“That’s none of your business.”
“None of my business? So, just like that you’re leaving? Without talking to me? Without telling me where you’re going or how I can get a hold of you?”
“Yes.” His tone as cold as the icicles that form above the door in winter, and as he glanced up from folding his clothes, his brown eyes hardened into a sea of black. Any love he once felt about me vanished in the onyx hue, replaced with hatred blazing in his hot glare. “I’m done talking to you, Rachel. You never listen to anyone. You just do as you want anyway.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Rachel, why don’t you want to have a baby?”
My head jerked backwards, and I blinked several times. Knocked out of balance with a question I hadn’t seen coming, he blindsided me. “I’m sorry, but were you not there at the doctor appointment when he sat us down and told us it would be difficult for me to conceive?”
“Difficult, but not impossible. We could have done in vitro. We could have found a surrogate. We could have filed to adopt.”
“All of which we can’t afford.”
“But yet we could afford this house?”
“How dare you throw that in my face. You were the one who wanted this place and we bought it long before I found out I couldn’t get pregnant.”
“We could sell it.”
“In vitro doesn’t always work, and people can be on adoption lists for years or worse, get picked then the mother pulls out. I couldn’t take another disappointment.”
He pointed his finger at me. “That’s the problem. You decided you couldn’t take the disappointment, so you made me live without.”
“You’ve never told me how you felt.”
He ducked his chin and exhaled a deep breath.
I glanced up at the ceiling. The day slowly began unraveling like a knitted blanket with a snag caught in either the door of an elevator or a fast-moving subway car. Whether I wanted it to or not, the seams yanked apart more and more with each second.
He zipped the suitcases closed, and the sound, so quiet, ached in my chest.
“Well, I’m telling you now. I want a family, Rachel. I want children. I want more out of this life and I’m going to get it. I’m sorry it’s not with you, but that’s not my fault. I want a divorce.”
Tears blurred my vision, leaving him a silhouette in the light of the room. “So, you’re just done? You don’t want to stay and—”
“Sarah’s pregnant. She’s pregnant and she’s having my child. Our child. I love her and I want to marry her.” Paul grasped the handles of his suitcases and made his way over to Sarah. As he reached for her hand, she dropped the blanket. While she covered her breasts, she didn’t cover the tiny bump in her stomach. Her pregnant stomach. “My lawyer will contact you in a few days. Goodbye, Rachel.”
As he strode out of the bedroom door, my rump hit the ground. I buried my face in my hands as my sobs echoed through the silence of the room. Unable to breath, I clutched my chest. The room around me began to spin, circling around me in a dizzy haze.
FOUR
May 1996
“Your divorce papers should be ready to sign before lunch.” My attorney’s voice boomed from my cell phone as I strode through the sea of cubicles toward my office. Although his words resonated through my mind, they, along with their meaning, blurred together—a lack of recognition caused me to pause.
“Did you say they are ready to sign?” I asked, shaking my head.
“Yes, ma’am. They should be on my desk around lunch.”
That’s it? Is this really the end?
After all the weeks and weeks of spending countless hours going over our assets and liabilities, terms Paul and I argued about through two men and a telephone, we were finally done? Done with fighting over possessions like children playing tug of war with their toys. Done with the battles, both short and long, and some utterly ridiculous, like the one over his mother’s Persian rug in our dining room and the one over my collection of antique books.
Why would he ever want those? And why would I want his mother’s rug?
We ripped everything apart, including each other.
Down to nothing but shreds, the woman I once was became nothing more than a tattered piece of my former self. A piece so broken and shattered, I was almost unrecognizable. A piece so bitter and resentful, the thought of love and marriage now rode in the passenger seat of a car driven by Satan himself.
I hated the notion of forever.
I loathed the notion of lust.
Reading about it every day in some foolish manuscript written by some in-love author who still believed had been the hardest burden of all, and my lack of enthusiasm left me with no promotion and a stack of unread novels I passed on to other people just so I wouldn’t have to suffer through the pain.
I hesitated at my office door, staring at the nameplate hanging in front of me. The white letters of my soon-to-be former name caused a lump in my throat. I thought they would have fixed that by now.
I guess I thought wrong.
“Um, I guess I’ll just stop by to sign them in an hour, then.”
“No problem. I’ll be sure to let Ellen know you are coming.”
“Thank you, Mr. Stein.”
As I snapped the phone shut, a few of my co-workers glanced up, watching me. While some clutched their hearts with their hands, others frowned with sad eyes like puppies waiting for someone to adopt them at the pound, only to see the people pass by them without a second thought. On to another dog or cat they believed they liked better or who looked better on the outside, like the difference between a smooth coat and perky ears to a longhaired and matted mutt who was a little on the pudgy side.
Surely, I was the latter. Why else would they show such pity?
My eyes focused on the glass built into the sides of the walls, tracing my reflection. My appearance certainly left little to be desired this morning with my hair in a messy bun, and a wardrobe consisting of a sweatshirt and yoga pants. Shoulder deep in stress left me barely able to leave my apartment, much less leaving it fully dressed in a nice suit, complete with a hairstyle and make-up.
