Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Paisley
T hankfully the headache from hell had only lasted a day. But now I had a brand-new headache.
One that might have something to do with my mother, but I was better off when I pushed that to the side and focused on my job, and not the fact my own mother hated me.
There were enough people out there with mother issues, I didn’t need to publicize mine.
As I signed the paper in front of me, I let out a breath at the familiar feeling. Because once again I was signing papers, but at least this didn’t have anything to do with my divorce.
At least I didn’t think so.
Two of my associates sat in front of me, each of them having worked hard through the ranks in order to be where they were. They were brilliant, hardworking, and were the best at what they did. I hired the best, and I also hired those who could get there but needed a little help. Because not everybody had the ability to pay for a four-year school or take time off when needed for certain jobs. I had single mothers, adults who were raising their younger siblings, I had widows who were getting full-time jobs for the first time in their lives because they had been stay-at-home moms. I had people who were changing careers and trying to find their path. I also had others who couldn’t afford retirement yet thanks to corporate greed, or the way that the world was working. I took everyone in that I could and found them a place to help us all survive in this world and thrive.
Only I didn’t feel like I was thriving right now.
No, I felt like the two people in front of me weren’t staring at my signatures, but rather the bruise I had tried to cover up.
They couldn’t see the bruise of course. It was only a slight one, that was mostly a red mark. I had been clever with concealer and bronzer, and they wouldn’t be able to tell that my mother had hit me. After all, I should have been expecting that slap from her.
They may not have been able to see the bruise, but I could feel it. My mother rarely hit me. She hadn’t as a child, just a quick few slaps here and there when she wasn’t getting her way.
And while I realized as an adult that was never okay, I knew others had it worse. After all, I had been able to get out.
I just hadn’t realized my mother had found a way to get my house key. Something I would be working to change soon. New locks. New keys. New security.
Because damn that woman and everything she represented.
My mother had paced in front of me while I’d done my best to stay steady. “How could you? You were supposed to stay married to him. We were going to be someone. We had power. And you threw it all away because what, he didn’t like your cold vagina and heart?”
I had scoffed at her, walking away. Of course, my mother would go straight to sex and feelings as if she had a single drop of care for another person who could penetrate her reptilian skin. All she had wanted was for me to be the perfect little pawn in her grand schemes. It was odd though because I had never realized my mother had such grand schemes. Before, it had been beauty pageants when I had been little, making sure I was the prom queen, and any little part of our small town into the big city where I could shine under her glow. Or maybe it was the reverse? I wasn’t quite sure where that metaphor had taken me, other than the fact I couldn’t escape this woman.
I had tried to escape to Colorado. But apparently, I hadn’t gone far east enough of Oregon. My business was settled here, and we were thriving in this atmosphere. Even if I had to deal with the Bartons, even if I had to deal with my mother, we were kicking ass and taking names. Even if today’s signature didn’t quite feel like it.
I wasn’t going to change my life and uproot everything to run away from my mother. I’d done it once before out of sheer desperation and grief, and in the end, I’d only been able to because of the circumstances shrouding me. Moving on and starting over had just been an advantageous consequence of the interactions set forth by those around me and those I’d willingly made. Although she had ended up following me anyway.
No, I had run away from my problems and memories, and they had still come to bite me in the ass.
This time the wrong decisions suffocating me didn’t push me onto a dance floor…no, I wasn’t going to go down that memory lane—not with how I’d ended up that night.
“Is everything okay, Paisley?” the woman in front of me asked, and I nodded tightly, not letting her see beneath my shell. There were only two people who worked in this building that truly saw who I was, and sometimes I was afraid even they didn’t see that.
Devney and Addison were off today, as our company only worked four days a week—at least most of us did. I tended to work seven days a week, but I didn’t examine that too closely. However, with those two out of the office, the people who could truly see what I was feeling and knew too much weren’t here. So I had a little bit of time to keep hiding the bruises that had nothing to do with the one on my face.
“I’m sorry, my mind’s going a mile a minute working on other things. But this paperwork looks fine.”
