“You had no right, Vander.” All the anger flees from my tone as exhaustion sets in, seeping deep into my bones and my psyche. “I know your intentions came from a good place, but you can’t ignore my wishes and go behind my back again. This doesn’t involve you, and you need to stay out of it before you get hurt. I’m carrying the weight of so much responsibility on my shoulders right now, and I don’t want to add you to it.”
Hurt splays across his features again. “I’m a responsibility?”
“Right now, you’re a liability, and I can’t handle that on top of everything else.” I turn to go, hating how such a wonderful night turned so ugly. With my fingers curled around the door handle, I look over my shoulder at him. “Thank you for dinner. It was a nice night up until it wasn’t.” I don’t wait for his reply, opening the door and walking outside.
I’m waiting in the hall, just inside the door the following morning, ready to accost my vile husband the second he returns from his camping trip with our youngest. I barely slept a wink all night after learning what I did. Hurt still simmers in my veins, but red-hot rage is the prominent emotion consuming me, and I can’t wait to take it out on the source of my anger.
“Mom!” Ridge bursts through the door, wearing a smile and yawning. “I had the best time! It was awesome!”
“That’s great, honey.” I lean down and hug him, squeezing him close. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. Where’s Daddy?”
“He’s putting the camping gear in the garage. Then he said he had to go out.”
Over my dead body will he leave before I have said what I need to say. “I made chocolate chip cookies. They should still be warm. There’s a plate in the kitchen and a glass of milk with your name on it.” I know that’s all the incentive he needs.
“I’m starving! Thanks, Mom.” He kisses my cheek before racing down the hallway. A smile ghosts over my mouth as I watch my youngest, but it quickly fades. What is going to have to happen will upset him, and I hate that for all my kids. Fuck Curtis. This is all his fault. Wrenching the door open, I storm outside, in search of my errant husband.
“Where’d you think you’re going?” I snap as Curtis strides from the garage toward his Mercedes. He took West’s truck camping last night, but clearly that’s not good enough for his whore.
“None of your business.” He shoves past me and climbs into his car.
Pulling the photo I kept from Vander’s stash out of the back pocket of my skinny jeans, I slap it against the driver’s side window before he can take off.
His nostrils flare as he stares at the picture, but it does the trick. Killing the engine, he gets out. “Where the hell did you get that?” he snarls. No apology. No excuses. No consideration for how it must have felt to see that.
“I’m not doing this out here,” I say, glancing around. A couple of our neighbors are mowing their front lawns, and some are out walking and biking with their kids. They aren’t paying us attention yet, and I would like to keep it that way. “Your study. Now.”
I stomp back inside with his heavy footsteps following behind me.
After he steps foot in the study, I close and lock the door. I whirl around and accost him. “I agreed to this farce for the kids because I thought we decided it would derail West and Stella to discover the truth when they’re at such pivotal moments in their lives.” I shove the photo in his face. “This is not protecting our children!” I work hard to keep my voice low. It’s not easy when I want to shout and scream and slap the shit out of his remorseless face. He pushes my hand away, and I crumple the photo in my fist. “Neither is taking your whore to dinner in our fucking town where you were spotted!” Crossing my arms over my chest, I glare at him. “I’m not having West and Stella find out like this. I’m filing for divorce in the morning.”
“No.” He shakes his head. “I’m not messing up West’s chance of a college football career and potentially an NFL one.”
“You should’ve thought of that before you practically fucked your slut in public!”
“She’s not a slut or a whore. She’s actually a really nice girl.”
“Good for her. I don’t give a flying fuck.”
He smirks, and I want to grab the framed wedding photo from his desk and smash it into his smug face. “Jealousy is very unbecoming on you, Kendall.”
I flip him the middle finger, beyond enraged. “News flash, asshole. I’m not jealous. She is welcome to your disloyal ass. All I care about is protecting my children. You should want that too.” I unfurl the crumpled photo, thrusting it in his face again. “Do you think your kids would want anything to do with you if they saw that?”
Fear flashes across his face for an instant before he hides it. “You wouldn’t hurt them like that.”
Arrogant jerk. The truth is, I will never show my kids those photos. It would devastate them, but Curtis doesn’t need to know that. “I will hurt them if it’s for their own good. I won’t have you make a fool of me or them by flaunting your current fuck buddy around town in front of everyone.” I prod my finger in his chest. “This is how it’s going to go down. We’ll keep up this charade for Thanksgiving and West’s birthday, and then we’ll tell them we are divorcing. You can move out the morning after West’s party.”
He barks out a laugh. “You don’t get to call the shots, and I’m not leaving my kids.”
Has he always been this stupid, or is this development new? “You’re the one who wanted to wait to divorce. I agreed because I thought we were on the same page. This is not acceptable to me, and I won’t put up with it. You either do as I ask, or I’ll tell West and Stella the truth. The kids won’t want anything to do with you if they see these photos. You heard what they said.” I wave the crumpled picture in his face, knowing it will irritate him. “I have more where this came from, and I will show them to the kids if you even attempt to cross me.”
Vander was right after all—they have come in useful.
“They will hate you for life, and I won’t lift a damn finger to change their minds,” I add.
“You agreed divorcing now would derail their futures, so how is showing them those photos any different?” he yells. “Let’s just stick to our agreement. I’ll be discreet. I won’t go out in town. They won’t find out.”
Unbelievable. He won’t even end it for his kids. I have always known Curtis was prone to selfishness, but this proves it unconditionally. I narrow my eyes to slits. “Don’t you fucking shout at me or try to feed me lies, you deceitful prick! The only person you care about is yourself. If you truly cared about protecting your kids, you would cut that slut loose.”
“This has got nothing to do with Ingrid, and I’m not ending things. It’s serious.”
His words hurt, which I’m sure was the intention. All it does is strengthen my resolve. “There’s no way I can pretend when I hate your fucking guts. I can’t even look at you, and your touch makes my skin crawl. We can’t put on a show. It won’t work. The kids will see straight through it, and that will only hurt them worse in the long run.” I have been thinking about the things June said, and she’s right. Staying with Curtis—and attempting to live a lie—will only hurt them more. I firmly believe this is the better route to take. No matter what way we do it, there will never be a right time to tell our children we are getting a divorce. “I refuse to lie to them,” I continue. “We will just get through the next week, and then we’ll tell them.”