And with that, I hang up. It will infuriate him, I’ll hear about it for weeks to come, and I know this isn’t the last of this fight. But right now, I don’t care.
Like I said, I’m putting my own happiness first. Right now, my priority is going back to that radiant woman and making sure she feels as comfortable as possible in what is going to be one of the most trying times of her life.
So, that’s exactly what I do.
27
Hannah
Walker left for spring training today, and my world feels a little dimmer.
Not that I don’t have any number of things to keep me distracted. Between the salon, the girls, my legal battles, and the tasks that come with living everyday life, I’ve got a full plate.
Things at Siesta couldn’t be going better, honestly. I’ve been there for a few months now and have taken on a lot more responsibility. I’ve been assisting with dye jobs, jumping in to style and blow dry if someone doesn’t have time, and training on the scheduling program. Ginny is talking about paying for me to renew my license, which I told her she didn’t have to do, but after the trial and the divorce are all settled, I fully plan on going back to school and getting it done. I want to work in my fullest capacity as a hairdresser, and give my girls a life that I can be proud of providing.
The divorce continues to be drawn out, with Shane sending his lawyers back with pettier and pettier terms. Aside from the house and the child support, I don’t want a single thing. But he’s not budging. I wish, God I wish so badly, that I was set up enough to just walk away and not need anything from him. But the girls would suffer if I did that, and so I have to keep on fighting.
Walker is one of the bright spots in my weeks, and now I won’t see him for at least a month. Not until he’s able to come home for a long weekend. And then after that, the season will start up. I know all about being a baseball girlfriend and wife, and our together time is about to become very scarce. I’m not scared, per se, about what that means for our relationship. It will definitely be a challenge, but I’m willing to make it work.
He’s worth everything, all of the lonely nights of missing him and strain it will put on my divorce process. Walker is the kindest, most worthy man I’ve ever known, and I’m not letting him go.
I was a little taken aback that he was so honest about his past feelings for me. Of course, over the years, I suspected something. There was always that spark that never would go out between us. As a married woman, I chose to ignore it. But I always wondered what could have been if I’d met Walker, somehow, instead of Shane.
Now, looking back, I wish I had the courage to explore that. Not that I was a cheater or would want to betray someone, but I stayed in an abusive marriage for five years when the right guy was standing right in front of me. I feel like a fool for that, and also for not telling him how deeply I’ve fallen for him before he left for Florida and the spring training facilities.
Some things, though, are better left for after the hardest pills I have to swallow. Kind of like gleaming gems I’m keeping in my back pocket to celebrate with after the darkness dissipates.
The trial starts in two weeks and prepping for it has become a full-time job. I’m on the phone with Laurel, the prosecutor, nearly every day. Between my anxiety and her own need to nail every single detail into place, we’re doing a bang-up job of covering all our bases. I’m terrified of what is to come, what I’ll have to relive during it … because I feel like a completely different person than that weak woman who let her husband hurt and abuse her. But I also want it to happen, so it can be over one way or another.
I’m surfing on my laptop, looking at different continuing education and certification courses, when there is a harsh knock at the front door. I check the clock, because the girls are at visitation with Shane and Dahlia is out. It’s barely dinner time, so I’m confused as I go to answer it, but am not thinking about anything.
My heart halts as I open the door.
“What are you …” I catch myself. “Hi, bugs!”
I try to paste on my most enthusiastic smile as I take in the sight of Shane, standing on my front steps, our two daughters with sullen expressions on their faces standing behind him.
“Hi, honey.” He puts on his most charming smile, but all I see are the cracks of evil underneath.
“Mommy!” Breanna runs to me from behind him, and he almost reaches out to snatch her but she falls into my arms first.
I clutch her to me and kiss her head. “Noelle, can you bring your sister into the living room? Put the TV on.”
The look I try to give my five-year-old is one of gentle urgency, and I thank God that she understands enough to walk into the condo and take her sister’s hand.
I don’t let Shane pass the doorway, using my body to block my residence, but fear is blooming inside me.
“You are not allowed to be here.” I keep my voice low, but that familiar itch of weakness, of submission, is pressing down on my chest like a train hurtling into me.
“It’s a piece of paper, Hannah. Don’t be so dramatic.” He flicks his hand in the air as if this whole situation has been blown out of proportion.
I’ve never met a bigger narcissist. “Shane, you shouldn’t have dropped them off. You still have hours left with them as it is. But I don’t want to call the police. Please leave.”
His eyes grow angry and stormy at the mention of police. “Don’t do that. I haven’t even gotten a chance to talk to you since that night. You never let me explain.
Explain? He put me in the hospital and broke my bones. Through months of therapy, I now know that all of his words are manipulations or gaslighting. There is no reasoning or excuse for what he did, though he was the master of explaining them away when I was still under his spell.
“I want a second chance, Hannah. Please. This is our family.” He points to our daughters, and I burn with fury that he’s just said that in front of them.
I’ve barely gotten the chance to tell my daughters that I won’t be married to their father any longer, in terms that they’ll understand, and now I’ll have to explain what their Daddy is talking about.
“Shane, we’re well past that. I want you to leave.” Keep it short, and don’t give him any reason to argue.
It doesn’t matter what I say, though, Shane is irate and insistent. “You think you’ll really find anyone better than me? You’re pathetic, Hannah. No man is going to want you. Walker Callahan is just amusing himself with my sloppy seconds.”
There was only a minute between him groveling for a second chance and insulting me, and I shouldn’t be surprised.
“Please. Leave.” I’m five seconds away from calling the police, which is something I don’t want to do.
As it is, he’s defying the restraining order. This could land him in jail. But if he goes quietly, I’ll only report it to my lawyers.
Instead, Shane doubles down, and I see it the moment things are about to turn extremely ugly. “You ruined my entire life, you fucking cunt. I can’t play baseball, can’t see my kids! I should be in Florida right now, with my team! You did this!”
The girls are standing right behind me, and I feel Noelle’s little hands trembling on my legs.