Chapter 10
ten
. . .
T he couch I sit on is puke green and being propped up in one corner by a couple of books. The fabric is rough and not something you can relax on or take a nap. It came with my new apartment. Only there isn’t anything new about this place. It’s old, outdated, and not at all where I want to be. But I did what Aubrey asked and moved out. It’s what she wants, and while it’s not what I want, I’m done fighting with her. I can’t take the hot and cold, the wishy-washy feelings. She wants a divorce, so that’s what I’m going to give her.
Amelie comes out of her new room, hands on her hips, and a look of distaste on her face. “I don’t like it,” she tells me.
“I know.” It doesn’t matter where we live. It’ll never be home. As far as I’m concerned, this place is temporary and the sooner I can get out of my contract, we are out of here, the sooner we can be back in Beaumont. Well, I will be. I can’t stay here. It’s not for me and as much as I want my daughter to return with me, she wants to stay with her mother. I get it, but don’t like it, and want some strict custody arrangements before I leave. Right now, Amelie will stay with me for the next couple of days and then she’ll be with her mom.
Staring at my daughter, I never thought I’d be in the situation I am in now. None of this makes sense. I’m ridiculously angry at Aubrey for leading me on and letting me think we were going to work things out. It’s clear she never had any intentions of doing so and led me to believe we could because she needed someone to help with Amelie. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to forgive her. My heart isn’t broken, it’s numb. I’ve lost all sense of feeling when it comes to my wife . . . well, now soon-to-be-ex. Tomorrow, we’ll meet at some mediator’s office, who doesn’t know us or anything about our marriage, and go over the paperwork my lawyer sent us. There isn’t a doubt in my mind, Aubrey won’t like the agreement, but I have a feeling she’ll sign it because she wants out.
After dinner, Amelie takes a shower and then joins me on the couch. I put a blanket down so our skin isn’t scratched by the fabric. As much as I don’t want to, I’m going to have to find a better place to live or do some remodeling here, the latter depending on if I can work out a way to finish my contract early or not. Who thinks of sitting on a couch when looking at a rental? Definitely not me but then again, until we arrived here, I hadn’t rented anything in decades.
“I don’t understand why you couldn’t stay at the other house too. There was an extra bedroom.”
Amelie shouldn’t know any of this, but she does. She heard the last fight Aubrey and I had, and it all started because I brought up how Amelie wasn’t happy. Truth is, the only one that is happy is Aubrey and that’s questionable half of the time.
“It’s fine,” I tell her. I’m determined to make this work. It’s not like I can walk away from my responsibilities. It’s not in my nature, no matter how badly I want to leave. “We can make some changes, maybe buy a new couch.”
“Okay,” she says as she snuggles into me.
We watch a show until she’s yawning and dozing off. After tucking her in, I boot up my laptop and read over the divorce decree. Ashford v. Ashford feels like a knife in my heart. I had hope. I thought once we were back here, things would be different. Aubrey would see that we belonged in Beaumont and suggest we go back. Instead, she kept renewing her six-week contract, even though she came home in tears most of the time.
Nicholas Ashford retains full primary custody of minor children: Mack and Amelie. Mr. Ashford will provide health insurance for the minor children and pay two-thirds of Amelie’s care while living with Aubrey Ashford. Mr. Ashford will pay for a full-time caretaker while Amelie is in the care of Mrs. Ashford. In lieu of spousal support, Mr. Ashford will pay the fee on the rental home, as long as Amelie is in the care of Mrs. Ashford. Payments will cease when Amelie returns to the United States.
While in the care of Mrs. Ashford, Amelie will attend the International School at the expense of Mr. Ashford.
At the time of this decree the extracurricular activities Amelie participates in are as follows: Dance. Foreign Language Club. Soccer. These expenses will be covered by Mr. Ashford. Any changes to activities will require Mr. Ashford’s approval. If Mrs. Ashford wishes to add an activity, it will be at her expense.
The residence in Beaumont, as well as the private medical practice will remain with Mr. Ashford. Within one year from the date of the dissolution of marriage, Mr. Ashford will refinance the home and bequeath one-third of the profits to Mrs. Ashford. The remainder will go into a trust for the minor children.
After a while, the words blur. I can’t believe this is what my marriage comes down to—words on a piece of paper—dictating what I’m going to pay so Amelie isn’t struggling. It’s a crap shoot that Aubrey’s going to sign this. Something tells me she wants money. Aubrey wants a divorce, not a trial. A judge here can only issue spousal maintenance. My lawyer is banking on Aubrey signing and walking away.
I’m not sure if I expect her to fight me for custody. I don’t want Amelie staying with Aubrey for the foreseeable future, but I will listen to what my daughter wants. After all, her happiness is what’s important here. I am willing to concede and let Amelie stay as long as she wants. Last week, she didn’t want to stay. This week, she does. I expect she’ll change her mind again, and again.
The entire thing makes me sick. I hate that my family is torn apart, that I failed at keeping it together. It’s the worst feeling in the world, hearing your wife tell you she wants a divorce. What’s worse is the way she looked at me when she said it. Any love I thought we shared was gone. The thing is, I don’t know where it went because weeks ago, she told me she wanted things to work between us.
What changed?
I close my laptop, turn off the television and make my way into the small bedroom that’ll be mine until I either find another place or my contract ends. Part of me is willing to suck it up. I’m only here to sleep and I don’t need much so I’ll put up with the twin bed that’s situated in the far corner. Amelie, however, deserves a better place to live in. Then again, Aubrey wanted her to live in a village. The divorce decree will prevent that.
