Keeley
eight
“Simon, this really isn’t a good time,” I answered, exasperated. I was trying to read Hannah a story, and my cell phone had been ringing off the hook for thirty minutes. I’d gone out to check what the emergency was, only to realize it was Simon calling.
“It won’t take long.”
“No. I’ll call you back in fifteen.” I hung up, but he called straight back. I ended the call without answering it, but it was too late. I shouldn’t have brought my cell phone into Hannah’s room.
He called again.
I hung up.
His name flashed on the screen again.
“What?” I growled. “You have one minute.”
“Are you having trouble coping?” he asked, his voice low like he was whispering.
“What? Where did you get that idea from?”
“You’re snapping at me.”
I huffed. “I’m snapping because you won’t take the hint to stop calling. I’m in the middle of something important, and you keep interrupting me. Now, what did you need so urgently that it couldn’t wait fifteen minutes?”
“I wanted to talk about Hannah’s care, how she should grow up. I’m concerned about her best interests. It’s important that we do this right.”
I saw red, anger exploding in me with the strength of Vesuvius erupting. How dare he? Did he think I didn’t have her best interests at heart? Or that I wasn’t giving my everything?
“You have no say in anything to do with Hannah. Not the way I’m raising her or what’s in her best interests, Simon.” I bit my tongue, trying to prevent this from turning into a fight.
As angry as I was, my words were a lie. We were separated, yes, but technically he was still legally Hannah’s foster father.
We’d submitted an adoption application together.
It didn’t matter that I’d advised the agency that we were separated and I was proceeding on my own.
Until the divorce was finalized, my adoption application was our application.
It was the sole reason why I was drawing out the whole process—I needed the divorce before the adoption approval, and I’d only learned of its importance a few months ago.
My self-centered dream of Hannah not having any other family had come true.
Her mom was an only child. Her best friend had early onset Parkinson’s and needed a full-time carer herself.
Hannah’s grandmother was in a care home with dementia, and Hannah’s father had been killed in action.
He’d grown up in the system himself. There was no one to look after Hannah.
I’d begged the universe to give me my little girl for more than emergency care, and my wish had been granted.
Now I was at risk of a custody battle if I didn’t time everything right.
“We were happy together,” Simon stated.
I rolled my eyes, put my cell phone down, and hit mute, then went back to reading Hannah Where is the Green Sheep?
I could still hear his one-way lecture despite it being the last thing I wanted to listen to.
But maybe if he thought I’d heard him out, he’d back off and stop calling and texting every day.
“We should give my suggestion a try, Keeley.” He wasn’t pleading.
He was bargaining, setting out his case.
I’d helped him prepare his speech to his boss when he’d been vying for promotion to his senior agent role.
The way his intonation was measured and calm lulled unsuspecting people into trusting him. That wasn’t gonna happen with me.
“Hannah could grow up with her brother. Robbie is such a good boy. She’d love him, and I know you will too.
Just imagine it—we could get a place together, a nice big house that we could all put in for and live as one big, happy family.
We could pick somewhere with plenty of space for the kids to play.
If you sold your place, we’d even have a great down payment. ”
I narrowed my eyes, shooting a glance toward my cell phone.
Was he serious? Scrap that—of course he was serious.
He always was. That was his angle, though.
Get access to my house—if I sold it and we bought something together, he’d probably be entitled to half when his ridiculous plan inevitably went pear-shaped.
Who knew if his mistress would too? There was no way I was risking that.
He continued speaking, trying to persuade me with every one of his arguments.
“You wouldn’t be alone anymore. You wouldn’t be lonely.
You’d have help—you and Amanda could watch the babies together.
You could take it in turns and have some time to yourself.
We could go on dates, just you and me while Amanda looks after Hannah—quality time, you know? ”
Quality time. That was his word for sex. Hey, hon, you in the mood for some quality time? Urgh. I shuddered. Nope.
“You like Amanda. You’ve always gotten along well. Wouldn’t it be better if Hannah grew up in a loving family? Had a baby brother and another mom? Had me?”
Hannah is growing up in a loving family, thank you very much, asshole.
