Bittersweet Surrender

by Q. B. Tyler

  “Yes.”

  “And you think that Mr. Wells isn’t going to put two and two together if he sees you two together? You two just realized your feelings right when you signed? Nothing at all before?”

  “Well at that point it shouldn’t matter. We’ll be divorced, names signed, the end. Right?”

  “Wow. You are ruthless.”

  “Will is the endgame.” I shake my head. “I’ve come too far to just…give him up, and that isn’t an option. So, if I have to deal with an ex-husband that lives here that I have to see from time to time, then so be it. We aren’t going to rub it in his face; for the first few months we will be lying low, but at some point, it should be expected that I move on.”

  “Charley, you need to be careful. Scorned ex-husbands don’t always go away so quietly. Should I even bother negotiating alimony payments? They’re going to be null and void the second you walk down that aisle. I assume you’ll be getting married rather soon?”

  “Not right away.”

  “You know that the payments stop the day you remarry.”

  I nod. “That’s fine. I don’t need him to pay me anything. The settlement should be more than enough.” At this point, I should be coming out of this marriage with a little over half a million after taxes in terms of all our liquid assets. Matt had finally been convinced to sell, so our house will be going on the market at the end of the month.

  “Just…be careful,” he says. After a few moments he speaks again. “Was it Montgomery who figured out about your stepfather?”

  “Yes.”

  He seems impressed. “Good man.”

  “He’s the best,” I whisper.

  “But a shitty marriage counselor.”

  * * *

  I’M PULLED FROM MY SLUMBER by knocking on Lauren’s apartment door. Pushing the blankets back, I rush to answer it, not wanting to miss whoever it is. I peek through the tiny window eyeing a delivery man on the other side. I open the door and he smiles at me, holding a vase of white roses in each hand. “Good morning, Ms. Pierce, special delivery for you.”

  Twenty-four long-stemmed roses, and I know exactly who they’re from.

  Remembering social etiquette, I head back to my bedroom to grab my wallet. “Oh, hold on let me get—” I start when he raises his hand to stop me.

  “No, ma’am, it’s already been taken care of. Happy birthday,” he says, and before I can protest again, he disappears out the front door. A card is nestled inside one of the bouquets and I reach for it.

  Happy Birthday to the love of my life.

  Looking forward to seeing you later to celebrate

  the first of many birthdays together.

  I’m so glad that you were born.

  I love you,

  WM

  It’s not lost on me that I’ve only been twenty-nine for about eight hours, seven and a half of which I was sleeping, and Will has already wished me happy birthday twice. It is so different from last year when the man that supposedly loved me never mentioned it at all. I run to my room, excitedly, and pull out my Blackberry to call him immediately. I’m met with his voicemail, and realize he’s probably in a session. I decide to text him and mid-sentence my phone whirls to life.

  “Hi!” I chirp cheerfully, my lips widening into a smile so wide that my cheeks hurt.

  “There’s my birthday girl. How are you?”

  “I’m good, wonderful. Thank you for my flowers, they are so beautiful.”

  “You’re welcome, I know that white roses don’t symbolize love quite like red ones do, but I know they’re your favorite.”

  He’s right; white roses are my favorite flower, and despite Matt knowing this he—well, his assistant—always defaulted to red or yellow roses.

  “I’m glad that you like them…and as much as I hate to cut this short, I have to get back to my session.”

  “Wait, you called me in the middle of a session?”

  “I told them it was an emergency, it’s okay.”

  The tears flood my eyes as his simple words, that hold so much meaning, wash over me. “But—it wasn’t an emergency.”

  “Baby, anything with you is top priority. If you call me, it’s important. I will always make time to talk to you. You’ve been on my no-wait list for months.”

  “No-wait list?” I ask.

  “Yes, if you call the office, Vanessa knows to put you through no questions asked.”