Outside, lights shine into my window from people coming and going. I stare at the ceiling. There are patches of plaster. Holes filled in, but not sanded or painted. Just globs of white cement all over the ceiling, waiting to fall down on an unsuspecting sleeping man. Sort of like my life.
After work, I head to the mediator’s office. I’m not sure how my attorney found this place, but they are willing to be the go between with my lawyer. With my hand poised on the door handle, I glance across the street and come to a sudden stop. My wife is there, in the arms of another man. He hooks some of her hair behind her ear and stares down at her tenderly. When he leans down and kisses her, every part of me is torn. Do I say something or ignore it?
I say nothing as I walk into the office. She doesn’t want me, and I shouldn’t care. Except I do because I want to know how long she has been with this man. From what I saw, they looked comfortable with each other, and people who just started dating don’t normally express themselves with a lip lock on the street. They don’t engage in PDA or give loving looks to each other. Not to mention, it’s been a week since we called it quits for good. Did she really move on this fast? I’m trying not to let what I saw sting, but it does. I am only human after all.
Aubrey walks in, straightening her hair as she comes toward me. Her lips are red, and I know it’s from being kissed. I’ve seen them enough to know. She sits next to me and has the nerve to smile. I smirk and think about when it’ll be the perfect time to bring up what I saw.
The mediator calls us into the small, cramped office. It’s too close for comfort and I want the door to stay open for air flow and a quick escape when Aubrey starts with her crocodile tears.
“I’m assuming you’ve looked over the decree?” the mediator asks.
I nod and Aubrey sighs.
“Yes, and it’s not okay,” she says. “I need spousal maintenance. I haven’t worked much during the marriage and don’t have any assets.”
The mediator nods.
“You have a job that pays you two thousand a month, no bills, and I’m paying your rent.”
“So?”
“Okay, the alternative is I don’t pay your rent and you can have it in spousal maintenance.”
“You’re only willing to pay as long as Amelie is living here.”
I shrug. “And I’m going to refinance the house. You get one-third of the profits.” A house she paid absolutely nothing for because when she was working, she sent her money to her parents. I never told her otherwise because I knew it was important to her.
“Maybe there’s another solution?” the mediator asked.
“There has to be,” Aubrey says. “I have to have income to live.”
“You keep one hundred percent of your earnings, Aubrey. I’m paying for everything for the kids. Healthcare, education, extracurricular activities, and a caregiver, which wouldn’t be needed if we were living back in the states.”
She looks at the mediator as if they should say something. The settlement is more than generous considering the circumstances.
“You just want to be back there because of Josie,” she mumbles. I don’t know if she didn’t expect me to hear her or what, but I did and use it as an opening.
“Who is the man I saw you kissing?”
Aubrey looks at me with fake confusion on her face.
“Don’t, Aubrey. I saw you across the street. It wasn’t some friendly peck on the cheek. Who is he and how long have you been seeing him?”
She says nothing. Her silence hits me straight in the chest. It’s not that she thinks I’ve been cheating, it’s her, I’m sure of it. I’m sure of it.
“How long, Aubrey?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
I scoff and wish we were anywhere else having this discussion. “It matters. Did you break our family apart and move across the world for some guy you met on the internet? Or do you know him from when you lived here?”
She stares at the mediator, who is looking down at the papers on the table.
“Take the offer, Aubrey, or I’ll push this further.”
“And when you take Amelie from me, then what?”
I shrug. “That won’t be my problem. I’m willing to pay for your rent while she is with you. When she tells me she’s ready to go home, which I know she is now, we’re gone.”
“You promised me Mack would be here.”
Another shrug. “He’s old enough to make his own decisions about where he wants to live. Right now, he’s thriving in Beaumont. I’m not going to allow you to interrupt his life anymore.”
It takes a while, but Aubrey nods. The mediator says they’ll have the final paperwork ready for us to sign in a couple of days. I’m out of my seat and the office as fast as I can move. There isn’t a need or desire to stay in Aubrey’s presence anymore.
“Nick!” Aubrey screams my name as I head down the street. I stop and turn.
“What?”
“You really think it’s okay to screw me over like this?”
“I did no such thing, Aubrey. The deal is fair.”
“When you take Amelie, I won’t have the money to pay rent.”
“Then move,” I tell her. “Find a smaller place or ask your friend . I’m sure he’ll help you. Better yet, ask your parents for all the money you sent them during our marriage. I can add that you worked and never added to the household income. You don’t think I have those records?”
“Why are you being such an ass?”
“Because . . .” I point my finger in her direction and then shake my head. “You lied, Aubrey. I don’t know when you started, but I’m sure if I go back and start looking at things, I’ll be able to figure it out. You lied to me. To us. To our children. It’s all starting to make sense now, the sudden urge to move. You put yourself before the kids and that’ll never be okay with me.”
“You drove me into the arms of another man.”
I hang my head and groan. “You’re right,” I say. “Treating you like you were the best damn thing to ever happen to me, worshiping you, putting you first . . . yep, I’m the bad guy here.” I start to turn away but have more to say. Facing her, I say, “I never cheated on you. I never even looked at another woman. From the moment I met you, you were it for me. My life. You did this, Aubrey. You chose this for yourself.”
She stares, saying nothing.
“I don’t know who he is but keep him away from my daughter.”
“You can’t tell me what to do.”
“I just did. And don’t even think about asking her to lie to me, Aubrey.”
With those parting words, I walk away.