I shook my head and tried to keep my voice even for Hannah’s sake as I read about swing and slide sheep.
It was a good thing that I’d memorized every word of this book because my mind was going a mile a minute, and I wasn’t concentrating even the slightest bit on the words on the page.
Why couldn’t he see how much damage he’d done?
Why did he think I’d even entertain this utterly farcical idea of his?
“Don’t go ahead with the divorce,” he pleaded, still speaking in that low, deliberate voice. “We can work things out. Remember our vows? In good times and in bad? You’re throwing away years of our happiness without even giving me the chance to fix things.”
That was rich coming from him. I was throwing away our vows? What about when he’d dicked down his junior agent? Not just once—for half of our marriage. No, it wasn’t me who’d tossed our vows in the trash.
The only way he could fix what he’d destroyed was if he had the key to time travel. And he wouldn’t be fixing things—I would. I’d be running for the hills instead of marrying him.
I exhaled heavily and ground my teeth together, resisting the temptation to reach out and hurl my cell phone out the door.
Barely.
It was a battle of will to stop myself from hanging up on him too. Why, though? Why hadn’t I hung up on him? Why did I keep giving him airtime? Was I still in love with him?
Oh, God.
Is that what this was? Did I still want him? Was my anger really just a mask for love?
He continued, oblivious to my panic. “We have time before the hearing. This is me trying.”
My thoughts opened a pit of fear in my gut, churning and bubbling like lava in a caldera. My lungs squeezed tight. My heart slammed against my chest, each beat echoing through my body so loudly, I was surprised Hannah couldn’t hear it.
I didn’t want to still be in love with him.
He’d hurt me.
He’d destroyed my trust in him.
My voice wobbled as I read another line, this time about moon and star sheep.
Hannah’s eyes drifted closed, her thumb in her mouth.
My angel was asleep. With any luck she’d be out for the night.
But Hannah’s sleep had regressed. We were back to waking up a few times.
I’d kill for a solid night’s sleep, but it would take a few more months to get there again if the doctor’s advice was anything to be believed.
So I’d more than likely be in here in a few hours trying to settle her again.
I finished the story and, as quietly as a mouse, slipped the book onto the bookshelf in her bedroom. Then I picked up my cell phone and tiptoed out, silently pulling the door closed after me.
“What, no comment?” he demanded.
I unmuted my speaker, and my anger and hurt exploded between us, my tone caustic as I reamed him.
“I’m still waiting for you to say something new, something I haven’t already given you an answer to, Simon.
Telling me I’m the one not keeping our vows is so freaking hypocritical when you’re the one who cheated.
You say you’re trying, but I’ve made it clear that there is no saving this marriage.
This whole conversation is a waste of my time. ”
Getting the words out was a relief. The pounding in my chest turned to flutters, butterfly wings taking flight inside me. My hands shook from the giddiness of finally setting some of that anger toward him free.
“Look, I know what I’m proposing isn’t the norm, but you’ve seen it work before. You’ve made it work before. You wanted—”
“I wanted faithfulness,” I hissed.
“I made a mistake, okay?” he shot back, his voice an angry whisper.
His words struck me dumb. It was the first time he’d admitted it, a genuine acknowledgement that he’d done the wrong thing.
I heard the slide of a door and then cars in the distance.
He’d gone outside. He sighed, and when he spoke again, he sounded resigned.
It was as if he was taking his last shot, making one final play for goal before the buzzer sounded.
He was in his defensive zone, trying to pull off the impossible.
I respected the guys on the team for their tenacity and for taking every opportunity to score.
How could I not respect him for doing the same?
“You wanted open communication. I’m trying to do that.
I’ve been sharing everything with you, and you’ve given me nothing back.
Not a single response. Communication is a two-way street, Keeley, and you’re not communicating.
Please try. If not for you or me, for our kids’ sake.
” He paused and sucked in a wobbly breath, emotion thickening his voice.
“Please, I’m begging you. I only want what’s best. I’m just trying to do the right thing by the kids.
They’re innocent in this. I’m trying to give them what we both missed out on growing up. ”