“I understand completely,” Viola says, as June comes back into the room. “Of course, they are a huge consideration but you need to work out what’s best for you too. You can’t mother them until you take care of yourself.”
“I know what you say is technically correct, but I don’t have that luxury. I won’t fail my kids as a mom. They are my first priority. Protecting them is my primary goal. I’ll hurt myself if it means keeping them sheltered for as long as I can.”
Viola looks like she wants to disagree, but she clamps her lips shut.
“I feel like I failed as a wife, but I won’t fail as a mom.” Being a mom is the only reason I could get out of bed every day this week. I can’t neglect my kids or my responsibilities, and keeping busy with my normal life is as vital as oxygen to me right now.
“Failure isn’t in your DNA,” Viola says. “The only one who failed is that liar you married.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less of you, Kendall, because you’re a freaking amazing mom,” June says, setting the plates and silverware down and opening the bag. “But speaking as someone whose parents divorced when I was ten, I tend to agree with Viola. You need to consider what’s best for you too,” she adds. “I was super upset when my parents first told me, and I was quiet and withdrawn a lot, but over time, I realized it was the best thing for everyone.”
She places cartons on the table, opening them up and shoving some spoons in. “They were always fighting, and things were pretty tense. After they split, Dad made more of an effort with me, and I actually enjoyed spending time separately with them. Both ended up meeting new partners, and they’re much happier now.” June places three cushions on the floor, and we sit cross-legged around the coffee table. “I know your situation isn’t the same, and I’m not trying to tell you what to do, just that sometimes the right thing for kids is divorce.”
“Except Curtis won’t make that easy for her until it suits him.” Viola’s eyes narrow to pinpricks as she stabs a prawn and pops it in her mouth.
“He can’t stop it if it’s what Kendall wants,” June says. “Colorado is a no-fault divorce state, and adultery doesn’t come into it. Ken can file for divorce claiming the marriage is irretrievably broken. Curtis can try to contest it, but it’s rarely successful. Same if he tries to go for full custody. There isn’t a court in the land who would deny Kendall her maternal rights.”
I spoon some chicken fried rice and noodles on my plate, but I still don’t have much of an appetite. “I know I could file for divorce and get joint custody. He probably wouldn’t even fight it that much if it meant he could be with his whore. But he has a point in relation to the kids. I hate Curtis, and he’s been a lousy husband, but he’s a decent father, and he is putting their needs first. I have to do the same.”
“Think about this practically,” Viola says. “How the hell can you make that work knowing what you do now?”
“That’s the million-dollar question. This week has been hell,” I admit, in between drinking my wine. “I don’t think I can endure two years of pretending. I can barely look at him without wanting to stab him in the eye. I just want him gone.” I slowly chew a forkful of food.
“Please tell me you’re not still sleeping in the same bed,” Viola says.
I rub at the tightness in my chest. “We retire to bed together at night, to keep up appearances, but as soon as the kids are asleep, I move to the guest bedroom and get up before any of them wake.”
“That cheating scumbag should be the one sleeping in the guest bed. Not you.” June gnashes her teeth as she dumps more food on her plate.
“This doesn’t bother him in the slightest. He’s going around the house whistling and singing in the shower, like he doesn’t have a care in the world.” I gulp back more wine. “How can he be this callous? This cold? It’s like he has no emotion at all. He must see how much this is hurting me, but he just doesn’t care. That hurts as much as the betrayal. He has zero remorse, and he doesn’t give a fuck what this does to me. All he cares about is screwing his whores and protecting his reputation with the kids.”
“Maybe you should tell them. They’re well-adjusted kids,” Viola says. “They might handle it better than you think.” She nudges my fork, encouraging me to eat with her eyes.
I force another mouthful down. “I can’t take that risk. I won’t derail their future because their father couldn’t keep his dick in his pants.”
“I don’t think you should make any firm decisions yet,” Viola says. “Though our situations are vastly different, I remember how much my emotions seesawed during that time. You need to get a handle on things to fully understand how you feel, and only then can you decide what to do. But you do need to make a plan and start preparing for the future. You’re smart. Smart enough to outwit that slimeball. Maybe you should talk to a therapist.”
“And a divorce attorney,” June says. “I’m sure Leland would represent you if you asked him.”
“I can’t involve anyone at work. I’d prefer to keep what’s going on at home separate from my professional career, and I wouldn’t trust Greg not to say something to Curtis. While they’re not friends, they are golf buddies. I can imagine Greg patting Curtis on the back if he found out. Knowing him, he’d go out of his way to ensure Curtis screwed me over.”
“From one cheating asshole to another,” Viola says, disgust clear in her tone.
“Valid point.” June agrees. “I can get a few names in other firms. Discreetly, of course.” She arches a brow, and I nod.
“I have given it some consideration this week. It can’t hurt to talk to someone. To explore all options.”
“I can give you the number of the woman I spoke to during my divorce. She was helpful.”
“Thanks, Vi.”
“You should start documenting everything and recording your interactions with him,” June suggests. “Build an arsenal of ammunition. You never know when you might need it.”
“That’s good advice, but right now, I’m doing all I can to avoid him outside of putting on a front with the kids.”
“Whatever you decide, just know we’re here for you.” June reaches across to squeeze my hand.
“We will support you every step of the way,” Viola agrees.
A devilish glint appears in June’s eyes. “Hell, I’m even down for murder. We can chop him up together. Whatever it is you need, it’s yours.”
12
VANDER
“Who pissed in your cornflakes?” Crusher asks, holding the pads while I throw vicious jabs in rapid-fire succession. “You have been in a shitty mood all week.”
“I’ve got a lot on my mind,” I grunt, keeping my fists raised and pummeling the pads.
“Anything I can help with?” my buddy asks, and it’s timely.
“Actually, there is one thing. Want to head to TJ’s later?”
“Sure thing.” He slaps me with the pad. “You’re open. Fists up.”