Chapter 23
“How could this be happening?”I nearly shrieked, sitting across from the attorney in his mahogany-rich office.
“It sounds a lot worse than it is, but I had to call you,” said my attorney, keeping cool in his immaculate blue navy suit, white shirt, and red tie: the ultimate power attire. He leaned back in his brown leather chair with one leg perched on his knee like he didn’t have a care in the world and probably didn’t. Michael Stafford’s retainer fees were gargantuan.
“How can this not be serious, Michael? Peter is threatening to take me to family court to alter our custody arrangement.” I flailed my arms. I was like a crazy chicken with its head cut off sitting across from the most nonchalant man. Michael was good, and I had put all my faith into him, mainly because Amelia used him for her divorce, and he was an old friend of hers. He just cost me all my savings, and I finally understood when people said getting a divorce was some of the best money ever spent.
“This new boyfriend of yours must have really rattled him. Have they had any unpleasant exchanges?” Michael leaned forward and planted both caramel leather shoes on the floor.
“The only time was when we were in Florida. Peter wasn’t the nicest on the phone, and Brett intervened. But it wasn’t hostile. It was just an exchange of petty words.” I threw my hands in the air. “This is ridiculous.”
Michael sighed, leaning back in his chair once more. ”Well, he’s a loser. I’m talking about Peter.” Michael spun his gold pinky ring around his strong finger. “I wouldn’t worry. Peter has no leg to stand on. He’s acting like a little shit right now, getting under your skin. Don’t let him win, okay?” He paused for a moment, studying me with his piercing gaze. ”Is this serious with your boyfriend?”
His question caught me off guard, but it was easy to answer. “Yes, of course. I love him.”
A hint of concern flickered across Michael”s face before he nodded. ”Alright then. Look, I don’t think Peter will drag you to court. But to be safe, we can always prepare for the worst.”
“Woah, woah, woah.” I held up a shaky hand as a lump threatened to block my throat. “You’re making this sound pretty serious for something you said just a minute ago wasn’t.”
“I’m just covering our bases.” Michael shrugged. “I always told you Peter was the type who wouldn’t make anything easy for you.” He pursed his lips.
“I don’t want to do this.” I slumped forward, all the air deflating from my tired body. “There has to be another way, Michael.”
“Call the prick. I bet he’ll even pick up.”
“You think?” My brow lifted.
“There’s only one way to find out.” Michael swiveled his chair and fiddled with his Rolex watch, nodding to the phone on his desk. “Oh, and next time you see Amelia, say hi for me, okay? She hasn’t returned my last few calls.”
I did a double-take, wanting to know the gossip, but of course, because of Peter, I had no fucking time.
An hour later, I kind of followed Michael’s advice. However, I decided not to call Peter. I showed up at his garden apartment doorstep, pissed as fucking hot hell. Storming up the masonry path to Peter’s door, I believed I’d remain cordial and classy. Still, that idea disappeared when my fist punched the red-stained door.
The door swung open, revealing Peter, sporting red puffy eyes and exhausted. I had never seen Peter so disheveled and vulnerable. Not even when we broke up. And thinking about how he walked all over me every single second of our days together and apart made me want to hurt him just as he hurt me.
“You look like crap,” I said, inching closer until we were toe to toe.
He wiped his nose with his hand but didn’t utter a syllable.
“What’s wrong?” I asked the obvious dumb question.
Peter forced out a nod, biting his lower trembling limp. “Joel and I broke up.” He slapped his hip before covering his eyes and all the tears falling from them with his hand. Peter took two steps back, opened the entryway, and motioned for me to enter.
I hesitated a moment, unsure of what to do. I initially intended to confront Peter about his threats and reason with him. While the old Julia would have faltered and let the anger seep from her skin to morph into the safety net, the new me wanted him to share my pain.
Taking a deep breath, I barged into his apartment. It had been at least a year since I set foot there. Peter”s sweet aftershave lingered in the air, mingling with the faint smell of coffee brewing in the kitchen. Peter closed the door behind me, his shoulders slumped and defeated. I watched as he made his way to the worn-out couch, sinking into it with a heavy sigh. Without thinking, I followed suit and sat in the chair adjacent, the silence between us growing heavier by the second.
”So, Joel dumped you?” I sat on my sweaty palms, hoping to stop the fidgeting.
