Chapter Forty-Two
Adam
Three months later…
I drive around the block for twenty minutes, making myself late, before finally pulling into the driveway of the modern two-story house on the best side of town. It’s where Leslie lives with her new boyfriend, and the kids when they’re with her.
I met him once, in passing, not officially. His name is Chris, and he’s a dentist. Average looking guy with a dad bod and bad jokes.
Though she’d told me three months ago she was moving in with him, it went relatively slow.
They couldn’t decide where they wanted to move, and then they found this house, closed on it pretty quickly, and got everything moved in within two days about a week ago.
It’s a nice house, I’ll give them that, and they got it for a good price.
Well under what it’s worth, that’s for sure.
But apparently Chris knows people, so they made out in the deal.
Leslie and I haven’t talked much, outside of planning for the kids and the now and then spat when I’m irritated about this entire situation. She hasn’t lost her cool with me once, and in fact has been very patient, but that only irritates me more.
But I’m here today because we’re filling our divorce papers. I’m not upset about it. What’s bothering me is going into this beautiful house and getting a flash of their perfect life when mine is such a mess still.
The sun is out today—of course it is. And I wait in the car, making myself even more late, until the front door opens and Leslie eyes me with her arms crossed over her chest.
With a huff, I shut the car off, grab my folder from the passenger seat, and head up the steps.
“You’re late.”
“I’m aware.”
“Get lost?”
“No.”
She steps to the side, and I walk into a spacious foyer with a high ceiling, a glass chandelier hanging over the center. The staircase is against the back wall, leading up to a second floor that I can get a small glimpse of from here.
“Would you like a tour?” she asks.
“No, thanks.”
She heads to the right, and I follow after her into a sparkling kitchen with black countertops and new appliances. She takes a seat at the island and gestures for me to sit across from her, so I do—begrudgingly.
“I’m waiting,” she says.
“For what?” I ask.
“Your opinion. Judgment, maybe. You did this for years, Adam. What do you think?”
“It’s very nice,” is what I say.
She huffs an annoyed laugh, shaking her head. “Let me see them.”
I slide the folder over, and she opens it up, flipping through the pages.
We’ve talked about this, and what we’re putting in it.
Both of us, thankfully, have been agreeable and decided to keep the schedule with the kids the same and split custody and financial responsibility fifty-fifty.
Basically, we just want to keep things fair.
It seems logical to me, even if I still wish I could have my kids every single day, all day.
“How’s work?” she asks, her eyes roaming over the page.
“Starting to pick up,” I say. “I’ve sold a couple houses this month already.”
“Look at you being all independent.”
“What the hell does that mean?” I ask, scoffing.
Her eyes flick up to me, but her head stays downward. “Nothing.”
I narrow my eyes but she goes back to the papers. The kids are with her mother at Funland, otherwise I’d be hanging out with them while she looks this over.
“Can I get some water or something?” I ask.
“Sure. Glasses are in the cabinet to the right of the sink, and the fountain works from the fridge.”
I get to my feet to get water, downing the glass before refilling it. I don’t know why I hate being here so much, it just feels weird. This is her life with her new boyfriend, and it feels like I don’t belong here. This isn’t my life, and I don’t like feeling like I’m being forced to be in it.
When I sit back down, I ask, “Where’s Chris?”
“Working.”
“Oh yeah. Dentist, right?”
“Orthodontist. But you already knew that.”
Oh, right. Whoops.
I look around the kitchen, tapping my finger on the glass of water.
“If you want to ask something, just ask,” she finally says.
“There’s nothing I want to ask.”
She looks over each page, and when she’s done, she gets up and digs through a junk drawer for a pen, then signs in all the spots that are labeled for her to sign.
When she’s done, she puts the pages neatly together and closes the folder, sliding it to me.
I grab it, but she keeps her hand on it, not letting me pick it up.
“Before you go—”
I huff an annoyed sound. “What now, Leslie?”
“Relax, Adam. Jesus. Why do you have to be like this?”
“Be like what?”
“Like this. Like we can’t be friends or something.”
I scoff, getting to my feet. “Because we can’t.”
I tug the folder from her grip, and turn to leave.
“I know about Emmet,” she calls after me.
I stop dead in my tracks, feeling her gaze on my back. She didn’t sound angry or upset. She sounded… disappointed, almost. Then her footsteps sound on the tile and she’s standing in front of me.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” she asks with a frown.
I clear my throat, looking down at the woman I shared so much of my life with—so much of my life that seems fake at this point. Like it was all a story I made up for some reason that doesn’t make sense.
“There was nothing to say.”
She smiles cockily. “You’re lying.”
“I’m not,” I say firmly.
“Adam, why are your walls always up? Why don’t you let anyone in?” My blood runs cold, and my vision darkens in the corners. “I’ve known about him for a long time.”
“How long?”
She crosses her arms over her chest, giving me a hard look.
“Since Judy gave him her unicorn mug.”
I huff a laugh, shaking my head.
“He’s the one, isn’t he?”
“Huh? One, what?”
“From all those years ago.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say quickly.
Leslie takes a deep breath and gives me a disappointed look.
“None of us are kids, Adam. We’re adults, we’re mature, we know how to have safe and respectful relationships. I know you had a few tough years before we got together, but don’t let that define your whole life. If you love this Emmet guy, and have since then, it’s okay.”
“It’s—”
She steps closer, putting her hand on my arm. “It doesn’t take away from what we had, it doesn’t make you any less of a father, it doesn’t make you an asshole, and being with a man certainly isn’t wrong.”
I swallow hard, my mouth going dry.
“Judy mentioned him a lot of times, and she always had amazing stories to tell. I assumed he was a friend, but then I’d seen you a couple times, and you seemed happier.
Then Judy mentioned he wasn’t around anymore, and you’ve been in a sour mood, so I put two and two together.
I could have sworn your friend’s name from all those years ago was Evan, but I could have remembered wrong.
It could be Emmet. And I could be very wrong about all of this right now, but don’t forget I’ve known you for a long time, too, Adam.
You’re not as good at hiding yourself as you think you are, and the look on your face right now is a dead giveaway. ”
Her soft gaze stays on me, a contrast to the anxiety swirling in my chest. How is this the same woman who acted so cold toward me for years?
“I have to go. I’m sorry.”
I hurry around her and out the door.
“I’m not your enemy, Adam!” she calls after me as I pound down the steps and hurry to my car. I need to get the hell out of here.