Olivia
Iwalk into Derek's office in Tipp City at four thirty on a Tuesday because he insists the visitation addendum needs both signatures in person. I just don't have the energy to fight him today. Besides, the more I protest, the worse he seems to get.
His receptionist waves me back and I find him behind his desk with a folder already open and flagged with sticky tabs.
It's always intimidating seeing him in his element.
When we were in college, I saw parts of his shark personality, but I always praised him for being able to own a courtroom in mock trial.
Now I wish I'd have known that wasn't just his "lawyer personality". He actually is a shark.
"Page three and page seven," he says, sliding the folder across. His dirty scowl makes me second-guess why I'm here. I want to play nice and just put the animosity of the past behind us for Ethan's sake, but it's like Derek has no clue how to do that. All he knows how to do is fight until he wins.
"Hello to you too," I mutter, sitting and pulling it toward me.
I read every line because Derek doesn't get my signature on anything I haven't combed through first. But the form is just something we'd already agreed to weeks ago.
Derek can have Ethan around the holidays this year since his mother's aging and sick.
I sign page three and flip to page seven and sign that too, then close the folder and push it back across the desk.
"Is that all?" I ask, hoping it's as easy as that and I can just slip out of here now, but his phone buzzes and he picks it up.
"Give me one minute. I have to take this." He walks out and pulls the door mostly shut behind him. He honestly could've just said whether I need to stick around for anything else, but now I’m stuck here for God only knows how long, waiting for him to finish his phone call just to harass me more.
I fold my hands in my lap, huffing out a sigh.
It's past time I should've gotten Ethan from the sitter, though I know she'll be fine with him for a while longer.
And when I look at Derek's open laptop, I see the screen is lit up and unlocked.
I wouldn't have looked twice except the name in the subject line of the open email stops me cold—Caleb Ward, in bold, followed by the words Weekly Observation Report.
A wave of tension washes over me and I glance at the door to make sure Derek isn't coming back, then I nudge the computer with my finger, turning it so I can see the screen better.
If Derek's writing up shit about Caleb, I want to know what he's going to tell the judge before I get some dumb court summons.
It isn't fair that he thinks he's better than me and can have his hoochies parading around in front of Ethan.
Meanwhile, it's a crime for me to date a respectable man.
I lean forward and read the first few lines, but it isn’t what I thought.
This email appears to come from Caleb to Derek, not a report he's making up.
It shows a breakdown of my daily routine by the hour—what time I leave the house, what time I come home, how long Ethan plays outside, what I keep in my fridge.
The language reads like something out of a police file, detached and clinical, and every detail in it comes from someone who's been inside my home.
I feel a knot forming in my belly as I scroll down, tilting the screen with one finger to read more. The next section describes my kitchen cabinet. My Sertraline and Zolpidem… It's like he's been spying on me on purpose for Derek, and I feel violated. My body suddenly feels ice cold and I shiver.
My God, Derek hired Caleb to spy on me this whole time. He was never just the charming man who swept me off my feet being helpful and protective. He's been a fucking plant this whole time?
I feel like my whole world is spinning and I'm losing control. I swallow hard and sit back when I hear Derek's footsteps come down the hall. He pushes the door open and walks to his desk, picking up the folder to check my signatures.
"Looks good," he says. "I'll get copies to both attorneys by Friday."
"Who is Caleb Ward to you?" I ask him coldly. This whole time, it was an act? He kept accusing me of something reckless and the whole time, he knew Caleb. Does that mean Caleb has a past I don't know about, one that might jeopardize my future with my son?
Derek looks up from the folder and narrows his eyes at me, then slowly shifts his expression to smug delight. He closes the folder and sets it down and leans back in his chair.
"He's a private investigator I hired to check up on you," he says. "As a former Marine, he's very qualified. He moved in next door at my request."
"At your request?" I say, almost numbly. This can't be happening. I told him things I felt safe saying, and now Derek can use them against me.
"You hired a spy to watch me?" I think I might pass out. I feel dizzy and angry. My chest hammers as I stand up and back toward the door.
"Oh, come off it, Olivia. I asked him to get close enough to see how you actually live when you're not performing for a judge or a mediator. And he did exactly that."
"But I…" I don't let the words come out of my mouth, but all I'm thinking is how I slept with that man. I let him into my home, into my body. God, I'm an idiot.
"Just desserts, honey. You should've just played nice when the judge wanted to grant me partial custody in the beginning." He shakes his head, continuing his rant as I turn and walk out of his office.
I'm a husk of a human as I drive across town, feeling dead inside.
I can't decide what's worse, the idea that Derek would actually hire someone to snoop into my life or that I never saw it coming.
And the idea that the man is so charming and deceptive that I slept with him scares me.
The entire drive home, I can't even think, and I don't know how I got home safely as I climb out and lock up, walking to the front door.
When I walk inside, Ethan's at the table with the sitter doing his homework. He's scowling in concentration as she climbs to her feet and collects her things.
"Hey, buddy. How was your afternoon?"
"Good. I finished my reading already." He holds up his worksheet and taps it with his pencil. "Can you check my math? I think I got them all right this time."
The sitter walks past me smiling, but I'm too numb to speak as she says her goodbye and rushes out the back door. I let Caleb into my heart. I was falling for him, and I let him around Ethan and I never should have. I'm barely holding back tears.
"Let me see." I sit down next to him and pull the paper closer, going through the problems one by one. I'm barely thinking coherently as I circle a few in a row that are correct.
"Told you," he says, grinning.
"You did tell me." I find one he missed and point to it. "This one, though. You carried the wrong number. See?" My mind is reeling, and I'm fighting to stay in the moment, but I think I may start crying any minute.
He looks at it and groans. "I always mess up the carrying part."
"That's what practice is for. Fix that one and the last one and you're done." I hand him the pencil, and he erases and starts reworking it, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth in concentration.
When I hear the front door, I think maybe it's the sitter who forgot something, so I rise from my spot and walk to the living room, opening the door to find Caleb standing on my front porch.
I want to say my heart feels safe and relaxed, but the amount of pain I'm feeling is unreal and the smile on my face is plastic.
"What do you need?" I ask, realizing my tone doesn't match my face.
"You okay?" he asks. "I was going to see if you wanted to grab some fast food and take Ethan to the park. I'd like to talk to you about something."
Tears burn in my eyes, and I blink them back as I clear my throat and clench the door knob. "Ethan has homework tonight, sorry." I feel like a volcano ready to erupt. I expect this out of Derek. The problem is I trusted Caleb and I shouldn’t have.
"Olivia, did something happen? Can we talk?" He moves forward, but I press my lips into a firm line and look down.
"You know, Mr. Ward," I say, looking up at him, and I see the shock and pain in his eyes now too.
"I'd have hoped you'd have heard what that monster did to me and been better.
But you're just like him. You were never here caring about me and my son.
You were stalking me to report back to my ex-husband.
" I'm trembling inside, ready to break down.
"Well, congratulations. You might well have cost me my son. "
"Olivia, wait—"
"Good day, Mr. Ward. Please don't come back to my house for any reason."
I back inside, shutting the door, and the tears start.
They fall heavily for several minutes as I stand there leaning on the door, waiting to hear his footsteps move. When I hear Ethan call my name, I try to fix my face, but there's no point.
That man broke my heart in the same way it'd already been broken, and the sad part is he knew what he was doing as he was doing it, and he did it anyway.
I seem to be a glutton for punishment. The world's punching bag.
And I'm getting really sick of feeling like this.