Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 91937 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91937 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
“Um, I want to thank you for taking my call.” I look out the window at Wyatt running for the ball, a huge smile on his face.
“I spoke to Brady,” she begins, “but how about you fill me in a bit more?”
“Sure,” I start to say and fill her in, not skipping over anything.
“So for the past six months has the divorce been finalized?”
“No,” I huff. “I’ve been trying and trying; he refuses to sign the papers, and my last lawyer wasn’t in a rush.”
“Well, it’s a good thing,” she says, “because now I’m here, and I’m going to make him wish he’d signed those papers six months ago.”
My eyes go wide. “He owes you back child support, plus alimony, plus I want to go after him for emotional damage and distress.”
“Um,” I say nervously, “I don’t think you understand who we are talking about.”
“No, I don’t think they understand who they are talking about,” she snaps. “They have no idea who they’re up against. I will tie them up in so much fucking litigation that they will be begging me to give in.” She laughs. “God, this is going to be fun.” And I swear I can see her smile over the phone. “I think I have everything I need from you. If there is anything else, my secretary will call you, and if not, I will.”
“Um, Ryleigh,” I hesitate, “we haven’t spoken about how much this will cost me.”
“That’s the fun part of this,” she chirps, “I’m also suing them for lawyer fees.”
“But what if you lose?”
“Oh, I’m not going to lose,” she declares confidently. “There is no way in hell I am going to lose to them.” She exhales. “And if I do, then we’ll talk about it.”
“Okay, should I send you a retainer?”
“Done already.” She shocks me, and my eyes fly to the window. “I’ll speak to you soon. Expect an email in a couple of days.” She quickly hangs up the phone, and I just sit here with it to my ear. Her words echo in my ears. Done already. What does that even mean?
Pushing myself from the table, I walk over to the window at the side and look out. Brady spots me and says something to Wyatt, who nods at him and starts running to the front door.
The front door swings open, and I see Wyatt coming in, his cheeks pink as he pants out, kicking his shoes off. “Brady has to go to work,” he announces, and I get up from the table as he storms into the kitchen to grab something to drink.
“Mr. Thatcher,” I remind him, and he looks over at me while Brady fills the doorway.
“He told me to call him Brady.” He grabs the iced tea I made this afternoon.
“You okay?” Brady asks from the front door, and I look over at Wyatt before walking to him.
“Yeah, she said the retainer was taken care of,” I ask him, and he puts his hand in the back pocket of his jeans while my eyes go to his meaty thighs. “What did she mean by that?”
“I have to get to the bar.” He avoids answering the question. “See you tomorrow,” he says. “Later, Wyatt!” he shouts to the kitchen.
“Later, Brady!” Wyatt hollers back as if he’s been doing it his whole entire life.
Brady takes one more look at me, his eyes staring into mine, leaving me breathless as he walks out the door and closes it behind him. I watch him walk across the lawn to his house, getting into the truck and taking off. My chest squeezes when it comes to me that no one except for Mr. Mendelson has cared about what has happened to me in the last six months. Not since my father has passed away has anyone really fucking given a shit. The thought alone makes the tears fall over my lower lids.
“You okay, Mom?” Wyatt asks softly from beside me. I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn’t even hear him come out of the kitchen.
“Yeah, baby,” I confirm, wiping the tears away from my face and smiling at him. For the first time in a long time, I think I am okay. “You hungry?”
“Yeah.” He watches me, smiling and skipping to the kitchen. He eats two plates of chicken and potatoes, and bedtime is quick tonight. It always is quick when it’s a full day of school, plus he played outside before and after dinner.
I sit on the stoop in my shorts and tank top, telling myself I need to get my ass back into the house. There is no fucking way I should be sitting on my front porch waiting for Brady to come home. My life is complicated enough without dragging him into it, but nothing will stop me from talking to him tonight. The clock turns nine on my phone when the headlights come down the street. My eyes watch, waiting, then I see the red truck drive by. I can see his head looking at me as he pulls into his driveway.