  My mind drifts back to the early days when I didn’t have my secret Blackberry, and I would call his office to not have his personal cell on my phone records. I always wondered how I got through so fast, knowing that Will is a very sought-after counselor and often has back-to-back sessions. I didn’t understand how I could get him so easily on the phone. Now I do. I lick my lips as his words not only move me, but turn me on.

  Over and over again, his words and actions prove to me that he is nothing like my soon-to-be ex-husband. He’s kind and considerate and courteous. He’s the man I should have been with from the beginning.

  I’m driving to my lawyer’s office for my meeting with Matthew and our lawyers when my phone rings.

  “Hi again,” I purr.

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t talk earlier,” he tells me and hearing those unfamiliar words render me speechless.

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t talk earlier.” Not “I can’t talk right now. I’ll call you later,” and then doesn’t. Or acting as if I’m a bother when I do call. Who is this amazing human? Am I that jaded that I truly believe that Will would change from the caring man that he’s been all along? “Charley?” I hear him say and I wonder how many times he’s said my name while I was stuck in my head.

  “I’m here,” I say, my bottom lip trapped between my teeth as I think about all the things I want to do to the man on the other end. “When can I see you?” Last night, after a heavily sexual Skype date, he promised that we would see each other today, no matter what. It may have been the orgasms talking, but I was holding him to that.

  I just pray that Matt doesn’t have anyone following me.

  “Anxious, are we?” he says in a low voice that causes goose bumps to pop up all over my skin.

  “Yes,” I breathe out.

  “Me too,” he growls. “Will you meet me at our house?”

  I smile hearing him refer to our house so casually as if he’s been doing it for years. “I would meet you anywhere. What time?”

  “Maybe around seven?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Park in the garage. I’ll leave it open for you.”

  “Okay. Are we staying the night there?”

  “I thought we could,” he says, and my body comes alive thinking about our first night in our new house. “I know it’s risky but…there’s only so long I can go without seeing you. The need to see you sometimes is so great, I can’t breathe,” he says as if he can hear my thoughts about Matt finding out about us.

  His words send a jolt of electricity through me, touching me every way it can. My head, my heart, my soul, my sex. I didn’t know it was possible to be so unbelievably moved and turned on at the same time. “I feel the same,” I say, unsure of how I manage to get the words out.

  “Bottom line, Charley, you’re worth the risk. You always have been.” I can’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. I didn’t know a man could love a woman like this. Love me like this.

  “Charlotte,” I hear from behind me before I enter our usual room for an hour of cold looks and harsh words as we attempt to divvy up five years of marriage. I turn around and Matt walks toward me, his hands tucked in his pockets as if he’s not looking to start an argument, rather as if he comes in peace.

  I don’t. Just seeing him reminds me of the last time we were in the same room. Suddenly, I feel angry all over again. Just keep it together, Charley.

  “Matt.” I nod and turn to walk through the door when he grabs my elbow gently and squeezes. My eyes dart to his hand on my elbow and then back to his face. Through narrowed slits,
I glare at him. “Yes?” I hiss venomously.

  He lets me go as if he’s been burned. “I just wanted…” He shrugs and I actually see the hurt in his eyes. “Happy birthday.”

  He actually remembered this year. Wow. I nod. “Thank you, Matt.”

  He nods. “Are you doing anything today?”

  Yes, letting my boyfriend fuck me within an inch of my life. “Nothing in particular. I think Lauren wanted to do something,” I lie smoothly.

  He nods again. “Well, I was thinking…” he says quietly as if he’s scared to say the words. “We could have dinner and talk?”

  My eyes widen. What could he possibly have to say? I entertain this whole “let me try and be nice to Charley because I fucked up and forgot her birthday last year AND she just found out what a liar I am” charade, but my patience only goes so far. “Talk about what? The year of lies you’ve been sitting on?”

  Glass houses, Charley. Put down the stone.

  “I know you hate me, Charlotte…but I can explain.”

  “No, you fucking can’t,” I bite out and walk through the door, not caring what he has to say.

