Chapter 51
Fifty-One
Zach
What the fuck do you wear to your divorce hearing?
Mom pointedly suggested a dark suit and a tie. She’d also almost had an aneurysm when Xander had shown up in his Hotshot Nomex gear to Dad’s funeral. I’d worn my dress blues.
A suit feels too formal… but I’m not taking Joel’s suggestion. I’m not looking to go to jail for indecent exposure.
So, I’d asked the only guy I’m comfortable with talking to about this shit. Someone that’s been through the divorce process, himself.
“We’re not a metropolitan courthouse, this is small town court,” Chief had muttered under his breath where we’d sat next to each other last night for a beer together.
“You don’t need a suit or your dress blues for this; you’ll look like you’re trying too hard to impress the judge.
You want to look collected, calm, and professional.
Keep it simple. Nice slacks. Definitely no tie.
Pressed, button-down shirt under a V-neck sweater or something of the like.
Clean shoes.” He’d shrugged his massive shoulders, taking a drink of his beer. “Don’t overthink it. You’ll be fine.”
Adjusting the charcoal gray quarter zip sweater over the cornflower blue button down I just pulled on, I’m already roasting and tug at the collar of both shirts, then smooth them with my hands. Fuck, even my hands are clammy.
Running my palms over my thighs, I remember I was going to locate a lint roller.
Finding one tucked into the sock drawer, I run it over my slacks methodically, going over everything in my mind.
Anxiety is a beast that I’ve fortunately never struggled with, but fuck, every breath feels like I’m fighting for my life right now.
I check the watch on my wrist—a gift from my dad when Abigail was born—and wonder if it’s too early to head to the courthouse. Being punctual is a good quality, right?
The girls are at school, and I’d had to convince Mom not to go with me to court. Instead, she’s picking the girls up after school and taking them for an ice cream.
I don’t want anyone else there. Not today.
We hadn’t had a real wedding… why bother with an audience for the demise of the marriage?
There’s a knock on the door, so I head out of the bedroom and to the front door, pulling it open.
“Heya, are you Zach?” the woman on the front porch asks.
Petite with shoulder length light brown hair, she has hazel eyes and when she turns her head slightly, a strand of dark purple ribbon is tied in a bow on the back of her head.
She has a cardboard box in her arms as big as she is, the tops of four bouquets sticking out the top.
I can barely see her face over the top of them.
She laughs then. “Of course you are. Hello, Hot Neighbor.”
“Uhh—”
“I’m with Three Blossoms floral shop downtown. I have a delivery for you.”
What the actual fuck…
She hands me the entire box. “Are you sure all of these go here?” I ask hesitantly.
The girl just nods, crossing her arms over her chest against the slight chill in the air.
“Oh yeah. Definitely in the right place.” She hitches her thumb over her shoulder toward Louise’s house, then sticks her hand out to me before realizing I have the box of florals in both hands.
She laughs again, then shrugs before crossing her arms again. “Sorry. I’m with her. Willow Compton.”
“Ahhh,” I say, nodding. “You’re the best friend.”
“I am the best friend,” she says simply. This little thing is staring me down. Good for her. And good for Lou, to have friends like this. “You’re the boyfriend.”
I suck on my front teeth, trying not to laugh. “I am the boyfriend.”
She looks me up and down once, then nods, like I’ve passed some kind of inspection that I wasn’t aware of. “Well, she’s gonna be hot pissed when she realizes that I already delivered these, she wanted to bring them to you, but, alas, I’m a nosy bitch, so—”
I do laugh out loud this time, and honestly, I’m grateful for the distraction. I hoist the box a little higher in my arms. “I’ll make sure she gets the credit. It was nice to meet you, Willow.”
“Likewise,” she says, nodding again. And then she turns, heading across the porch and down the steps to a white transit van with the Three Blossoms logo on the side. “Good luck, today.”
I nod, just once. Of course Lou would have told her best friend. It’s a big day.
Lou’s best friend pulls out of the driveway and I close the door behind me as I make my way to the kitchen.
Setting the box on the counter, I pull the smaller three bouquets out, all arranged in individual glass vases.
The final, largest one, is also in a vase.
Abigail, Bailey, and Chloe’s names are written on the cards in the three smaller ones.
Mine is written on the card stuck in the largest one, with a handwritten ‘Read me later’ on the front.
From Louise to all four of us on this bittersweet day.
She’d stayed at home last night, insisting that I needed the night to myself, to grieve, to prepare, and that she would be here waiting for me when I was ready. Even if that meant tonight, too.
This girl. I had no idea I needed her so damn much.
Plucking the note out of the flowers, I tuck it into my pocket. Even if I can’t read it now, I need to have a small piece of her with me today.
Pulling my phone out of my other pocket, I snap a picture of the four bouquets and send it Lou.
Not sure what we did to deserve you, but I plan on making good on the next forty to fifty years, Princess. Missing you. Can’t wait to kiss you.
Climbing into the truck, I drive into town and park on the street outside of the county courthouse. I don’t see a gold minivan anywhere, but I’m not surprised. I’m still early, and Brittanee is never on time.
I check in through security and find my way upstairs to the courtroom. My lawyer, Stan, finds me just a few minutes later when he walks up. He shakes my hand, and we spend the next several minutes going over what our strategy is. My palms are clammy, again.
Stan reminds me at five minutes to that I need to make sure my phone is silenced before we get into the courtroom, so I slip my phone out and turn off the ringer.
Princess
Missing you, more.
I’ll let you know about tonight.
Princess
Take your time. If you need tonight to yourself, I understand.
Thank you, Louise. I’ll text when I’m out.
Pushing to my feet, I slide my phone into my pocket and follow Stan into the courtroom.