Like I said, fucking was the easy part.
It was the bullshit that came afterward that I wasn’t prepared to deal with any longer.
I moved away from her, forcing her to release me. “Leave, Chelsea. If you have something you need to talk about, text me. Don’t stop by for unannounced visits. Better yet, if you need something face to face, call the office, and Lena will set up an appointment.” I gathered her clothes off the floor and all but threw them at her. “Now get dressed and get the hell out of my house.”
Because it was my house. Not Chelsea’s. I had designed it my goddamn self. I made sure she would never be allowed to enjoy the fruits of my hard-earned labor.
Chelsea, finally realizing she couldn’t beguile me with her hands and mouth, switched the script. Tears filled her eyes as she hastily pulled her dress down over her head. She looked up at me through her thick, very fake lashes. She was a damn good actress; I’d give her that. Anyone else would have thought her heart was broken.
But I knew that was impossible. The bitch didn’t have a heart.
“I just want to make this right, Adam. I love you. You love me. We’ve built a life together. How can you throw all that away as if it means nothing?”
I laughed. I couldn’t help it. Her audaciousness was hysterical. I gripped her arm, careful not to hurt her—I didn’t abuse women; I wasn’t a monster—and walked her out of my bedroom, down the long, winding staircase, and to the front door. She sniffed dramatically the entire way, wiping tears from her eyes as if they meant something.
I reached down and picked up the high heels she had kicked off when she arrived, handed them to her, and opened the front door, maneuvering her out onto the porch.
“Aren’t you going to say something, Adam?” she demanded angrily when I wouldn’t respond.
I looked my soon to be ex-wife in the eye and thanked God that I had woken up. There was nothing genuine about her. Not her tears. Not her words. Not even her body. Everything was molded and shaped to seduce and machinate. Why had it taken me so long to see it?
Meg warned me. They all had. Why hadn’t I listened?
Suddenly I was so very tired. I couldn’t summon the energy to even be angry. “Goodbye, Chelsea,” I said and shut the door in her face before she could say anything else.
Chapter 2
Adam
I watched Chelsea from the window.
She stood there for a moment fuming, her shoes cradled to her chest. I noticed my elderly and very nosy neighbor, Mrs. Hamilton, standing in her front yard. She must have witnessed the whole thing. My throwing Chelsea out of my house would be all over the neighborhood by lunchtime.
Chelsea flicked her hair back and squared her shoulders before stomping down the driveway to her tiny red convertible parked behind my more modest black Mercedes. Our cars could be a symbol of our entire marriage. Hers flashy and showy, meant to get attention, and mine designed for safety and reliability. How did I ever think we could be compatible in the long term?
And even though she had been the one to shit all over her marriage, I still felt guilty. Because I wasn’t a completely heartless bastard. I didn’t like playing the part of the asshole. Screwing a woman and then showing her the door wasn’t my style. Even if she completely deserved it.
I saw Mrs. Hamilton call out a greeting to Chelsea, who staunchly ignored her in her haste to leave as quickly and dramatically as possible. She squealed her tires as she peeled down the quiet residential street.
I rubbed my forehead, feeling the stirrings of a headache that only Chelsea could cause. I checked my phone, groaning at the time. I quickly ran back upstairs and got dressed, grabbing my briefcase and keys as I ran out the door.
“Good morning, Adam,” Mrs. Hamilton called out as I rushed to my car.
“Good morning, Mrs. Hamilton,” I greeted her with a smile and wave.
“How are things?” she asked, her rheumy brown eyes darting in the direction Chelsea had just gone.
I gave her my most dazzling smile, the one that had gotten me my fair share of perks over the years. I ran a hand through my hair, making a mental note to get it cut. Lena complained that with my hair hanging shaggily in my face, I looked like a kid who had just graduated high school rather than the successful criminal defense attorney that I was.
“Things are great. How about you? Did you call Kyle to have him come around and clear up that brush in your backyard?”
Mrs. Hamilton waved away my comment. “I can’t have you spending your hard-earned money on my rotten tree. I’ll just wait and see if my Daniel can come over some time and cut it up for me.”Mrs. Hamilton’s son Daniel was a good-for-nothing piece of shit, and she and I both knew he barely visited or called, even now that her husband had passed away. The only time she heard from him was when he needed money. Given that he had a substantial gambling problem, I was only surprised she didn’t see him more often. I felt sorry for her, even if my sympathy would have chaffed her. I had taken it upon myself to look after her now that she lived alone.
Chelsea used to complain at how much time I spent visiting our elderly neighbor.“She’s a nasty old coot. Why bother with her? Unless she’s planning to leave you something in her will, that is,” Chelsea had said many times over the years. Chelsea’s issue with Mrs. Hamilton was that she didn’t have a penis, thus she couldn’t manipulate her. My soon-to-be-ex was depressingly predictable.
When I had noticed two of the large oak trees in Mrs. Hamilton’s yard had come down after a particularly violent storm, I had told her to call my best friend from high school who now ran his own landscaping business. I knew Kyle would never charge the old dear a damn cent, but I had slipped him a couple of Benjamins for his good Samaritan duties.
“It’s no problem, Mrs. Hamilton. Honestly. How about I call Kyle myself and have him swing by this afternoon. You should be out in your yard enjoying this beautiful weather,” I told her, unlocking my car and throwing my briefcase on the back seat. I glanced at the time again. Shit. I was going to be late.
Mrs. Hamilton smiled, her eyes were crinkling. “You’re a sweet boy, Adam. And you deserve much better than what you’ve had.” Her mouth pressed into a thin line, making her opinion of Chelsea very clear.
“Thanks, Mrs. Hamilton. That means a lot. Well, I’d better get going—”
“I hope you’re not getting back together with that woman. She’s no good for you,” Mrs. Hamilton went on. While she meant well, I usually tried to avoid her attempts at meddling. I knew that she was lonely. And bored. But I had enough people offering unwanted advice and opinions when it came to my personal life.
“There’s nothing you need to worry about, Mrs. Hamilton. I promise.” I smiled again, though it felt strained this time. “I need to get to work. But I’ll call Kyle, and he’ll swing by to let you know about clearing the trees.”I climbed into my car with a wave before she could continue her rant about Chelsea.
I broke several speed limits on my way to the office. It was a good thing I knew where all the speed traps were. I pulled into my usual parking spot in front of Jenkins, Ducate, and Wyatt Attorneys at Law with two minutes to spare.
Lena barely glanced up from her computer screen when I walked in. Her pretty face was scrunched up in a way that was very similar to the expression I made when I was frustrated. “Your nine-thirty canceled,” she called out as I walked by.