  The hour of negotiations is pretty tame today. I let Cromack do most of the talking as I stare down at the ring Will gave me under the table and fantasize about being underneath him tonight. I happen to tune in just as Cromack and Stein begin to discuss the artwork on the main floor of our house. Matt can have them. I never even liked all of those tacky pieces he chose. There was a gallery in New York I was in love with that had an entire theme that I wanted, but Matt felt it was too feminine and therefore nixed all of my ideas.

  How did I not see it from the beginning? His disdain for me and all of my choices, my ideas, my dreams. Hell, after he made me quit my job, I’d expressed an interest in publishing because it was something that I could do from home, but he’d talked me out of it before I could even blink. “Publishing houses are a dying career,” he had told me. “Everything is done virtually, anyway. Amazon, e-books; they’re the way of the future. No one buys hardcover books anymore.”

  I certainly do, and I happen to know a certain doctor that fucked me against a massive bookshelf filled with hardcover books.

  My mind drifts to Will, and the excitement over seeing him tonight, sends a spark to my sex. It’s been a week to the day since I’ve seen him and all I want is to curl up in his arms and make love through the night. Tears spring to my eyes as I feel the situation beginning to take a serious toll on me.

  “Ms. Pierce?”

  I clear my throat, attempting to hide the tears that have formed. “Yes?”

  “Is that okay with you?”

  “Is what okay with me?” My cheeks heat up, realizing everyone in the room knows I’m not paying attention.

  “Cromack, your client is not taking today seriously, and I don’t have time for it. She’s disconnected from this entire process. I can’t—” Matt’s lawyer starts when a familiar sound fills the room.

  Matt’s cell phone.

  “Didn’t I advise that you need to at least have the decency to silence your mobile device, Mr. Wells?” Cromack asks as he fiddles with his pen. “It’s disruptive and frankly disrespectful.”

  “Relax, Cromack. My client is a very busy man,” Stein argues back all the while I watch Matt looking at his phone.

  “I do have to take this.” He looks around the room, his eyes stopping on mine almost apologetically, and I can’t stop my eyes from rolling to the back of my head as he leaves the room.

  “I couldn’t imagine why you two have marital problems,” Cromack muses aloud.

  Stein looks down at his memo pad before putting his face in his hands, assumedly just as irritated with Matt. A few minutes later, Matt returns, taking his seat across from the table, and his eyes find mine. An outsider looking in would say that his demeanor hasn’t changed from earlier, but I can read his body language, I know his expressions. He’s pissed.

  But…why?

  I fight the urge to ask if everything is okay, but then I remember that I’m still angry with him. Do I really care if one of his deals fell through? Or if one of his subordinates fucked up a contract?

  No. I don’t.

  I turn my gaze back to Cromack. “Shall we continue?” I ask.

  “I know we haven’t discussed this in detail, but I would just like to make it clear that I refuse—absolutely refuse to pay alimony. I’m not supporting you, Charlotte.” His green eyes are so cold, almost venomous as they bore into mine.

  “I never asked you to.”

  “No, you’re just taking half of everything I’ve earned.” He holds his hand up, effectively silencing my lawyer. “I know. I KNOW, Georgia is a no-fault state, but it’s fucked up that you get half of everything I worked hard for. Fine, I have to, whatever.” He waves his hand. “But I’ll be damned if you get another penny out of me when the ink on our divorce papers dries.” He shakes his head, his tongue running over his front two teeth, another telltale sign that he’s severely agitated.

  “Matt, I don’t know where this hostility is coming from all of a sudden, but don’t take your work shit out on me.”

  He chuckles, his hands finding his eyes. “You’re so good at playing the victim, aren’t you?” His eyes narrow, the smile leaving his face to the point that he’s almost void of emotion.

  I don’t know this look. I’ve never seen this look.

  I look away, not wanting to hold his penetrating gaze for another second. “Let’s proceed,” Stein says.