“That’s true, but it doesn’t have to be final if you don’t want it to be,” Jessa said softly, and I gave her a strange look. “You were the one who helped push for this sale. After all, we didn’t build the company, it was an acquisition we helped strengthen, and now the former owners want to move to a different company, settled in Europe and not here.”
“And you don’t have to do that,” Dawn whispered.
I stared at the two of them, frowning. “What’s going on? This is a matchmaking company, one that is doing well, unsettled, but we don’t need to have any stake in it. We did what we wanted to accomplish. We helped build it up. Now we’re going to sell it. Just like the former owners who will still have a stake in the business want. Talk to me.”
Dawn swallowed hard. “We were just thinking. You know. About the optics.”
I raised a single brow. “And by optics, what do you mean?” I ask, though I had a feeling I knew exactly where they were going with this.
Jessa cleared her throat. “Well, it might be prudent to put off selling a matchmaking firm until news of your divorce is no longer on the press’s mind.”
I tilted my head as I stared at them, trying to hold back any sign of emotion.
Of course now that the divorce was public, people would be talking about it. Since I first walked into the building, people had either given me pitying looks, or darted their gazes away.
I shouldn’t have been surprised people didn’t know how to act around me now. No one truly understood how to as it was. I’d been their boss, their savior, their ice queen, and now the topic of their gossip.
And while I was used to people not understanding the labels they etched into my skin whether well-intentioned or not, I wasn’t in the mood to deal with the outcome of the divorce today.
I didn’t want their pity, their knowing looks. I didn’t want the questions in their gazes.
Was I good enough for the Bartons? Why had we divorced so quietly? And quickly? Was I at fault? Of course I was. It couldn’t be dear Jacob because he was perfect. Perfect and pristine just like his golden boy image would always be.
And when he got married to dear Lydia, everybody would continue to see him in his golden image with sparkles and unicorns coming out of his ass. They wouldn’t see him for who he truly was.
They would see me for who they thought I was.
The cold bitch who couldn’t keep him.
Now I apparently needed to get rid of this matchmaking service.
Not that there was anything wrong with that business. However, two days after my divorce wasn’t the time to speak of it.
“I’m not quite sure why my relationships have anything to do with the matchmaking one. It wasn’t as if I met my ex-husband through this service. They’re not going to connect the two. I don’t know what you are worried about.”
Though I did. We all did.
Dawn shook her head. “Maybe we should wait on it. I’m sure the owner will understand.”
“I think we should continue on as we have. Leaning into what the media wants to flame isn’t going to help. After all, if we move on as we always have, they will ignore me. I’m not worth talking about. Our business is. So let’s keep on track, shall we?”
They both nodded, and though I knew I sounded harsh, I didn’t want to talk about this.
We had things to do. And dealing with what the media thought was appropriate wasn’t it.
I sighed, wondering exactly how my life had gotten to this point. Although I guess it was my own fault. I had made the poor decision to marry the man. And while selling a matchmaking company while a divorce was being settled probably wasn’t the smartest idea, there wasn’t anything I could do in that moment. We just had to buck up and move on.
At least that’s what I kept telling myself about it.
At least nobody told me to try out the matchmaking company. Of course, if I continued down this path, they would probably mention it. So I pushed for the next agenda item and kept moving on.
My phone buzzed more than once, and while some messages were from my mother, others were from my friends.
The news had broken, and I hadn’t been the one to tell them.
That was possibly childish of me, or just cowardly. But I wasn’t quite sure what else I was supposed to say.
I didn’t want to tell them I was a failure.
By the time I found myself alone, knowing that I needed to meet the lawyers to finish signing the paperwork for the matchmaking company, my phone was ringing off the hook. I would have to call Devney and Addison back, but they weren’t the only two getting through. My two administrative assistants were fielding as many calls as they could, but they couldn’t catch them all.
It seemed the media had truly caught wind of the divorce, and the firestorm was just settling in.
I ignored my calls and went to my emails, knowing that I couldn’t ignore those.
