I didn’t have to ask what had changed in the past ten seconds to make him go from groveling to accusatory. Apparently shoving divorce papers in front of someone who wasn’t in his right mind was a recipe for disaster.
“I stayed with a friend,” I said, standing and forcing myself not to be intimidated by him. My voice rose. “It’s none of your goddamn business where I stay anymore, anyway.”
“I would like to remind you that you are still my wife,” he hissed.
“In name and law only. Not by choice anymore,” I spat out at him.
“Did you fuck him, too?” he asked.
“You’re an asshole. You don’t even know where I stayed.”
“Doesn’t matter. You’re fucking stuck until I sign that shit,” he said, pointing to the papers he’d thrown on the floor.
“Bastard!” I yelled after him as he spun on his heel and headed out of the room. I picked up the papers from the floor and glanced through the parts I needed to fill out, my eyes swimming with tears. They seemed simple enough, and I grabbed a pen and filled out my portion as quickly as I could. I checked the box that said that the marriage was “irretrievably broken.” I guess that was Arizona’s term for “irreconcilable differences.” I went to the office and scanned a quick copy of the papers just in case he should find a way to destroy them. I printed the scanned copy and left it on the table with a note: “Please let me out of this marriage.”
The paperwork said that I either had to file the papers with the court and then he’d receive a summons, or he could agree and sign a paper called the “Acceptance of Service of Process.” I was hoping for the latter, but based on our conversation, I was afraid I’d need to send a summons to get him to sign.
I slid my phone out of my pocket and typed out a quick text: Went faster than expected. I’ll be back in an hour or so.
I headed to my room and packed up some clothes for a few days. Richard always worked until at least 6:00, so I’d stop by after school on Monday and get as much as I could before he got home. I grabbed my toiletries, my books for school, and my laptop, and then I glanced around my bedroom. It had been the place of some very happy memories, but it hadn’t been for a very long time. It was time to go somewhere else and make some new happy memories, and I had a feeling that I knew just the place.
My phone chirped with a reply from Jesse: You good?
Good question. I wasn’t sure if I was good, but I was still in that tense house. Once I got out of there, I had a feeling I’d be doing a lot better.
Will be, I replied, and then I finished packing and headed out without so much as a goodbye to my dear and loving husband.
CHAPTER 4
I pulled into Jesse’s driveway. His garage was open, and he was in there working without a shirt once again. He turned around when he saw my car, and I cut the engine. I couldn’t help the flutter that fired up in my belly and worked its way down between my legs.
A body that hot should be illegal. It was going to be torture living with him and knowing that I couldn’t touch. But it was a delicious torture, not like the kind of torture where someone wouldn’t let you out of a marriage just because they were trying to be manipulative.
He started toward me, and I was glad for my sunglasses covering the eyes that were staring at this beautiful creature. I took a few moments to drink him in, to stare at that sexy tattoo, to stare at the washboard that was his stomach. He paused and grabbed his shirt, and I once again felt the disappointment that accompanied him putting clothes on and covering up that fine body.
“Take it off! Take it off!” The chant in my head began.
He continued his trek toward me, and I pulled the keys out of the ignition and threw them in my purse.
“Welcome back, roomie,” he said, opening my door for me.
I smiled. “Thanks,” I said, and he offered me his hand to help me out. I took it and felt an immediate electricity crackle between the two of us.
“Need help with anything?” he asked.
I nodded toward the trunk, pulling the latch just inside the driver’s side door. “I just brought what I needed for the next few days. He was home and I didn’t want to hang around.”
He nodded. “Want to talk about it?” he asked.
“Maybe later,” I said, just wanting to enjoy my time with Jesse.
He picked up my overnight bag and my bag of school books, grunting at its weight, and I grabbed my laptop and followed him inside.
He walked through the house to the same guest room where I’d resided the night before and set my bag down. “Make yourself at home. I’ve got a few things to finish up in the garage, and then I’m yours for the night. Good?”