“Rachel?” Marlene strolled out of the copy room, almost dropping the two stacks of papers she carried in her arms.
Ignoring her, I ducked my chin to my chest and retreated into my office.
“Rachel, wait.” She trotted after me. “I didn’t know you were coming in today.”
“I’m just here to pick up a couple of manuscripts I need to read before the end of the next week. I tried to see if someone else wanted them, but no one had the time, so I figure I could at least knock them out at home with no distractions.”
She paused in the doorframe for a moment before entering my office, her eyes wide. “Wow. You look like hell.”
“Gee, thanks.”
She rested one hand on her hip as she cocked her head to the side. “Oh, come on, have you even looked in a mirror? You can’t possibly think this is a good look.”
“Well, I did take the day off. Am I not allowed to dress comfortably on my day off?”
“It’s not just your clothes. You know that’s not what I meant. So, what’s going on?”
I shrugged.
“You know I am here for you, been here for you through all this time. I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s going on.”
I adjusted my bun as I sat in my chair. A chair I’d sat in over a dozen times in the last few months not only reading what few manuscripts I could stomach and sending out contract offers but gathering information and paperwork for my divorce. How many escrow papers or tax forms had rested on this desk? How many furniture appraisals? How many times had I slammed down the phone in anger, groaning as I shook my fists in the air over something foolish Paul had done or said?
“My attorney called me, and the divorce papers are ready. I’m headed over there in an hour to sign them.”
“Wow. So, he finally agreed with you?”
“No.”
I gave her a fleeting glance then spun around in my chair to face the windows. “I finally agreed with him.”
“What? Why?”
Fighting the answer, my gaze drifted out upon the dozens of other buildings standing tall in the skyline. Nothing but steel and glass, each one, just as the one I sat in, had stood the test of time in this world.
I wanted to be one of them.
“I did it to be done with the divorce. I’m so sick of all the fighting and I’m sure he is, too. I just want the freedom from the stress, from it all.”
“So that’s that?”
“Yeah, Paul gets the house with everything in it and I get a chunk of money.”
“He gets the house? After all the arguments you went through because he wanted to sell it cheap to get rid of it and now, he wants it?”
“I don’t know what happened, but yes, he decided to keep it.”
Those words caused my head to begin spinning. Once again thoughts of all our bank accounts, retirement accounts, life insurance—mine and his—all weaved a pattern of numbers circling around and around along with the appraisal of the house and its contents. I may have lost my house to him and his whore, but I’d gained a lot of money.
And it was enough, some would say, to make me walk out of this the winner.
Ha. The winner.
Was anyone a winner in this situation? Paul? Sarah? Me?
While Paul got what he wanted—a family—he had to live with the guilt of what he’d done—if he felt any. And while Sarah now had him, his character was now as tarnished as those wedding pictures that once hung on the walls of the staircase. He was no longer a catch in my eyes. He was a cheater and a liar, and one no woman should ever trust with her whole heart. Would he do the same to her as soon as the love and laughter wore off? As soon as she made him even an ounce unhappy, would he find another woman?
More than likely.
And then where will she be?
“You should have seen the laughable appraisal they faxed to Mr. Stein.” I spun the chair back around to face Marlene and rested one of my elbows on my desk.
“That bad, huh?”
“He had to have paid the guy to lie. There is no other reason why it came back as different as the one I paid for.”
“Well, I can’t imagine a coffee barista makes a lot of money.”
“No, she doesn’t, but I found out her dear old daddy does, so not being able to afford buying me out of my half wasn’t the reason for his pretext. He just wanted to be a jerk. Period.”
“I wonder what made him change his mind.” Marlene shook her head. “I mean, doesn’t either of them want their own place? Why live in a place he lived in with another wife?”
“I have no idea.” I shrugged my shoulders. “Although, I suppose for a woman to spend almost a year sharing a husband, why wouldn’t she be okay with sharing the same house?”
“Well, he sure found himself a freak, didn’t he? I wouldn’t want to live in some other woman’s house. Not after I broke up their marriage.”
“I really don’t care what she does or thinks.” Desiring nothing more than to end this conversation, I heaved three bound manuscripts from my desk drawer and slapped them on my desk. “I don’t care what Paul does or thinks, either. I’m no longer legally obligated to him.”
“Well, yeah, but still.”
I rose to my feet and grabbed the stacks of paper, tucking them under my arm as I grasped the handles of my purse. “I better get going if I’m going to make my appointment. I told Mr. Gilmore I was taking the rest of the week off. I’ll be back on Monday.”
“Wait.” She grabbed my arm. “Do you want to meet for drinks at The Duce tonight?”
“No, I think I’m just going to catch up on this work.”
She cocked her head to the side, shifting her lips to one side of her face in an annoyed frown. “You really should get out of that crappy little apartment you’re renting more often, ya know.”
“I get out.”
“When? We haven’t done anything in weeks. You know what you need? You need to go out, have several drinks, meet a hot guy, and have a crazy, one-night stand.”
“No, that is not what I need.”
“It will totally make you feel better.”