Everybody wanted a statement on the divorce, wanted to know the whys of it, wanted details. It was none of their damn business. However, I knew I wouldn’t be able to just leave it to Jacob.
I quickly called out for my publicist. “Clark—”
He didn’t even need me to finish my sentence. “I’m on it. We have the three statements that we prepared just in case. Do we want to go full tilt, vague, or down the middle.”
I already saw the headlines, as it seemed Jacob’s team was taking a firm stance. “We’ll go down the middle for now. No mention of cheating, or even the phrase of irreparable differences. We just move on. Like we need to.”
“You’ve got it.” He paused for a minute, and I let out a breath.
“What is it, Clark?”
“Are you okay? I know you don’t usually let me ask. But you don’t have to do this alone, you know. Jacob’s an asshole. We need to make sure that the world knows.”
“It’s not my place to tell the world he’s an asshole. They’ll see it soon enough.”
He snorted. “He’s a politician, honey. People are going to vote for him because he’s an asshole.”
That made my lips twitch. “So me telling the world that he cheated on me isn’t going to help. They’re going to be able to figure out the timeline soon, connect the dots. I won’t be the scorned woman in their eyes. There’s no need for me to ice down the narrative where I sound like a jealous bitch.”
“That is true. But you know that I’m in your corner, right? You’ve got people.”
His statement made me smile. “I do. Thank you.”
He cleared his throat again.
I held back a sigh. Clark was a fierce publicist who cared for his clients, but I didn’t want him to look too closely. “What is it?”
“Talk to your friends. Addison already called me. I’m pretty sure she’s probably going to storm your office soon.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose, that familiar guilt clawing its way through my gut. “Thank you for letting me know.”
“You’re welcome. Now, we’ll handle this part, you handle everything else.”
“It’s what I do,” I say with a sigh.
I looked at the clock then and realized it was after six. My team was already heading out, as I didn’t force people to work for too many hours a day. And I knew if I left now, some might think I was leaving to lick my wounds, but I didn’t care in that moment. I was tired, and I had more work to do at home. Plus, I had people I needed to reach out to. They were worrying about me, and I had to fix this.
Somehow.
I picked up my phone and looked at the group chat.
A dozen messages, and I knew I needed to answer them. To face the consequences of my own decisions.
Me: I’m headed home. If you’re able, I would love to see you there, with wine, cheese, and I’ll tell you everything.
Addison texted back first. I hadn’t known her as long as Devney, but she was already one of my favorite people in the world.
Addison: Damn straight. We were already planning on attacking you at home.
Devney: She means cornering you and asking questions, not actually attacking.
Addison: Well, I said what I said.
My lips twitched.
Me: See you in an hour?
Addison: You’ve got it.
Devney: I have sparkling wine.
Me: Sounds good.
I sighed, continued to pack up, and then headed out. I nodded at a few people who were still at their desks, since I wasn’t the last one out like usual, but then again, since marrying Jacob, I hadn’t always been here for late nights. We had had dinner parties and media relations to deal with. Something I hadn’t quite realized how much of myself I had given up until I stepped back to look objectively. And it had never been enough for him.
I wanted to shake my head and push him out of my thoughts, but we were going to talk about him tonight, so I wouldn’t be able to do it fully yet.
But then I would ignore him, and everything that had come with him.
I would just be me.
Whoever that me was.
I made my way to my house, having put on an audiobook rather than listening to the news. Because at the first mention of Jacob’s name, I knew that this wasn’t going to let up anytime soon.
Our local world, and in some aspects the national one, wanted to know why Jacob and I had gotten a divorce. And our statements, not so joint at all, weren’t going to clear the air. Because even if Jacob was going to throw me under the bus and it all be a lie, the affair would come out. Especially when his marriage to Lydia happened so quickly. But that wouldn’t be on me.
And if I kept telling myself that, I would soon believe it.
I pulled into my garage, grateful I didn’t sense my mother about. I had already changed the alarm key codes, and I would be changing the locks soon. I hated the fact that she had figured out how to worm her way in. Just like she always did.
I took off my shoes and stretched my ankles a bit after a long day in high heels. I went through my normal routine.
