Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 116231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 581(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 581(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
Pulling the door open, I step out at the same time she gets off the elevator. “Was that really necessary?” she huffs as she glares at me.
“Um, yeah, pretty much.” I walk past her to the receptionist who is just watching us, pretending not to notice the tension. I’m sure she’s seen her share of drama over the years. “Hi, we,” I motion over my shoulder at Josephine, “have an appointment at one.”
“Follow me, Mr. and Mrs. Taylor.” She pushes away from the desk and turns to walk away from us. I follow her down the hallway to the end, where we were last time. The door is open and I step in, taking in the large conference table, three chairs on one side and three chairs on the other. I walk to the last chair and pull it out and see Josephine come to the chair beside me. I wait for her to sit down before walking around to the other side of the table and pull out a chair that isn’t facing her.
“Seriously?” she snaps at me.
“I don’t know what part you don’t understand, or how many times I can say this to you for it to finally sink in.” I put my hands on my stomach. “I don’t want to be anywhere near you.” I look around the room at the white walls and think I’d rather watch paint dry than be in this room with her.
“You can’t avoid me forever,” she states, trying to get me to talk to her. So instead, I look out of the window. “You’re acting like a child.”
I exhale deeply and then put my head back and close my eyes, I only open them when I hear someone walk in. “Sorry for the wait.” The same mediator from last time comes in, a folder in his hand. He looks at us sitting across from each other and he stands there, not wanting to take sides, so he pulls a chair away from my side and sits at the head of the table. “Okay.” He opens the folder. “So we were going to come back to some things you are both looking for before going to the lawyer with your demands.” He looks up at me. “What did you come with?” he asks me first.
“Like I said in the last meeting, she can have the house and everything in it.” I look at him, not her. “It’s paid for, so there is no mortgage on it, but she has to maintain it from here on out.” My legs start to move up and down. “We share the kids fifty-fifty.” He nods his head. “And we go about figuring out how much in alimony I need to pay her. We had a prenup, so I don’t even know why we are here, to be honest. She needs to get a job.”
He writes something down on his paper and then turns to Josephine. “I don’t want a divorce,” she declares. “I think we can work through our issues.”
I snort out a little laugh before I turn my head to the side and my eyebrows raise. “Personally, I think she’s only saying this because my sister and her husband, who she cheated on me with, decided to stay together after this mess. I’m getting a divorce, even if I have to drag her to court to do it,” I tell the guy. “That isn’t even up for discussion.”
“Have you two thought about counseling?” he asks softly. “These things sometimes get resolved in that.”
“I want an open marriage,” Josephine says. I swear I feel like those cartoons that sit on the floor and rock side to side while getting dizzy and steam comes out of their ears.
“Then I suggest, when you find your next husband, you bring that up with him before getting married.” I look at her now.
“I made a mistake.” Her voice goes higher.
“For three years? A mistake is a one-time thing. You fucked up my whole family with this.” I shake my head. “Are we really going to do this again? It’s getting a bit ridiculous.” I look at the man. “But we are here, so I might as well repeat myself just so you are clear on my stance. I’m not interested in going to counseling. I’m not interested in a reconciliation. I’m not interested in anything that has to do with her besides co-parenting our children in the easiest way possible. If it has nothing to do with the children, I don’t want to talk to her, see her, or be in the same room as her.” I look at her. “It’s over and you did this, not me.” I point at her. “You.”
“I was wrong,” she says and pretends to sniffle. “We had a great marriage.”
I look at the guy, who looks like he wants to be anywhere but in here. “Is there anything else you need from me?” He looks down at his papers and avoids looking at each of us as he shakes his head. “Great, so this was fun. And a waste of money, but it is what it is. I’m assuming now my lawyer can contact hers?” He nods his head. “Have a great day.”