Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 85876 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85876 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
“He’s going to fight you.”
“I know.” And he will every step of the way, and I’m sure he’s going to put me through the wringer when it comes to visitation and everything else to do with Kingston. He will probably make it difficult for me to leave as well. “That’s why I need to make sure all my ducks are in a row before I confront him. Otherwise, I’ll be fighting an uphill battle.”
“I would offer for you to stay with Eli and me, but our place is—”
“I know,” I cut her off. The studio she and her boyfriend live in is small, and there is no way two extra people could stay there.
“But I can give you a loan if you want, you know, to help you get into a place of your own.”
Tears fill my eyes for the first time today, and I drag in a shaky breath. “Thank you.”
“You know I’m here for whatever you need.”
“I know.” I hug her back after she gets up and wraps her arms around me.
“You’ll get through this, M. You’re the strongest person I know,” she whispers, and my eyes slide closed.
I am strong, but sometimes it sucks having to be so strong.
Especially when it’s because you don’t have any other choice.
CHAPTER THREE
miranda
Standing in my bathroom, I put the final touch on my makeup while Kingston sits on the counter with his iPad, watching a video about farm animals. It’s been seven days since I found out Bowie is having an affair, and since then, I’ve gotten my job back at the salon, found a place to rent thanks to a woman named April, who happens to be the client Emma told me about. And yesterday, I got Kingston put on the waiting list at a couple of daycares, since I will be working during the day and can’t take him with me.
I’ve also avoided almost all contact with my soon-to-be ex-husband, which has been easier than it should’ve been. Then again, with him staying out late almost every night and claiming exhaustion when he is home, he’s the one who’s made it easy for me.
But try as I might, I couldn’t avoid him this evening, even though the last thing in the world I want to do is get dressed up to go with him.
Tonight, is the annual Policemen’s Ball, something I used to look forward to attending with him, because it gave me an excuse to buy a pretty new dress and get dolled up—two things I love doing. However, this year is obviously different, so I didn’t buy something new, even though I said I was going to. Instead, I put the three hundred dollars Bowie gave me in my new bank account and borrowed a dress from a friend of mine, Whinny, who is an avid pageant participant.
“You wook pretty, Mama,” Kingston says, and I look over at my sweet boy.
“Thank you, lovie.” I lean over and kiss his forehead before focusing back on my reflection in the mirror.
With my long blonde hair down in waves and my makeup darker than I would normally wear it, because Bowie hates when I wear makeup, I add a red lip as an extra “screw you,” then step back and check myself out.
I wasn’t sure about the emerald-green dress Whinny insisted I wear tonight, since my body has changed so much since having Kingston, but the silky fabric skims over my breasts that are now larger, my wider hips, and just brushes the floor, since I don’t have my heels on yet. The material is unforgiving, but I have to admit—it looks good on me.
“Mommy is going to get her shoes.” I lift Kingston off the counter and hold him on my hip as I step into the closet. “Then we’ll go downstairs. Aunt Emma should be here soon.”
“I want to stay wif you.”
“I know, love, but Mommy has to go out with Daddy. And remember, you love hanging out with Aunt Emma.” I place him on his feet so I can reach up to one of the higher shelves where my heels are. “Tomorrow, you and I will go to the park, okay?” I ask, hoping to distract him.
“I’ll get them.” Bowie’s body presses against my back, and my skin crawls as he reaches above me for the heels I was trying to get.
“Thanks.” I step away from him as he hands them to me, holding the shoes against my chest. When I turn to face him, his eyes roam over me as mine do the same to him.
The first time we met, he came into the salon for a haircut in his uniform, and I was not even a little impressed. I mean, sure, he was and still is a good-looking man, with his olive skin, dark hair, and brown eyes. But his obvious arrogance was a huge red flag, so I turned him down when he asked me out. I expected that to be the last time I saw him, but he surprised me by showing up almost daily to visit me at work, and eventually he wore me down, and I agreed to a date.