Dirty Forever (The Dirty Suburbs Book 8) Page 2

  I shouldn’t have left the house this morning. My gut told me to stay home. After having my faith in the males of the human race shattered by my estranged husband, I've become a bit of a menace to others. I've developed a talent for cycling through a dozen inconsistent emotions in twelve seconds flat as I sit at home in my pajamas, eating peanut butter straight from the jar and watching my wedding video on loop. Sadness often gives way to anger, which quickly morphs into fear. Naturally, self-pity comes next, chased down by guilt. Routinely, the need for revenge makes an appearance, too, before I somehow end up crying hysterically over the irony of the whole thing. And on and on it goes.

  But there comes a point in a divorcing mother's journey when she looks down and notices that, in her pathetic weeping stupor, she's dripped slimy globs of snot into her bewildered child's hair. In that moment, she has a choice to make – she can continue to clutch her resistant toddler close to her chest as she rocks back and forth simultaneously lamenting the demise of her marriage and thinking up the complex Ponzi schemes she'll have to put into motion to finance the years and years of therapy that her son will inevitably need. Or she can get up and fight.

  And by ‘fight’, I mean bake cookies.

  That’s how I ended up at the damn grocery store to make an ass of myself for all of Reyfield to see. These cookies better be worth it, Gracie.

  I sit Sebastian in his car seat and hand him a teething toy to gnaw on. Then, I shove the groceries into the trunk and tear out of the parking lot like a haunted troll with the Ghostbusters hot on my trail. I blast the radio hoping to drown my mortification as I drive across our small town back to the split-level colonial that used to be a home, my home.

  I remember when we bought this house. We dreamed of filling it to the rafters with babies. Daniel joked about installing shelves on the walls that they could sleep on because we'd never have enough room for beds. That's how many kids we were going to have. I touch a hand to my belly, queasy at the reality that that dream will never come true.

  Guiding the Caravan into the driveway, I cut the engine. I drop my head to the steering wheel and exhale heavily.

  I still can't believe it all fell apart. It seems like just yesterday, he and I were standing at the alter, delusionally blissful with stars in our eyes, making each other promises that ultimately, we couldn't keep. I never in a million years expected things to turn out this way. Daniel Trotten wasn't supposed to break my heart. He was supposed to be my happily-ever-after.

  Why did I expect that we’d be different, that we’d last? We were always a mismatch. When we met in the halls of Wayne State, he was the perfect package with McDreamy hair and the swagger of a college jock, the dark features and the smile that made grown women blush. I was the quiet nerdy girl with messy blonde hair, my attention focused solely on getting the best grades and scholarships. Daniel swooped into my life and turned everything on its head and I feel like I’ve been loving him on borrowed time ever since.

  No…we were never meant to be.

  Love doesn’t last. I’ve known this all my life. I watched my father walk out on our family and never look back. That’s what men do, isn’t it? So, I have no right to be surprised that my marriage fell apart.

  Pushing a sigh, I grab my son and my groceries and plod up the driveway. Once we get inside the house, I hand Sebastian his sippy cup and some cheese cubes then he wanders off into the living room to play with his toys. I dig into my grocery bags and rummage around until I find it.

  Semi-sweet chocolate baking squares.

  I brandish it victoriously in the air because there’s only one thing that will make me feel better right now—home-baked triple chocolate cookies…And red velvet brownies…And chocolate strawberry cheesecake muffins.

  Some people deal with their depression by drinking. Others turn to shopping. Me? I bake. And I eat. Chocolate is my coping mechanism of choice.

  Yes, it's full of calories that my cellulite-friendly thighs don't exactly need but it tastes good and it keeps me from going on a rage-filled vandalism spree at the offices of Richards, Ross and Associates where my asshole husband works. In my fantasies, I show up in canvas sneakers with my baseball cap on backward and use Daniel’s overpriced silk neckties to tie him to his swivelling executive chair. Then, I force him to watch me go around smashing all electronic devices in sight with a crowbar while I shake my ass and drunkenly holler Katy Perry songs. The ideal way to inflict mental anguish on his workaholic ass.

  Shoving my revenge fantasy aside, I get to work in the kitchen, measuring, sifting, mixing. Time flies by and with the pop music blasting, I manage to suffocate my insecurities for a little while.

  Lost in a world of vanilla and chocolate, the fragrance of baked goods fills the house. It fills the hole in my heart. It numbs the ache I feel every time I glance over by the back door and Daniel’s boots aren’t there or when I notice that his favorite coffee cup isn’t in the sink.

  He’s gone.

  I asked him to leave. And he did. And now, I’ve filed for divorce.

  I feel like my lungs are shriveling up. I’m not the bad guy here, I remind myself. I gave him his chance.

  A few weeks ago, Daniel showed up here proclaiming his love for me, saying that he wanted to come back home. I agreed to a date with him, a night at the theater, a night for him to prove once and for all that he really wanted to put our family back together like he kept saying. And he blew it. He cancelled our date at the last minute so that—wait for it…—he could go to work!

