Chapter 4 – Juliette #2
A woman, who’d given it to me straight.
If I filed for divorce without cause, given that everything had been left directly to Creed in the will, it would be less likely that a judge would award me my fair share of the value of the property.
Which, in my opinion, was all of it, minus Creed’s fifty thousand dollars.
However, if Creed filed for divorce, a judge’s sympathies might lie with the former owner’s daughter being suddenly turned off the land she’d been born to.
“Can’t you consider just giving this a chance? Let’s just see if we can make this work together.”
“Um, let me consider that? No, thanks.”
“I’m not divorcing you,” Creed said, predictably. The man was a stubborn son of a gun.
But if I had cause when I filed for divorce, that would also help my case.
“Fine. Whatever,” I said, with a shrug. “Listen, if you’re really set on sticking this marriage out, though, I’d appreciate you finding…company elsewhere.”
“Company?”
“I’ve made it clear I’m not having sex with you. So you are free to fuck whoever you would like. You probably won’t find any action in town, it’s too small. But you can go to Jefferson, Billings, Missoula. Wherever.”
He pulled up to the house and parked the truck on a gravel area just beyond the house.
We didn’t have a garage. It was just the house, and the barn where all the other farming equipment was stored.
Because on a farm, sheltering the tractor from the elements was way more important than protecting a bunch of trucks.
“You think if we don’t fuck, you can get an annulment. Is that your play?” he asked.
I shook my head. Annulment. Divorce. It didn’t matter to the court.
I only had to show cause. Physical abuse was an option, but I didn’t see that coming from him. He was too controlled. All that bullshit about killing too many people, I didn’t buy it.
Creed was a coldhearted asshole, not a psycho killer.
If he wasn’t going to rape me, then he wasn’t going to beat me, either.
Which left adultery.
If I made it clear that he was free to sleep with whomever he liked, I could collect enough evidence of his infidelities. Then I could show it to a judge with crocodile tears pouring out of my eyes.
My poor, poor broken heart! How ever will I recover from his betrayal?
“Why is it so hard for you to grasp that I don’t want to get into bed with a stranger who showed up one day and stole my farm and home out from under me?”
He leaned into me then, crowding me to one side of the truck.
“I didn’t steal anything, sweetheart. Your father promised me a wife, and a wife I’ll have,” his eyes did that thing again.
Like he could see through my clothes and knew what I looked like naked.
“I can make it good for you. I can make it…so you like it.”
His words reverberated through my body and I could feel a strange heat suffuse my cheeks.
I’d told him it was none of his damn business. And it wasn’t. But of course, I was a virgin. Herb had kept too close a watch on me. My one day of freedom after I’d turned eighteen, I had a choice to get laid or get birth control, and I’d gone with the obvious one.
My coffee date with Kevin, was the only one I’d ever had.
I had no concept of good or not good sex, but it didn’t matter.
I didn’t want it. Any of it. Him. Sex. This godforsaken farm.
“Give me the fifty thousand and I’ll leave,” I said, quickly.
It was nothing in comparison to what I was owed.
The land itself was worth a least a million dollars.
But fifty thousand would at least give me a chance to start a new life.
“Put the money in an account under my name and I’ll file for divorce.
You get all of this. The house, the farm and me gone. ”
“What do you get?” he asked me, still pushing into my space. Making it so I could smell him.
“Freedom.”
His eyes narrowed. He was close enough in my space, I could see all the scars along his face. Sometimes I wondered why he didn’t grow a beard to cover them.
“No.”
“Why not?” I shouted. “Who the fuck gets a farm and a house for fifty thousand dollars? I’m handing it to you. Just let me go!”
He shook his head. “When I got discharged I had to meet with a shrink for an evaluation. She said after big life events, you need to give shit time to settle. Whatever you felt for him, your pop just died. You need time to settle. I give you what you think you want and you’ll regret it.
Maybe not in a few months, but in a few years you’ll look back and kick yourself in the ass.
I’m not saying we were meant for each other.
I’m not saying this is fucking fate. But I’ve come to realize these past few months, we’re a lot alike.
We’re both strong. And stubborn. Most importantly, we’re both ruthless.
Once you get over your silly, little girl dreams about Prince Charming and making love on a cloud, you’ll see that this could be a good life for us. ”
“You’re delusional,” I told him.
“Maybe. But I’m not giving you the money. I’m not stepping out on you. And I’m sure as hell not divorcing you. So, let’s just go inside and get on with the business of living.”
He pulled away then and I got out of the truck. Together, we walked into the house.
I went to my room and he went to his.
We both needed to change and do chores. A farm didn’t stop for funerals.
When I closed the bedroom door behind me, I thought for a second he might try something now. This was the first time we were in the house alone without Herb or his dead body.
All that talk about making it good for me…maybe he wouldn’t call it rape, maybe he would just call it whatever the hell he wanted to.
But my door stayed closed.
And if my nipples were hard when I took off my nice bra to replace it with a more practical sports bra, I blamed it on the house being cold.