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“That’s the whole damnpoint! It was meant to sit there until we really needed it. Which we do!”
He rolls his eyes. “Convenient that you need that money right when I need basketball tickets.”
“No!” I snap. “You don’tneedbasketball tickets; youwantthem. There’s a huge, huge difference. Joshneedsa new pair of shoes, but now, thanks to you, he’s not gonna get them. I get that you don’t give a shit about me—but what about your kids, Ben. Huh? What about them?”
His eyes flit around the room and his face screws up like he’s almost regretful. Then, just when I think he’s going to say something remotely helpful…
He burps.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath. “Okay,” I breathe, peeling them back open reluctantly. “This is what’s going to happen. You are gonna get a job. You’re gonna start helping me around the house and with the kids. You’re gonna startpulling your weight.”
He turns around and bends over, giving me an unwelcome eyeful of his hairy ass crack. Then he straightens back up with a beer in hand.
“Oh, great.” I applaud sarcastically. “Another beer. Glad you’ve got your priorities in order.”
He pops the cap and takes a sip.
“Ben! Did you hear me?”
He takes a long drag of his beer before looking me right in the eye. “No.”
My eyes bug out. “No? No to which part?”
“No to all of it. I don’t see the point anymore.” His lip wobbles when he speaks, but I’m long past the point of sympathy. I’m scraping the bottom of the barrel here.
“Your threechildrenare the point, Ben.”
He shrugs. “They have you.”
“Ben—”
“And I know you’re gonna do everything in your power to keep those kids.”
Why does that feel like a threat?
“So I’m going out.”
He pushes past me, taking his beer can with him. A few seconds later, I hear the door slam. Now that Ben’s taken the overpowering scent of booze with him, I smell dirty socks and moldy carpet instead.
I back out of his room, but I misjudge where the door is and hit the wall instead. I let it take me down to the ground, sliding into a knees-to-chest puddle on the floor. It smells worse at this height, but the smell is the least of my problems.
Suddenly, the contract in my purse doesn’t seem quite as radical an idea as I first thought. In fact, it’s starting to feel very much like a replacement life raft.
I’d be able to provide for the kids. And I’d get a little something for myself, too.
Maybe this is not a desperate choice.
Maybe it’s not a choice at all.
It might just be the only option I have left.
9
EMMA
Yeah, okay, I dressed up for him.
But it’s for me, too.