  Of course it stung that he put work above our family yet again but I should have known better than to trust him. Over the past year or so, he’s shown me again and again that family just doesn’t mean as much to him as his job does. He’ll never change. I have to accept that.

  I just wish it didn’t hurt so bad…

  There isn’t enough oxygen in this over-heated kitchen. I lean forward and grasp the lip of the counter in front of me. I fold over, fighting for my next breath. Hot tears drip from my eyes onto the counter, pooling on the laminate.

  Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

  This isn’t what I wanted. I thought that signing those papers would free me of the pain that’s been strangling me for the past thirteen months. I was wrong. Now, I feel even more lost, even more directionless. I used to be the picture of poise and well…grace. I think that’s what Daniel fell in love with. But I’ve devolved into a hot mess.

  Maybe that’s why he fell out of love with me, why he didn’t care that I was crumbling in our marriage.

  A voice explodes from somewhere down the hall, pulling me out of my self-pity party and startling the hell out of. “Grace! Grace, where the hell are you?”

  I bolt upright at the sound of Faith’s voice.

  Damn—can a girl get a minute to wallow in this town without someone breathing down her neck?

  Sucking in a quick inhalation, I wipe my tears away with the back of my hand. A second later both of my younger sisters march right into my kitchen.

  “Hey!” I say, as a counterfeit smile slips onto my mouth.

  Faith’s eyes scan the room and her brows furrow. I follow the path of her stare. The place is a mess. Flour dusting the floor, sticky utensils filling up the sink, dollops of cake batter splashed on the counters and piles of dessert on the stovetop. “What is going on with you?”

  I wipe my hands down the front of my apron. “Uh, nothing. I’m cool.”

  A very pregnant Lily waddles in behind her, carrying Sebastian on her hip. “Sweetie, you’re not okay. You can’t be. Not after what just happened. It’s all over Facebook.”

  Heat runs through me. Today just keeps going from bad to worse. This town is way too small. “You already heard about what I did at the grocery store?” I sigh. “I really took it out on that poor cashier…”

  “The grocery store?” Faith questions as she snatches a cookie from the baking tray. “I’m talking about what happened at the courthouse.”

  “Okay, now I’m confused
.” I lean against the counter and wait for her to explain.

  My sisters exchange a look. “I told you she didn’t do this deliberately,” Lily mutters under her breath as she grabs a cookie for herself.

  Hello! Still waiting for an explanation…

  “What are you talking about? You guys are scaring me.”

  Faith pulls out her phone and taps away at the screen. Seconds later, I’m looking at a video of a press conference. Daniel is at the center of it, looking smug and confident. Fucking handsome jerk with his effortlessly tussled hair and his unwavering smirk. Those wide shoulders that fill out his suits just right and the strong chest that’s always puffed out like a peacock.

  A man bursts through the crowd and hands him an envelope. I watch my husband’s face drop as he reads the papers inside. Then there’s a close-up. The camera zooms in and my fucking divorce petition is on the fucking internet!

  A choked sound gets stuck in my throat. No…no…please…fuck…no…

  “You filed for divorce, Gracie? Was it really that bad? You two couldn’t work things out?” Faith shakes her head, disappointed. “And you had him served in public like that? It was on the news! It’s even trending on Twitter—#HowToDumpALawyer.” She takes a bite of the cookie. Momentarily distracted, she moans, staring at it in her hand. “This is good!”

  Clutching a sticky hand over my stomach, I try to speak but nothing comes out. I’m absolutely shocked and mortified at the idea of total strangers commenting about my divorce proceedings on the Internet.

  Lily pulls out a chair at the kitchen table and sinks down with Sebastian in her lap. “Faith, stop it,” she says, eyeing our sister sternly as she hands my son a brownie.

  But Faith is too riled up to care. “I get it. You’re pissed at him. But you humiliated the guy.”

  I look at her, shaking my head and tears are streaming down my face again. I never meant for this to happen. I didn’t mean to embarrass him or hurt him. I just wanted to put an end to the pain that’s been corroding my insides. I got tired of living in limbo, of not know whether we were coming or going. I just wanted closure. That was my motivation for filing those papers.

  Daniel is probably livid. And I can’t blame him.

  My throat finally opens up for a few words to squeak out. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.”

  Faith plants her hands on her hips. “What do you mean?”

  I push fat tears away with my thumbs. “Fucking Jim Thatcher…I knew that he hated Daniel but I didn’t think it ran this deep. I’m positive that he planned it so that the papers would get served to Daniel in an embarrassing way.”

  “So why did you hire him? If you knew that he hates Daniel, why did you hire him as your lawyer?” Faith leans against the fridge and shoves the rest of her cookie into her mouth.

  I shrug my shoulders. “This is Reyfield. I didn’t have many choices for legal representation,” I tell her in a cutting tone.

  I can’t believe that she’s doubting me like this. I would expect this kind of second-guessing from Lily, our half-sister who we only met a few months ago when she moved to Reyfield. But Faith? We grew up together, sharing a tiny eight by twelve square-foot bedroom in a small town just outside of Philadelphia where our mother still lives with her new husband. She should know me better than that.