At least the normal routine that had happened since the divorce. I was trying to find it again since moving out of the mansion with Jacob, and into the home that I hadn’t ever sold. I hadn’t even realized that I had had a backup plan, a safety net, until I had needed it.
I slid into comfy lounge pants, a tank top, and a soft zip-up hoodie, put my hair in a clip, and went to set out a few snacks for the girls. I had music playing this time, still not watching the news, as I had already read the headline news, as well as multiple news sources that had nothing to do with my life with Jacob.
There was at least that.
Then I went to start cleaning a bit, knowing that the girls would be here any minute.
However, when I went to the guest bedroom in search of a storage box, I saw one that made my heart ache.
Without thinking, and yet knowing it was a mistake, I went to my tiptoes and pulled down the memory box I had forgotten I had stashed here.
I sat cross-legged on the floor, the hat box on my lap, as I gently took off the circular lid.
It was odd to think I wasn’t mourning a recent divorce. Oh, I might be mourning the person that I had been when I thought I’d been in love, but that had just been a mirage.
No, apparently now it was all I could do but mourn a relationship long gone.
I let out a shaky breath, annoyed at myself for even falling down this rabbit hole.
Inside were countless photographs, notes, movie tickets, and even a concert stub or two.
Mementos of a time long gone, of a lifetime that didn’t even seem my own.
There was the time we had gone to a city park and shared a Frito pie, all the while laughing with the children as they giggled, playing within the park itself. I still had the receipt for that Frito pie, with a little smudge of chili at the edge.
The remnants had long since dried, and was probably disgusting, but I kept it. As well as the movie ticket stub from our first date.
There was the receipt for my wedding dress, a simple plain white dress I had found at a discount store. So unlike the extravagant lace and corset bodice I had been forced to wear for Jacob’s mother as well as my own.
A single dried flower from my bouquet.
And scattered amongst the relics of a past better left forgotten, were photos.
Polaroids, printed out photos, and those little ones that you get from carnivals and arcades where they print out in a long strip.
We had been so young—August and me.
So young, and perhaps carefree, though not in reality.
We’d both been running from pasts when we hadn’t even realized it. But I saw the love there. The aching love in both of our eyes.
When had that gone away?
When had August stopped loving me?
I could see now that Jacob had never loved me. As I looked back, I realized that my business and my connections to this new age of power in his eyes were why he had married me. I kept having to ask myself why I had married him.
But I never had to ask myself why I had married August. Yes, maybe I was clinging to wanting to have something steady in a world that didn’t feel steady at all. But I had married August because I loved him.
And I could see the love in his eyes.
When had it turned to heartbreak? When had it turned to indifference.
When the doorbell rang, I quickly tossed everything back in the box, having jumped and watched its scattered remains hit the carpeted floor. Swallowing hard, I made sure nothing was out of place as I set the box down, and then wiped my face.
They would think I was crying over the asshole, or maybe the media attention. And that would be fine.
They couldn’t know I was still in love with their brother-in-law.
They couldn’t know how everything hurt.
I opened the door, and my two best friends stood there, not a lick of pity on their faces, just caring because they loved me.
“So, do I get to cut off his dick?” Addison asked without preamble.
“That just sounds like so much work, and very messy,” Devney put in. “I say we take a trash can outside and burn memories of him.”
I just grinned at them, tears forgotten at the sight of the women who lifted me up rather than tore me down like the rest of the world seemed to try to do.
“I’d say we burn things, but there’s not an inch of him in this house. No memories. No photos. Gone like that.” I snap my fingers. “But you know what’s not gone? That bottle of wine. Let’s work on that.”
“I love you,” Addison said, she wrapped her arms around me hugging me tight. And then Devney was there, holding me too, but I didn’t cry. I’d already done that.
And I had done so for a man they didn’t realize I was mourning.
I wondered what kind of friend that made me?
I wondered what kind of woman couldn’t let go.
But in the end, it didn’t matter. Because I had all I needed. Friends, wine, and a box full of memories I wouldn’t open again.