Page 2 of Beauty Of Her

The white high beams of a red SUV cut my silent tantrum and pulled into the driveway. The car lurched to a stop, and the engine stuttered to a halt. First, Joel exited the car, wearing a navy-fitted Sharkskin suit, his yellow tie dangling from his white unbuttoned collar, his perfectly messed brown curly hair flying in a million perfect directions.

And then Peter pulled himself from the passenger’s side, closing the door behind him like he regretted it. He stuffed his empty hands into his pockets, not a bag of food in sight. His heather gray suit fit just as well as Joel’s, but the jacket lay rumpled across his shoulders like someone throttled Peter.

Peter and Joel hadn’t spotted me from the window yet. But I saw everything.

The way their fingertips brushed against each other’s as they walked up our red brick path. Peter sneaked a flirty ocean-blue glance at Joel as their mouths lifted into a discrete smile.

I watched it all happen. And it was in front of my fucking house. Hot, vomit-inducing anger boiled up my throat, and instead of spewing my guts all over the floor, I swallowed the sour liquid down by some miracle and stormed to the door. Yanking it open, I let the cool night air splash over my face as I charged onto the porch. The chill of it cut through me, matching the icy fury rushing in my veins.

"What the hell?" I called out, my voice biting through the night like a whip. Their laughter died immediately, and they turned to look at me, wide-eyed and blanching under the harsh glow of the yellow porch light.

"Julia," Peter started, but his voice trembled, and he faltered, unable to find words to explain what I'd just seen. Joel lagged behind and froze in his tracks.

My eyes darted to the men before me while the heat and color drained from my cheeks. As my stance crumbled, theirs united when Joel stepped next to Peter, close enough for their shoulders to touch.

“Julia,” Peter said. “We need to talk.”

I nodded, but no words left my mouth.

“You see, Joel and me. We work together.” Peter motioned between him and Joel.

Lies. Just keep lying to me, I thought.

Joel smiled, rocking on his heels, and I wanted to punch his smooth, square jaw.

“This is stupid. Let’s just go home,” said Joel, reaching for Peter’s hand, but he jerked it away.

“I want to talk to her first,” answered Peter, like I wasn’t standing a foot away from him.

“I’m here. I’m right fucking here.” I slapped my chest. “Just talk to me and stop lying.”

Peter locked eyes with mine and, without wasting a single breath, said, “I want a divorce.”

Present Day…

"Girls, we are going to be so, so late." I grabbed Zoe and Sara's not-so-little hands and pulled them across the crowded school parking lot. They didn't want to take the bus this morning to make things easier. This was the theme of my life lately: make Mom's life difficult. But it was fine. I had my daughters with me most of the time. Better with me than with that cheater.

"Mom, let go of my hand. I'm twelve." Zoe wrestled her sweaty hand free. She shifted her eyes to her twin, Sara, waiting for her to agree.

Sara lifted her dark brown eyes from my hand to my waiting face. "I don't know. I don't mind."

Zoe rolled her eyes, pivoting to the red brick building fifty feet ahead. "Ugh, fine. Let's just go." She didn't wait for me or Sara to catch up, either. Instead, her sister and I exchanged a knowing smile and followed Zoe to the school's front entrance.

“Just wait two more minutes for Dad.” My eyes darted around the parking lot, trying to spot Peter.

“Mom, come on. I’m not waiting. I’m going in,” Zoe spat.

Since the divorce, Zoe harbored a simmering anger toward the world. I tried therapy with the girls, but that didn’t work because they refused to speak. I tried everything, really. Zoe was the one who took it the hardest, whereas Sara, the younger twin by two minutes, had a heart built to forgive.

I stared at all the happy parents dropping their kids off, and it wasn’t like I envied them, especially the mothers. I just wanted to feel normal again. It had been four years since Peter and I divorced, and while we co-parented pretty well, our relationship beyond that was a struggle. I had no desire to speak to him; all Peter wanted to do was be my buddy.

“I love you, Mom,” said Sara, shaking my arm for a second before letting go and joining Zoe for the first walk-in of the school year.

“I love you too, baby.” I kissed Sara’s brunette locks and released her, swallowing the growing lump in my throat. I took a deep, calming breath as I watched them disappear into the school. Something about the first day of school always awoke my anxiety. Maybe it was the new beginning, or maybe it was the unknown. Whatever it was, I needed to shake it off and move on with my day.

I peered down at my cream blouse, spotting a coffee stain. “Crap.”

“No cursing on school grounds,” said a taunting voice I knew too well.

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