He glared at me before shifting his gaze to an invisible point in the distance. ”It was bound to happen sooner or later. Joel always had a wandering eye, and let’s just say it wandered and then some.” A heavy sigh released from his body, and when he shifted to lock eyes with me, all I wanted to do was gouge those pathetic orbs into his head until his skull collapsed. “I know why you’re here.”
“You do.” The words left my mouth as a statement. “Can you tell me why you’re doing this, Peter?” I asked through gritted teeth. “How dare you use our kids against me. To spite me. You’re fucking low. Lower than I ever thought you’d go.”
“You know I’m not doing that,” Peter scowled.
“That’s exactly what the fuck you’re doing. Custody cuts both ways, Peter. And if you really want to go to war with me, you’ll lose.” The fight in me raged as my gut heated up, and every sense in my body jolted into high alert.
Peter”s scowl deepened, his eyes flashing with frustration and resentment. ”I”m not trying to spite you, Julia,” he retorted sharply. ”But things have changed so fast. How can you expect me to just stand back and let some younger guy waltz into our girls” lives? I have concerns, legitimate concerns.”
“Your concerns? Now you’re concerned about your kids? Wow. Just wow.” My fingers dug into my jeans, threatening to break the fabric.
“Would you stop taunting me!” Peter shouted.
“Nope. Not a chance.” I leaned back in the chair, enjoying Peter squirming.
“Did you come here just to upset me more?” Peter banged his chest.
“Why are you doing this to me? Tell me now before I take you to court. Because I’m one phone call away.”
“I can see it now. I’m going to be replaced, and then I’ll have nothing!” Peter screamed, his bloodshot eyes bulging. I had never seen him unravel before. This broken. Seeing Peter in this state reminded me of how I was when Peter told me he was leaving our marriage for Joel. Completely broken and a mess.
“Maybe you wouldn’t feel like you were going to be replaced if you actually showed up when you said you would. Like the first day of school. Or canceling on the girls for dinner because your plans took priority.” Peter looked so small on the couch, sitting alone, unable to make eye contact with me. How the fuck was I ever married to this man?
“Brad is always at the house now.” Peter motions to the empty air ahead.
“Brett. His name is Brett.”
“That’s an even cuter name.” Peter shook it off. “Anyway. Whenever I call and you’re not home, he picks up instead of a babysitter answering because our girls choose not to answer the phone. And what’s crazier? The last time I talked to Zoe, she said she needed to go because Brett was going to show them how to barbecue marinated skirt steak. That should be me, Julia. Showing them those things. And I could if they’d let me. I bought a new grill last year, and it’s sitting out there, barely touched.” Peter pointed to the sliding glass door off the side, showcasing the stainless steel grill, probably half the size compared to the one back home I was permitted to keep from the divorce agreement. “Zoe likes Brett more than me.”
“Think whatever you want. I really don’t care if your insecurities are suddenly driving you crazy. But you need to withdraw this custody threat. Immediately.” I had to be careful. This was a test. I couldn’t humor Peter’s tantrums that would spawn a custody threat every time he felt insecure over the relationship he had with his daughters. “Look, Peter. Zoe is complicated. We know this. Even with me, she acts cold half the time.” My lungs deflated, realizing how Zoe only acted happy with Brett around. Was she only angry at me and Peter? “Sara is our happy-go-lucky child. And Zoe, there are more layers. It’s just who she is.”
Peter shook his head, unconvinced.
“Zoe won’t always be like this. She’ll come around.” I swallowed down the words, not believing them fully. “I’ll talk to her when I get home. I should check in and see where her head is with everything.”
“Careful. She has sharp teeth.” Peter laughed lightly and placed a cautious hand on my knee. “I’m sorry about what I pulled with the custody. I promise I won’t do it again.”
My eyes dropped to Peter’s heavy hand on my leg, making my skin crawl. “Don’t touch me.”
“Oh. Sorry.” He pulled his hand away instantly. “I’ll call my attorney and tell him I changed my mind. And I promise not to do it again.”
“I would never pull anything like that with you. Even when you’re at your worst. Never.” Venom spilled from my mouth, wanting it to burn Peter’s complexion and leave permanent marks.
“I know you wouldn’t. You’ve always been better than me.” His eyes dropped, staying glued to his boat shoes.
“This isn’t a competition, Peter. This is about our kids and what’s best for them. For once, stop making it about yourself. It’s not about you, and it never will be.” I stood, so done and ready to leave. “And if you pull something like this again, I swear I will drag you through fucking hell.”
“You swear a lot.” Peter winced.
“Are you going to take me to court over it?” I gathered myself, already walking to the door.