“I doubt that.”
“Well, what about Saturday night? I’m going to Club Ivy with some friends. You should join us. A few drinks. A little bit of dancing. You might actually enjoy yourself and have some fun.”
“I’ll think about it.”
She raised her hand and pointed a finger in my face. “You better. I’ll give you a call in the afternoon to give you the details. I think we might eat first, but I’ll let you know.”
Marlene’s words repeated in my head throughout the trip across town. While several drinks sounded like a good time, the hot guy and a crazy, one-night stand didn’t. Well, actually, it did, but I really didn’t want to admit it. It’d been so long, of course, the desire perked with just the thought. However, I’d been with Paul so long the thought of someone new downright terrified me, and the lingering shuddered down my skin.
Yeah, that’s the last thing I need.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Levine.” Although I smiled at the receptionist, the sound of my own name made me cringe.
“I’m here to see Mr. Stein.”
“Yes, of course. He said to have you wait in his office.” She spun her chair, but I stopped her before she could stand.
“You don’t have to take me down there. I know where it is.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I’ll see myself there.”
As she nodded, the phone rang, and she gave me a wave as she grabbed the receiver.
Still bothered by the thought of meeting someone new, I walked through my attorney’s office thinking nothing of what I was about to do. Out of sight, out of mind, came to me and I nearly snorted a laugh with the thought.
Just sign the papers and you’re done. You’re free.
I opened the door to the office, and caught my breath as I looked at a pair of familiar eyes staring back at me, just as shocked to see me, as I was to see them.
“Hello, Rachel.” Paul rose to his feet, dropping the pen in his hand onto the desk as he clutched Sarah’s shoulder. “Uh, we just stopped by to sign . . . well, our lawyer is out of town, and . . . well, Mr. Stein said we could sign the papers here.”
We stopped by? Our lawyer? We could sign?
I cocked my head to the side. “I didn’t know the new girlfriend signs the divorce papers, too. I thought it was just the cheater and the soon-to-be ex-wife? But what do I know? I’m not a lawyer.”
“Well, we were just leaving.” His gaze dropped from mine. The last several months had changed him, or perhaps it was the love of another woman, I didn’t know or care to know. A different haircut sat on the top of his head and a different style of clothes draped his body. He looked disgustingly happy, even though the embarrassment hinted through him. Like a man, suddenly living the life of his dreams away from the former chains bounding him.
As Sarah stood next to him, her growing belly popped out even more from underneath her dress, a bump, one could only see from the side or front, but not from behind as she hadn’t gained an ounce of weight—one of those perfectly pregnant women every other woman envied. A huge diamond sparkled from her left hand as she rubbed her stomach, and her blonde curls, cut several inches shorter than I had remembered, bounced, a few of the strands caught in her elegantly mascara-laced eyelashes.
The vision of every wife’s nightmare, pregnancy glowed on her, flawlessly.
And here I stood a mess.
Of course, I had to see them when I looked like this. I couldn’t have done my hair and make-up and came in a nice suit? Nope. I had to look like hell as Marlene had mentioned earlier.
Ugh.
“It’s a boy,” she said, noticing my eyes trace her. “We’re naming him Liam after Paul’s grandfather.”
A soft chuckle
snorted through my nose. “Like I care.”
Her ruby red lips pierced with a sense of loathing and she grabbed Paul’s hand. “Come on, baby, let’s go get some lunch. Daddy said he wants to meet us at the golf club to go over some wedding plans.” She glanced at me as they passed, slowing her stride. “It’s going to be the event of the season, you know. Daddy is sparing no expense and I’m going to be the most beautiful bride. Far prettier than you were, and I should know since I was the one who burned your wedding pictures. I hope you didn’t want them.”
“Nope. Instead you just saved me from having to buy the lighter fluid. Enjoy walking down the aisle toward a cheater. Knowing his history, you might want to inform your daddy he shouldn’t waste his money.”
Her mouth dropped open.
“Come on, babe.” Paul tugged on her arm. “Pay no attention to what she says. I never loved her like I love you.”
I closed my eyes with Paul’s choice of words, opening them as I fled over to the window and kept my back to them as they left the office.
Cars drove along the roads below, taking people different places—their lives all humming along while mine crumbled to pieces.
I need to get over him. He’s obviously moved on.
While I still mourned the death of our marriage, letting it consume my sanity, he had begun to live a new life. I hated him, and yet I missed him all at the same time, a confusing pendulum of emotions that robbed me of my ability to think or to eat most days.
“Ah, Miss Levine.” Mr. Stein closed the door behind him. “I’m sorry for the . . . well, I thought they would be finished before you arrived.”
“Don’t worry about it. And, it’s Miss Grey, now, if you don’t mind.” I faced him. “Or at least it will be as soon as you file those papers and I can get my name changed back.”
“Of course, Miss Grey. My apologies. I have your paperwork and your check.”
I strode over to the desk and slid into the seat Paul vacated only moments ago. The warmth of the leather burned through my annoyance as another hint of him whispered across my skin.
“Just sign on all the highlighted lines.”
Another Yesterday Page 4