  “It seems both parties are clearly not in a good space at the moment. Might I suggest a short recess or perhaps reconvening on Monday?” Cromack interjects.

  “Monday,” Matt says. His voice is even, yet still cold. “I honestly can’t look at you another second.” His voice is laced with anger and resentment before he’s up and out of the door.

  I’m walking through the garage of my lawyer’s office, my nerves still unsettled over the switch in Matt’s demeanor. My phone rings and I dig through my purse to find it. When I see the name flash across the screen, I flinch. “Fuck!”

  Mama Wells. Okay, Charley. You knew you were going to have to deal with this eventually. Now or never.

  I climb into my car, knowing that this conversation may hinder my ability to keep myself upright.

  “Mama Wells,” I say using my nickname for her.

  “I didn’t even think you’d answer,” she says and I don’t detect any anger in her voice, only sadness. “Hello, darling.”

  “How…how are you?” I rest my back against the seat and let my shoulders sag.

  “I’ve been better…seems I’m losing a daughter.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut as I feel the prickling in my scalp begin. Don’t cry, Charley. Don’t cry. “I should have called you,” I say honestly. “I’m sorry that I didn’t. It just…it got to be too much, Marian. You have to know I tried. So hard.”

  I hear her sniffle and ice rattling against a glass and I wonder if she’s poured herself a stiff drink to help get her through this conversation with her estranged daughter-in-law. “Don’t give up on him, Charley. Don’t give up on my baby. He’s just—lost.”

  “I didn’t give up on him, he gave up on me. A long time ago. Or did he just tell you I left him out of nowhere?” I ask harsher than I intend.

  “I’m no stranger to a man that works too much and doesn’t always put his wife first. Matthew’s father was like that. I put up with it…on top of the abuse. I guess that makes you stronger than me, huh?” After all of this time, I can still hear the pain in Marian’s voice when she discusses Matt’s father, but she’s also developed a defense mechanism for it. Dark humor.

  “No,” I whisper. I’m the furthest thing from strong. Some would probably say that I’m weak. I was weak to the urges and gave in to the temptation of sleeping with a man that wasn’t my husband. “I’m not stronger than you in the slightest. You’re the strongest person I know, Marian.”

  And it’s the truth. Knowing
what she had been through…what she sacrificed, she was admirable and brave. I look up to her more than she knows.

  “I couldn’t protect Matt then, and I can’t protect him now.” Protect him from me, I assume? From the pain I’m inflicting? Matt’s father physically abused both Matt and Marian for years before, finally, one day when Matt was fifteen, he fought back.

  And won.

  After that Marian thought everything would get better. Matt begged her to leave, but she never did. Granted, Matt’s father never hit either one of them again, but the decade of damage had already been done. Matt hated his father and their relationship was broken beyond repair. A year after that, Matt’s father died from cirrhosis of the liver after he’d spent years soaking it in whiskey.

  Matt didn’t attend the funeral.

  She hiccups and only now do I realize how much she’s put away. “There’s no hope for you two?” she whispers and I feel a tear slide down my cheek as I realize this breakup with my husband’s mother will be harder on me than the one with my actual husband.

  “No, Marian. There isn’t. We both need to move on. We’re different people now.”

  “You won’t come see me anymore, will you?” She sniffles and I feel my heart break hearing her words.

  “Of course, I will,” I say, the words flying out of my mouth before I even have a chance to think about how my new husband will feel about the relationship I intend to keep with my ex-husband’s mother.

  “Do you have plans today? I know it’s a special day for you. Happy birthday by the way,” she says and I know it’s taking everything out of her to try and be happy for me. I don’t have a chance to answer when she says, “I have something for you. Would you like to have dinner tonight?”

  I feel all of the air leave my lungs. “Marian…I have plans tonight, but we can get together soon, okay?”

  “Next week sometime?” she asks sadly but with a hint of hope in her voice.

  “Okay,” I say, again without thinking but I smile when I hear her gasp.