Great, just what I need today.
“Mom,” I greet as I shove the metal-framed door open, not even a little shocked that she doesn’t smile or even attempt to give me a hug when she’s standing before me. My mother has never been the kind of mom to show physical affection, unless it’s a kiss on the cheek at a public event, but that’s just for show.
“I was coming to see you. Are you leaving for the day?”
“No, I was heading out to get something to eat from the coffee shop down the street.” I motion to Steam, which is just a couple of doors down from my dad’s office.
“I’ll join you.”
Great. I inwardly groan. This just keeps getting better.
“Is everything okay?” I ask as she falls into step with me.
“Your dad asked me for a divorce,” she says, like she’s letting me know what color the sky is. I stop in my tracks.
“What?” I turn to face her, sure I misunderstood.
My parents have been together since my mom was twenty-three and my dad was twenty-six. I wouldn’t say it was an arranged marriage, but it still kind of was. My mom’s mother searched until she found someone suitable for her daughter to marry, and that someone happened to be my dad. And Dad’s parents both insisted that my mom would be a good pick for him and pushed him to propose. It wasn’t a love match, nor was it a situation where they learned to love each other over time.
They both resented each other, which led to each of them being vindictive. They should never have wed and really shouldn’t have stayed married. Still, I assumed they would live out the rest of their days together, even if they were miserable doing so.
“It seems your father has decided he no longer wishes to be married to me.” She lifts a delicate hand between us. “As you know, he’s been different since his stroke. So he may change his mind and not go through with this ridiculousness.”
“I… Wow, okay.” I shake my head, trying to get my thoughts in order because this is a lot to take in. I mean, my dad has seemed different since his stroke a few months ago. But if I almost died, then became paralyzed on one side of my body and had to go through intensive therapy, I would probably start looking at life a little differently as well. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to talk to a lawyer and find out what I’m entitled to.” Her eyes wander over my face. “As you should be doing for yourself.”
My stomach twists. “I don’t want anything from Conner.”
“You really must stop being so immature, Bridgett. You were married without a prenup and deserve at least half of what he has.”
“I didn’t go to work with Conner every day, so I don’t deserve anything from him except his signature on our divorce papers. And that is honestly all I want.”
I look into eyes the same color and shape as mine. I let her manipulate me for years and went along with whatever she said out of some stupid need to earn her love and gain her approval—which was a waste of effort on my part. I don’t think she knows what love is, and I doubt she is capable of loving anyone but herself.
“You’re making a mistake. You should at least talk to Conner and try to work things out with him.”
“He cheated on me and treated me like garbage. I know I’ve said it before, but hopefully you’ll hear me this time.” I grit my teeth as I try to get control of the temper I feel slipping. “I’m never getting back with him. I have no desire to live my life never feeling real happiness. Never finding someone who loves me just for me. Having money might be nice, but being able to look at myself in the mirror every day without hating the person looking back at me feels really flipping good. And I would rather be alone than lonely, which is what I was when I was married.”
I take a step away from her. “I’m going to get a coffee before I have to go back to work. I’ll talk to you later.” I walk away without looking back and head down the block to the coffee shop. I’m thankful she doesn’t follow.
After placing an order for a large coffee and a turkey sandwich on rye, I sit at one of the tables and grab my cell phone out of my purse. Staring at the dark screen, I try to think of someone I can call or message just to get the confrontation out of my head, but there’s no one. I don’t have any friends anymore, and I can’t even message my brother to tell him that our parents are getting divorced or to bitch about our mom.
It wasn’t a lie when I said I would rather be alone than lonely. But maybe it’s because I have always been lonely and am used to it now.
Chapter 6
Bridgett
Drinks
Standing in my kitchen, I look down at the cookies I just pulled out of the oven. I don’t know where I went wrong, but it’s obvious I made a mistake somewhere because my cookies do not look anything like they’re supposed to. In fact, they look more like overcooked pancakes with chocolate chips than anything else.
Ken, who was my family’s chef growing up and still cooks for my parents, would be highly disappointed if he saw this disaster. When I was little, I would sneak into the kitchen to hang with him whenever I knew my mom wouldn’t be around. Because Lord knows she would have lost her mind if I told her I wanted to learn to cook and actually enjoyed it. But Ken let me help him anytime I asked and showed me all his tips and tricks for making everything from breakfast to fancy desserts. Obviously, I’ve lost my touch over the last few years.
I shake my head with a groan. Maybe trying to bake Noah cookies was a stupid idea. I don’t even know if he eats sweets. With a body like his, I doubt he does. Using the spatula, I scrape one of the cookies off the tray and take a bite, shrugging at my discovery. They might look like garbage, but they actually taste delicious.
I hear a knock on the door and frown. Heading out of the kitchen toward it, I check the peephole to see who it is—all while praying it’s not my mother. After the confrontation we had earlier today, I’d be happy not seeing her for a very, very long time. But with plans to visit my dad tomorrow after work, I doubt I’ll be that lucky. Because even if my father asked her for a divorce, I’m sure she will still be at the house, making her presence known.
A smile curves my lips, and I swing open the door when I see my brother’s girlfriend, May, on the porch.
“Hey, what are you doing here?” I ask as she steps inside to greet me with a tight hug. The first time she ever hugged me, it completely caught me off guard, and I honestly didn’t know what to do. My family did not hug growing up, and no one else I know is big on hugs either. But…it’s nice.
“I was driving by and thought I’d stop in to see if you’d be interested in going out with me for a drink.”
“Right now?”
“Yes.” She laughs. “I know you’ve been working a lot lately, and we haven’t had a chance to catch up.”
“I’d love to go.” I watch her smile before she looks around with her nose in the air.
“What smells so good?”
“I was making cookies for Noah and—”
“You’re making cookies for Noah?” she cuts me off, her eyes wide.
“Yeah.” I head back to the kitchen. “The day after my car was totaled, he stopped by to bring me my purse and saw that I was looking for a new vehicle.” I lift one shoulder. “He took pity on me and drove me to the dealership, so I wanted to thank him. And since I don’t have a lot of money, making something homemade seemed like the best idea.”