43. Whitney
43
WHITNEY
“ D id you sign them yet?”
Caroline sits across from me at the diner, her arms crossed. The bags under her eyes more pronounced than usual, probably a mirror of my own. Since Liam left a few days ago, I feel like I’m in a waking nightmare. One that never seems to end.
“I will,” I reply unsteadily, unsure who I’m trying to convince more: her, or myself.
She frowns. “What are you waiting for?”
“Why do you care?” I snap, my patience thinning.
Avoiding my gaze, she picks at her napkin, tearing small pieces off and flicking them onto the table. The past few days have been an absolute nightmare. Between my mother’s constant badgering and my cold, empty apartment, I feel completely defeated. I don’t know why she won’t leave me alone about it, but Caroline has taken to texting me twice a day to ask if I signed the divorce papers.
“I don’t understand what’s taking you so long. The relationship was fake?—”
I shake my head. “I already told you it wasn’t fake. My feelings for him were real.”
She meets my gaze, her expression unreadable. “Really?”
I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. “I think he’s the only person I’ve ever really loved.” Tears gather at the corners of my eyes, and I blink furiously, wishing them away.
“I thought?—”
“We’re not here to talk about me. I can get you the money by tomorrow.”
“Oh.” She blinks then coughs, and for a while she just sits there looking more through me than at me. “Don’t worry about it,” she says eventually. “I figured it out.”
Why the lack of reaction? All she’s done since Liam left is go on about the damn money, and now it’s figured out ? Before I can reply, she starts sliding out of the booth.
I grab her arm, confused. “You just got here.”
“I have to go.” Avoiding my gaze, she flees from the diner like a thief in the night.
I shake my head, baffled by her actions but too tired to worry about it any longer.
“More coffee?” the waitress asks, holding up a steaming pot. I shake my head and ask for the check. After I finish paying, I stumble out onto the sidewalk. Glancing around, I can’t help but see all the happy couples passing by, their hands intertwined, their heads turned towards each other like they have a secret language away from the world.
A pang of longing hits me in the gut.
Reaching into my pocket, I dial Mr. Wilson, the attorney in charge of my grandmother’s estate. I figure I should inform him about the divorce and see what’s going to happen with the remainder of my inheritance.
“Trent Wilson,” he answers immediately.
“Hi, it’s Whitney Rhodes,” I say, trying to keep the sadness out of my voice. “Agnes Rhodes’ granddaughter?”
“Ah, yes! Ms. Rhodes, how are you?”
I shake my head. “I’m fine, thank you. I just wanted to inform you that… my marriage is… well, I’m getting a divorce.”
It’s quiet for a moment before he responds. “I’m very sorry to hear that.”
“What happens with my inheritance now?” I ask him.
“Give me just one moment.” I hear papers shuffling on his end. “Okay, so in the case that you did not meet the requirements laid out in the will, your inheritance would defer to Agnes’ last living kin, which would be your mother, Caroline.”
I’m shocked into silence.
If I get a divorce, my mom gets the money.
Suddenly, everything seems to crystallize and click into place. No wonder she’s been showing up again. Pushing me so hard to sign the papers. Just when I thought I couldn’t possibly be any more disappointed in Caroline, this happens. I always knew she cared about her herself more than she cared about me, but I never expected she’d…
“Ms. Rhodes? Are you still there?” Trent interrupts my spiraling.
“Yeah, um, thanks for letting me know. I guess… yeah. I guess that’s what is happening.”
“I can wait a few days to start processing it,” Trent suggests, his tone sympathetic. “If you’d like?”
I sigh. “That would be great. Thanks.”
“No problem, Ms. Rhodes. You take care.”
I hang up the phone, my mind reeling. Then, because of course it does, it starts raining. Big, fat raindrops that drip down my forehead as I glance up at the sky with an exasperated smirk. Covering my head, I pick up my pace, jogging back to my apartment. When I get there, I see a familiar figure sitting on the stoop with his head in his hands, the rain pouring over his messy, golden hair.
My heart drops.
Liam .
What is he doing here?
The image of his ring sitting on the kitchen counter flashes through my mind like a taunt. Without thinking, I turn on my heels and run. I don’t know if he’s seen me, but I can’t take the chance. My feet carry me down the street, my body moving on autopilot. I run, and run, and run until I’m out of breath. By the time I stop, I’m blocks away from home and soaked through my clothes. I slip my phone out of my pocket and dial Abbi, but it goes to voicemail. She immediately sends me a text.
Abbi: Can’t talk. Everything okay?
I reply telling her that everything is fine, even though my heart is racing. Sweat drips from my brow down my forehead. Checking my texts and calls again, I notice that Liam hasn’t tried to reach out to me at all, which makes no sense. Why was he waiting for me outside my place?
Feeling overwhelmed, I spot a dive bar across the street and make my way inside. The place is mostly empty since it’s the late afternoon, but I grab a seat at the bar and order a tequila soda. Exhaustion hits me all at once, an overwhelming feeling of loss spreading through me. I can’t keep running forever. If Liam wants to talk, I should just get it out of the way so that I can move on. But the thought of what he might say… I don’t know if I can handle hearing that it’s over straight from his lips. Lips that once pressed against mine in a way that felt like forever. As much as it hurt to see his signature on that page, it might hurt more to see the look on his face as we say goodbye for the last time.
Chugging the remainder of my drink, I signal the bartender for another one. I guess this is my plan for the rest of the day: drink and wallow. I have a meeting with Sharon tomorrow to go over finances, and I’m scheduled to do a final check with the construction crew later in the evening. All I can do is throw myself into work and ignore that the rest of my life is falling apart. If I can focus on the salon opening, I don’t have to think about the fact that I’m going to have a divorce under my belt before thirty. I can ignore everything falling apart in my life and just spend every waking moment on All Rhodes.
Just as long as I don’t find Liam on my stoop again.