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“I’m glad you are,” I whisper against her forehead.
The door of my office swings open without so much as a knock and just when I’m about to reprimand whoever thought they could just barge in here unannounced, I’m met with the very angry eyes of my hopefully soon to be ex-wife. “I am absolutely not signing this.” Holly stares down at me, her green eyes full of fury as she waves the divorce summons I had served to her this morning. I knew this wasn’t going to be easy.
In the state of Pennsylvania, if she doesn’t consent to a divorce, we are required to stay married and live apart for one year before I can be granted one. My lawyer didn’t think the fact that she makes my life miserable was necessarily enough for a fault- based divorce that wouldn’t require us to stay married for a year. So, I need Holly to cooperate, and I know she isn’t going to.
“This is not the time or place for this conversation and I don’t appreciate you just showing up here unannounced.” I pull my gaze away from my computer and turn towards her. “What do you want? More money? This already gives you half and monthly alimony payments. That is more than fair.”
“That is not half,” she says pointing at it and I can’t believe whatever I fucking saw in this woman. I’d do anything to go back in time and do everything differently.
“My statements are provided. It’s half, Holly,” I tell her. I want to be done with this marriage so I already resigned myself to the fact that I’m going to be giving her a pretty significant amount of money. There is no point trying to get around it or lowball her. Holly is going to take me for everything she can and I’m at the point where I’m not going to fight her. I’m exhausted and I want to be free of all the bullshit I’ve dealt with over the past six years. “What, are you going to keep me in this marriage against my will? I want out, Holly. We aren’t in love. We aren’t happy. I made the stupid fucking mistake of not making you sign a prenuptial agreement, so fine, you get half, but I am not staying married to you.”
“You cheated on me. Multiple times.”
“A fact that my lawyer has been made aware of.” It’s also why we offered alimony payments that are higher than standard.
“How can you do this? I’ve given you six years. You wouldn’t even give me a baby—”
“Because bringing a baby into this dysfunctional marriage would have been the worst idea. Are you kidding me? Holly, you don’t love me. You’ve said it on numerous occasions. You love the idea of me and what I do for your socio-economic status, but you don’t love me.”
I turn back to my computer, hoping she gets the picture that I am done with this conversation just as there’s a knock on the door. My heart momentarily stops. While I assume it’s my assistant, I can’t be completely sure and I haven’t had a chance to text Marissa to tell her to avoid my office. Holly hasn’t been here in months so there hasn’t been a chance for them to run into each other and I really fucking hope this isn’t about to be the first time. Marissa’s desk is on the other side of the floor and my hope is that she stays there for the foreseeable future.
“Come in,” I call out, and I try to hide the worry from my voice just as my assistant, Christine, comes in with a cup of coffee that I assume is for Holly. I notice immediately that it’s from the coffee shop down the street and I’m even more irritated that she’s managed to send my assistant on a fucking errand. That means she’s been here longer than I thought.
Fucking hell. Could she have already run into Marissa?
I pull up my text messages with Marissa and I hate myself for what I’m about to send.
Me: Please avoid my office. Stay at your desk if you can, please.
I dart my eyes up just as I see Holly taking a sip of her coffee.
Christine tries her best to smile. “Is there anything else I can get for you?”
I am very aware of how Christine feels about Holly so I know she’s trying her hardest to be polite.
“Oh, this is cold,” Holly says as she attempts to hand the cup back to her. “I’d like it warmer, please.”
“It’s fine,” I grit out. “You can warm it up at home.”
She looks at Christine, her arm still held out and I shake my head. “Christine, you can go. Thank you.” She nods at me, giving me a small smile before she scurries out of the room and closes the door behind her.
“So, I can’t even get a hot cup of coffee?”
“It could have been hot if you didn’t send her two blocks away to get it,” I snap.
Holly is smart enough to ask her before she entered my office or I would have told Christine she absolutely did not have to do that.
She waves a hand dismissively. “It’s her job, Chris.”
“No, her job is not to leave the premises to get you goddamned coffee.”
“We are getting off-topic,” she says slamming the papers down on my desk. “Not. Signing. This.” She taps a finger against the manilla folder with each word before crossing her arms over her chest. “This is all about your newest mistress? You’re that obsessed with what’s between her legs that you’re willing to just blow up your entire life? If you think I’m going to go quietly, I’d think again.” She picks at her nail beds as if the conversation is starting to bore her before her eyes flit up to me. “Marissa, right?” I’ve never been so grateful for a soundproof office because I am sure this is about to get ugly. Anger flashes in my veins and I ball my hands into fists under my desk in an attempt to temper the fury. She pulls her phone out and looks up at me with a raised eyebrow and a smug smile on her red lips. “A little young for you don’t you think?” She drags her finger across the screen and turns it to show me a picture of Marissa from her social media. I am very well versed in all the pictures on her Instagram, having scrolled through it several hundred times.
Fuck. How did she find out about her? Is she having me followed? She doesn’t have access to my phone or any of my communications and even if she were to have somehow hacked into my email, Marissa and I have never communicated that way in any way that wasn’t professional.
“So, can I meet her? According to my sources, she works for Beckham Securities.” She blinks several times. “Tell me, is Wes helping you hide your little trysts? I’m surprised she went for you and not him, if I’m being honest.” Even though I know Marissa wants to be with me, jealousy floats through me that she may have been interested in Beck had it not been for our history. “Or wait…are you sharing her?” She presses a hand to her chest as if in shock.
“Stop.” I grit out. The thought of anyone but me touching Marissa makes me irate. “What do you want, Holly?” I ask, refusing to confirm or deny anything.