  If Faith thinks I could be this vindictive, I know that other people will also assume the worst.

  Lily comes to my defence. “Look—things aren’t always what they seem. For what it’s worth, I believe you, Gracie. I know that you wouldn’t put a grudge against Daniel over the wellbeing of your child. You two have to raise Sebastian together. I know the last thing you want is to be at war with Daniel.”

  I pull in a shaky breath, relieved that someone believes me. “I wouldn’t do that to him…” My voice comes out in a choked whisper. “I love him…”

  Faith observes me for a long moment and then sighs, wrapping an arm around me. “I’m sorry, Gracie. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. I just hate what’s happened between the two of you. You used to be so in love. I never told you this, but I was so jealous of the relationship you and Daniel had. Before I married Maxwell, I wished that I could find someone to love me just a fraction of how much Daniel loved you…That’s why I can’t bring myself to believe that it’s over. I mean, really? It’s over?” Her eyes water as she speaks.

  Now, Lily is crying, too. Sebastian squirms uncomfortably in her lap, no doubt weighed down by the heavy emotions in the room.

  Faith shakes me lightly. “Gracie. Do something. You can’t just let your marriage be over. Fix it!”

  “I’m not the villain here…” I mumble.

  “I never said you were the villain. I just…” She trails off.

  “I tried to fix it,” I tell her defensively.

  Daniel made his choice. I am not the villain.

  She freezes and her eyes go hard. “Wait—did he cheat on you?!” She looks like she’d readily commit a felony if I say ‘yes’.

  I shake my head quickly. “No, he didn’t cheat on me.”

  My sisters both look at me suggestively, asking a silent question.

  I scoff. “No, I didn’t cheat on him, either!”

  Faith breathes a sigh of relief. “Then, maybe you didn’t try hard enough,” she says thoughtfully.

  And now, my temper snaps. People don’t know the details of my marriage, they don’t know the painful secrets that only Daniel and I share and how those secrets gutted our relationship from the inside out. They don’t know all the times I tried to connect with him and he just shut me out, turning instead to his work.

  "You don't get to have an opinion about my marriage!” I snarl as I glower at her. She has no clue what I’m going through. Her NFL superstar husband worships the ground she walks on. “Ever since you got married to Maxwell, your life is a freakin' Bruno Mars music video – private jets and luxury and a man who adores you. Not everyone is as lucky as you, Miss Hot Shot—” I peel my eyes off of her and throw Lily an equally bitter look. “—or you, Little Miss House on the Prairie.” She married Jakob Wilkinson, one of the grumpiest men I’ve ever seen, and managed to turn his frown upside down. Now, they live on a farm and milk cows at dusk and have sex in horse stables under the moonlight or whatever it is that farm people do.

  My sisters have found love.

  And I’ve lost it.

  Lily holds up a hand defensively. “Jeez. Calm down. We really need to get you out of this funk before it gets out of control.” She looks to Faith, speaking about me as if I’m not standing right there. “If we don’t put a stop to this, next thing we know she’ll be riding around town wielding a chainsaw out the window of her minivan and mowing people down at the crosswalk while she stuffs chocolate muffins into her face and shouts feminist slogans…” Her attention flits back to me. “Amazing chocolate muffins, by the way.” She holds up her second muffin in salute.

  From the expression Faith is wearing, I can tell that she considers the words about to come out of her mouth to be pure genius. “We should throw her a vajazzle party,” she tells Lily. “We’llinvite all the girls. I mean—what better way to take control of your life than with a freshly-waxed, jewel-studded vulva!”

  Lily’s face goes wary. “Uh—sorry hun. Aside from Jakob, the only person I want near my vulva at the moment is my midwife.”

  “Well, if you’ve got another idea, let me hear it because we can’t just leave her here to keep churning out cookies.” Faith warns. “Speaking of cookies, can I have another one?”

  I give a weak, little laugh as I hand off another treat to sister and scarf one down, too. “I’m gonna get so fat,” I moan, defeated.

  Faith grins, bumping her hip against mine. “Hey, ‘curvy’ is a thing, y’know!” She’s trying to comfort me. It isn’t working.

  My eyes rotate into my skull as I wipe crumbs off of my mouth with the back of my hand. “Easy for you to say with your tiny, little butt.”

&n
bsp; My sisters laugh and my heart feels a little bit less broken. God—I’m glad I have them. I’m going to need them to get through this. My other friends will take sides and I’m not too sure that they’ll take mine.

  This is gonna suck.

  But it’s the right thing to do. It’s the adult thing to do. Daniel and I can’t fix things so it’s better to let each other go. He probably won’t see that now, but hopefully, one day he will.

  When Faith’s phone beeps, her gaze bounces to the screen in her hand. Her eyes go wide and her jaw drops. Lily sits upright in her chair. “What is it?” I hear the fear and tension in her voice.