Chapter 14 #3
She was silent for a moment. More evidence that her father was destroying everything they'd built together, and more proof that the man she'd looked up to for twenty one years was capable of betraying people who'd trusted him completely.
"How bad was it?" she asked finally.
"They looked happy," I said, because there was no point in lying about what I'd witnessed. "Really happy. Like people in love who don't have to hide it anymore."
"I hate him," Kimberly said, fierce with protective anger that made my stomach ache. "I hate him for doing this to you, to us, to our family. I'm not speaking to him again. I can't pretend everything's normal when he's destroying your life."
"Don't do that," I said, though I wasn't sure why I was defending Brett's relationship with his daughter when he'd clearly chosen his own happiness over his family's stability. "He's still your father, whatever else is happening between us."
"He's not acting like a father. He's acting like a selfish asshole who doesn't care about anyone except himself and his girlfriend."
I couldn't argue with that assessment, because it was probably accurate. But Kimberly needed to maintain some relationship with Brett, if only to protect her own emotional well-being during what was going to be a lengthy and complicated divorce process.
"Listen," I said, making a decision I probably should have made weeks ago. "There's something else you should know. I met with a divorce attorney last week. Lindsay Garland. And today I hired a private investigator to document your father's weekend trip to Seattle."
The silence that followed felt different than before. Not shocked, exactly, but relieved. Like she'd been waiting for me to stop accepting betrayal and start fighting back.
"Good," she said fiercely. "It's about time. I was starting to worry you were going to just accept this and try to work through it somehow."
"No. I'm done accepting things that aren't acceptable." I took a sip of wine. "I'm filing for divorce as soon as we have enough evidence to protect my financial interests. Your father wants to build a life with someone else, he can do it without destroying mine in the process."
We talked for another twenty minutes about considerations that came with dissolving a family.
Where she'd spend holidays when we were no longer a unit, whether Devin would be able to handle the stress of divorce proceedings during his senior year of high school, how to maintain some semblance of stability while everything fell apart around us.
"I'm proud of you," Kimberly said before we hung up, her tone carrying conviction that made me believe her completely. "You deserve so much better than someone who makes you feel invisible, mom. You deserve to be chosen first, not settled for when more exciting options aren't available."
After she hung up, I remained in the family room with my wine and my phone full of evidence that my marriage had been over longer than I'd been willing to admit.
I went downstairs to Brett's wine cellar and selected a bottle of the Bordeaux he'd been saving for special occasions that never seemed to arrive. If the end of our marriage didn't qualify as a special occasion, nothing would. I opened it with slightly vindictive pleasure and poured myself a glass.
Men were wicked. Not all of them, probably, but definitely the one I'd married.
Twenty three years of supporting his career and raising his children and organizing his life, and he was prepared to throw it all away for someone young enough to be his daughter's older sister.
Someone who made him feel like the most fascinating man in the world because she hadn't seen him clip his toenails or heard him complain about traffic or watched him get food poisoning from questionable sushi.
Brett was a piece of shit. A successful, charming, well-educated piece of shit who'd convinced me to build my entire identity around being his wife while he planned his exit strategy with someone who could offer him intellectual stimulation and physical excitement I apparently couldn't provide anymore.
But I was done being his victim, and accepting scraps of attention, and making excuses for behavior that was inexcusable. I was competing for my own husband's affection with someone who didn't even know she was in a competition.
After today, I was going to choose myself and my children.
I was going to build a life that didn't depend on Brett's choices or Alison Crawford's existence or whether anyone else found me attractive enough to want.
I was going to remember who I'd been before I became so focused on being the ideal wife that I forgot I was a person with my own dreams worth pursuing.
Everything happened for a reason, apparently. Even betrayal and lies and the complete destruction of everything I'd thought was permanent. Maybe this ending was actually a beginning, an opportunity to discover what happiness looked like when it belonged entirely to me.
The wine was excellent. Brett had good taste in everything except wives, apparently.