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“Paige.” Foster’s voice is smooth like silk.
“Why, Foster?”
“Why what, my love?”
“Stop calling me that! Why did you pay for my apartment and give me the money in the contract?”
“You did your part. And as for calling you my love, you are. I miss you.” Foster’s voice changes, barely hiding the edge of torture, and it makes me sick to think I am the cause. But he knows why we aren’t together.
“We talked about this and agreed that a divorce is best for us,” I reiterate, as I have done before.
“It’s not. You’re my other half.”
“You say that now. I still want the Foster who I went to Turks and Caicos with.”
“I’m him. I haven’t changed.”
“You can’t do this to me. I need this to be over. I thought you were sending the divorce papers to me?”
“I don’t want a divorce,” he retorts.
I wipe away a stray tear, my voice warbling. “I do. We can’t salvage our marriage.”
“You gave up on me. You never gave me a second chance.”
“That’s the problem, I gave you second, third, and so on chances! You blew them all. I wish you luck with everything.” I hang up before he can answer. Before I could break down, which is what I do after I cut him off.
I don’t hear from Foster for a week, but when I receive the divorce papers, it is obvious he got the message. I ponder when and how to tell my family about my fake marriage, but if anything, I will make them swear secrecy. Foster has enough issues without Mason finding out about our fraud.
I sign the divorce papers and send them back. I should’ve had an attorney look them over, but from what I read, it is pretty straight forward. The marriage will dissolve, and we will each retain whatever we came into union with. Foster was more than generous even though our marriage did not last the eighteen months, as stated in the contract.
I now have an apartment with only maintenance and utilities to worry about. My bank account has three-quarters of a million dollars, and I had a good job with benefits working for Zane. However, none of these make my broken heart any easier to handle. I hide my feelings from my family until that next Friday, when I am invited over to my brother’s apartment for dinner. I’ve made my decision to reveal the truth then.
Zane and Lana have just put Wade and Charles down for the night when I arrive, and I am relieved because I need to get everything out. It has been over a year and a half since Foster came to me with the crazy idea of the marriage arrangement. Yet, as crazy as it was at the time, I can’t believe I agreed to get myself out of debt without considering the consequences.
Lana hugs me, and I almost lose it right there.
“Can we hold off on dinner for a little while?” I ask.
“What’s up, sis?” Zane calls from the kitchen.
“I have something to tell you, and I have a feeling you won’t be interested in food after I say my piece.”
Zane has his beer bottle halfway to his mouth but stops to place it on the granite in front of him. “I don’t like the sound of that. What happened?”
“Can we sit down in the living room?”
“You’re scaring me,” Lana says.
I sink to the sofa, staring at the floor. “I want to start by saying I’m sorry.”
Zane sits next to me and puts his arm around my shoulder. In any other circumstances, I would appreciate the gesture, but I shrug it off, and he pulls it away.
“What are you sorry for?” Zane asks.
I sigh. “My marriage to Foster wasn’t what you think.”
“And what would that be?” Zane raises his voice.