“Very funny,” Peter called after me.
“Yeah? It won’t be funny next time.” I kept walking to the door with only silence following me. My hand reached for the doorknob when Peter’s voice pierced the quiet.
“Julia?”
I stopped, my breath hitching before turning to meet Peter’s dark, regretful gaze.
“I’m sorry,” he finally said.
The old me would have said something back, but I didn’t owe Peter another word. So, I left.
After dinner, I arrived home, reprieving my babysitter of her duties, and thanked her for staying late. Because I had to duck out of the office in the middle of the day, it meant staying later to make up for lost hours. By the time I got home, it was dark, and to my surprise, the twins were in their rooms, winding down for the night.
I rapped my knuckles against Sara’s door first because it was always open for a welcome. “Hey, kiddo.” I smiled at Sara, who sat cross-legged on her bed in a pink tie-dye pajama set, and her hair rested in a messy bun atop her head.
“Hi, Mom.” She set her laptop aside and opened her arms for a hug.
I embraced Sara tightly, relishing her warmth. She was my sunshine, always there to brighten up my day. As I pulled away from the hug, I couldn”t help but notice a glimmer of concern in her eyes.
”Is everything okay, Mom?” Worry laced her voice.
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. ”Yeah, just had a long day at work and some things on my mind. But I”m okay.”
“Are you and Brett okay?” Concern pooled in her big eyes.
The question threw me, and ice ran through my blood for a split second. “Yeah. We’re great. Why?”
“It’s just that…” She paused, searching the room for something. “I don’t know. I really like him.”
It didn’t surprise me that Brett fit in well within our home, but to hear my daughter admit it made everything all the more real. I also realized that with all the craziness from the day, I missed Brett’s calls, didn’t return any of them, and only shot him a quick text saying, ‘crazy day.’
“Brett and I are great. Seriously, Sara. Don’t worry, okay?” I pressed my forehead against hers, and when a smile cracked across her face, I knew she believed me. I kissed her cheek and left her room.
My eyes darted down and across the hallway to Zoe’s closed door with a sign reading, ‘Must Knock.’ I took a deep breath and knocked lightly on Zoe”s door, waiting for her response. After a few moments, I heard a muffled ”Come in” and entered her room. Zoe was sprawled out on her bed, flipping through something on her tablet. As soon as she saw me, she sat up with a curious look.
”Hey, Mom,” she greeted me, lifting an eyebrow. ”Everything alright?” Zoe tossed the tablet aside and pushed up against the black headboard. She tucked herself under the matching covers. I gazed around the room, realizing how much color her room lacked, aside from the light pink hue from the fairy lights hanging above her head.
I gave her a small smile and sat at the edge of her bed. ”Yeah, everything”s fine,” I reassured her. ”Just had a long day and wanted to check in with my girls.”
Zoe arched her eyebrow even higher, seeing through my lie. ”Uh-huh,” she replied skeptically.
“I saw Dad today, and we spoke.”
Zoe instantly rolled her eyes and hugged her knees up to her chest.
“Are you mad at your father?”
Zoe did a double-take and shut her mouth, teeth clanking, before answering. “I don’t hate him if that’s what you’re asking.” She reached over and turned off her bedside lamp, shutting this conversation and me out.
“Can’t we just talk about this a little?”
“We are talking, okay? If Dad wants to talk to me about something, let him call me. Or talk about it in person. Don’t act like his messenger.”
“He didn’t put me up to this. I just…” I trailed off, losing focus. “You haven’t been the same since the divorce.”
“I was eight when you guys split.” Zoe hoisted the covers up to her chin, drowning me out. “Of course, I’ve changed since.”
I leaned against the headboard and gazed at my daughter”s silhouette under the covers. It pained me to see her shutting me out, building walls to protect herself from further disappointment. I knew she needed more than just words from me; she needed action, reassurance that I was there for her.
Taking a deep breath, I gently touched Zoe”s arm. She flinched at first but then relaxed slightly under my touch. ”Zoe, I”m sorry,” I whispered, my voice strained with emotion.
“Don’t be,” she mumbled under the black duvet blanket. “And to answer your question, I don’t hate Dad. I just don’t like him sometimes. He could have just left before finding someone to replace us with.” Zoe exhaled, and when I thought I could insert my opinion, she said, “Goodnight.”
I should have fought harder, just pushed Zoe for one more minute of opening up her chest of wounds to me, but I didn’t. “Goodnight.”