Chapter 10
Thalia
1 year later
MY MOTHER DIED . Death had been following her for a while and it finally caught up to her. She had done her best to cling onto life, but the cancer came back even after she had been in remission for a few months. The second time the cancer came, it was fast, corrosive and efficient. I spent most of her last days with her. I even moved her into Carey's apartment. The apartment owner be damned, but even he had been respectful enough to not be a dick about it.
And with her around, we had resumed the same charade we put on for the Bardwells. I was grateful to him for that, at least. My mother went away thinking her daughter was happily married to her childhood sweetheart. When she died, I am sure she died with a smile on her face.
We buried her in a church cemetery close to Carey's apartment. Carey had genuinely surprised me. He made all the funeral arrangements and was astute enough to keep his distance while also being helpful. The funeral was small. Only a few people were in attendance, including Carey's brother Nolan Hawthorne Jr. The Senior couldn't be bothered to come even though it was he who had made my union to his son possible. If it wasn't clear that he was only using my mother's illness against me, his absence at her funeral made it transparent. Regardless, I was glad he was not there.
It took me several weeks to think straight. To get ahead of the grief that would follow me forever. To see the silver lining in her death. Nolan Hawthorne Senior had nothing to use against me. I could finally be free of the cold marriage I was in. I no longer had to pretend to be in love with a man who hated me. That is why a month after I buried my mother, I contacted him and arranged for an appointment at his office.
The Hawthorne building was intimidating. A towering gray skyscraper that was a symbolism of the dominance of the company. The elevator ride to his office felt never-ending. Nolan Hawthorne senior's office was at the top of the building. As the doors opened, his assistant, who seemed to have been waiting for me, greeted and escorted me to a mahogany and marble room with a single large desk at the center, a sitting area on one end, and floor-to-ceiling windows on the other.
"Mr. Hawthorne will be with you shortly," she said, gesturing to a chair next to the desk. I sank into it and waited for him while I rehearsed my speech. I didn't have to wait long. The old burly man with dyed hair, a tan, and a dominating presence came into the office from a side door I hadn't noticed. He beamed when he saw me. He seemed to be in a cheerful mood, I thought. Let's hope he's receptive.
"This meeting can only mean one thing I gather." He shuffled over to the desk and sank into the large leather chair opposite mine. "It has been a year, hasn't it? You're a little late, but I can forgive that." He opened his palm. "You must show me the results first."
"Re-results?"
Nolan Hawthorne Sr threw his hands up in the air. "The pregnancy test! Please tell me you went to a doctor to verify and didn't just pee on a stick."
I shook my head. "Mr. Hawthorne, I am not pregnant."
He frowned, and I watched as his bright face darken immediately. "Then why are you wasting my time?" he snarled.
"I—I…" My confidence was decimated by that single sentence. First, there was no way I was pregnant. Carey and I hadn't been in the same bed since the honeymoon. Even when my mother was at his apartment, Carey had bought a foldable bed, and he slept there while I slept on his bed. Second, I wasn't here for some reward for getting knocked up by his son. "I have another matter to discuss," I muttered.
Nolan leaned forward. "Huh!"
I straightened my back and raised my head. I will not be intimidated by him. "I want a divorce."
He leaned back and threw his head back, laughing. "The balls on you. What's the matter? He's not giving you a big enough allowance? If you want more money, you know what you have to do." He pointed at my belly.
"No, the allowance is sufficient." It was more than sufficient. Every month Carey deposited ten times the amount of money I was earning from my job waitressing at a bar. It was so much money that it rendered work unnecessary. Although it allowed me to care for my mother, I felt restless and bored after her death.
"It's not about the money."
"Then what is the problem?" he boomed.
I twisted my hands in my lap. "Nothing exactly, but I don't think your son and I are compatible. There are other women, I feel would do a better job."
He snorted. "You women are fickle. It's only been a year and you're already demanding to leave. You know your mother is still depended on me. I can make my generosity disappear like that." He snapped his fingers.
"My mother died."
That seemed to stump him. He was silent for a moment. He didn't offer any condolences, nor was he ashamed that he wasn't aware that she had died. But he recovered quickly. "Is that why you think you can finally do whatever you want?"
"We do not get along! He found out about our deal and hates me now. Don't you get it? He doesn't want to sleep with me anymore. So your grandkids that you want so much, they will never happen."
Nolan scoffed. "A woman as beautiful as you can seduce a virile man like my son. It shouldn't be hard."
He had a thick skull. "What I mean is, sir, I am leaving him. I only came here to tell you out of curtesy.
He narrowed his eyes. "My god, you are serious." He opened his drawer and took out a pen and a checkbook, flipped it open and said, "How much?"
"Mr. Hawthorne," I fidgeted in my chair. "I don't want a check. I want a divorce."
He threw the pen onto the desk, then he folded his arms. "If you think you'll get more money leaving my son now than staying with him, then you didn't read the fine print of that prenup you so eagerly signed."
I felt like I was talking to a brick wall. What was it like? To only think in terms of money. How much you can give and how much you can take. "I will leave with nothing. I don't care."
He scoffed, his eyes assessing me like I was an alien specimen. His gaze was meant to intimidate. Meant to make me cower, but I stared right back it him. It was interesting to see the same features Carey had on a much older man. He was a handsome man once upon a time, but harsh lines had replaced that beauty. There was also a frailty that was inevitable for a man his age. But where it mattered, he was nothing like his son. Carey was not this driven by money.
He smiled. It wasn't warm, but cold and creepy. "You're not in your right mind. Your mother just died and you aren't thinking clearly."
His condescending tone was irritating. "I assure you, this is the clearest my thoughts have ever been."
"You should go back to your husband's apartment and think on what life you'd be leaving if—"
"Mr. Hawthorne—"
He raised his hand cutting me off. "Think what a comfortable life you'd be leaving in exchange for a harsher life where you have no money, no ability to get a job, because you've been blacklisted, no ability to take a loan because again, you've been blacklisted and oh, a large bill for your mother's medical expenses put on you that you'd have to payback. "
My eyes widened. "You can't force people not to hire me."
"I don't have to, but I have friends in the justice department that can easily give you a criminal record if I ask nicely."
"You're insane. Fucking evil!"
"I am the devil himself, you're right, but if you play your cards right, I'll be your guardian angel." He snarled, "Now get out of my office."