Chapter 14—Christa #3
I study him. Judith adores Tate, the son she finally got after trying so many times. Bernard built half his identity around him. A week ago, Tate thought their disappointment would pass as soon as the trust transferred. Apparently, he was wrong about that too.
“Mom says she needs time,” he says. “Dad says I used both of them.”
“You did.”
His expression hardens. “I know.” The answer comes without an excuse. That’s new.
I don’t reward it.
Tate looks at the settlement agreement. “Celeste won’t speak to me, and Charla keeps calling from jail.”
“She’s still there?”
“Her arraignment was Monday. She couldn’t make the bond they set.” He rubs a thumb along the edge of the paper.
I know Jai has been tracking the criminal case because the lender’s investigation affects my credit records, but I haven’t asked for daily updates. Hearing it from Tate is better. “Dad isn’t helping?”
Tate gives me a disgusted look. “You know he isn’t.”
I do. Dad called me Monday night after Charla called him from the detention center. He was upset. He was angry. He was also finished paying people to erase her mistakes. I told him I was proud of him. Charla probably wouldn’t appreciate that conversation, which makes it even better for me.
Tate reaches for the agreement. “Apparently, she’ll qualify for a bond reduction if the judge approves it next week.”
“So she won’t be in jail forever.”
“No.”
I sigh. “Shame.”
Martin actually looks at me.
I shrug. “She stole my identity for a two-hundred-eighty-six-thousand-dollar car after sleeping with my husband. I’m comfortable with my position.”
Jai looks at Martin. “She’s been very consistent.”
Martin inclines his head. “That she has.”
Tate flips to the signature page and picks up Martin’s pen. He pauses before signing. “Do you hate me?”
The question is so unexpected that nobody moves for a second. I consider it. “No.”
His expression lightens a bit.
I take my time because he deserves the whole answer. “Hating you would require more investment than I have left. I wanted you ruined, and you’re doing an excellent job of it.”
Tate looks down at the agreement, and his face falls.
I continue before he can mistake that for mercy.
“I enjoy the trust decision and knowing your father finally understands what you did. I enjoy that Celeste chose her daughters over protecting you and that archaic trust structure. I’m pleased Charla is in jail, and I especially love knowing I wasn’t the reason we couldn’t conceive. ”
He grips the pen harder.
“None of that requires me to hate you.”
Martin shifts the agreement closer. “Tate.”
Tate signs. The scratch of the pen across paper is ordinary, almost disappointing after everything it represents. He pushes the agreement toward me.
Jai reviews the signature, then turns the pages in my direction. “You still want the terms as revised?”
“Yes.” I sign where she indicates.
Tate watches me write my married name for what should be one of the last times. “You’re changing it back?”
I finish the signature before answering. “Immediately.”
“To Kaffey?”
“Yes.”
He twists his mouth. “Same name as Charla.”
I cap the pen. “She doesn’t own it.”
Jai collects the pages and passes them to Martin for copies.
The meeting should be over, but Tate stays seated. Martin closes his portfolio. “Tate.”
“I know.” He stands, although his attention remains on me. “Was there ever a chance?”
The question irritates me more than the others. He wants me to tell him the marriage was doomed anyway. That would make the affair incidental, and his choices less expensive. I’m not giving him that.
“When I hired Jai, I thought we’d reached the end. Months earlier, I still wanted you to notice what was happening to us. I wanted you to come to one appointment or believe me when I said I was unhappy.” I slide my copy of the agreement into my bag. “There were plenty of chances. You used them up.”
Tate stares at me as I stand. His medical report is still on the desk. I pick it up by one corner and hold it toward him. He takes it, and for a moment, we’re both holding opposite ends of the page. “Three years,” I say. “You could’ve known three years ago.”
He releases a rough sound and takes the report from me.
I let go of everything.
Martin guides him toward the door, but Tate stops with one hand on the frame and looks back. “I am sorry.”
I believe he means it, but that doesn’t make it worth anything. “I’m glad you’re capable of apologizing.”
“Good.”
He waits, perhaps expecting more.
I sit down beside Jai again and reach for my copy of the settlement.
After another second, Tate leaves. The door closes, and Jai remains quiet until his footsteps disappear down the hall. Then she turns toward me. “How much of that did you enjoy?”
I consider lying. “Most of it.”
She nods. “I assumed.”
“The azoospermia part especially.”
“I also assumed that.” Jai gathers the remaining papers into one stack. She’s smiling.
I look down at the line where Tate signed away his objection to the divorce schedule. For years, I thought I’d have to mourn the family I couldn’t give him. Now Tate knows exactly who couldn’t make one.
I smile and hand Jai the agreement. “How fast can we get me unmarried?”