  If only I could know that she were right.

  5

  Elena

  I nudge my door open with my left shoulder, carefully balancing a stack of reports on one side and a messenger bag on the other. Kicking off my heels immediately upon walking across the threshold, I unload the contents of my arms onto the nice, clean dining room table. These days it’s more of a work space than anything else.

  I look around, breathing a little sigh of relief at this little window of downtime. I head to the kitchen to open a bottle of wine. As I pop the cork on a bottle, I decide a bath will be a great place to start project relaxation. My head fills with images of myself in a hot bath with soft music. Maybe slipping into a robe and letting my hair down will do me some good. Something about being at home immediately makes me feel a little better. A place of my own, just big enough for one.

  When I moved in, I thought it would make me feel lonely. If anything, living in a house meant for two was the loneliest thing I’ve ever done. My thoughts drift to the home I shared with my ex-husband. At the time, I thought it was everything I wanted. Eventually, it became like living in a museum. It looked like a home, but it had stopped feeling like one long ago.