Page 83 of Blindside Love

But then I remember what Trevor told me. How he believed in me, how he knew how strong I was.

If he can believe in me, so can I.

As the cab pulls up to the curb, I take a deep breath, pay my fare, and step out onto the street. It’s time to get my fucking life back.

I walk into the restaurant, smiling at the hostess as I walk back, heading back to the booth I reserved. Tom’s already waiting, his annoyed look firmly in place as he stares down at his phone, a glass of scotch in his other hand. When I sit across from him, he looks up.

“Well, hello, Eleanor. Don’t you look… nice,” he sneers. I know he’s lying because I specifically picked out this outfit to irritate him. Why my clothes have such an impact on his life, I’ll never know. But being the petty bitch I know I am, I wore the overalls he despises and space buns because he always said I looked ridiculous with them. I’m also wearing my Converse just to twist the knife a bit more.

“No need for fake pleasantries, Tom. We both know you hate the way I look,” I say, pouring myself a glass of wine. A very full glass of wine.

“Then I guess we should just cut to the chase. I need something from you, and you need me to not ruin your life. I see you took me seriously, though, breaking things off with your little boyfriend.”

“This doesn’t involve him, it never has, and it never will. Leave him out of it.” I clench my teeth, wanting nothing more than to throw something at him, but I can’t do anything until he talks. “Unless you want to finally talk about Lena.”

“What about her? We’ve been over this. It was nothing. Just stress relief during the day with a very willing participant.”

“So, fooling around with Lena daily, while married to me, wasn’t cheating because it was stress relief?” I mutter, doing my best not to scream just yet.

“See, you’re starting to get it,” Tom says, leaning forward, his arms on the table. “It never needed to be the big deal you made it out to be.

“So, what do you need from me?” I ask, hoping I’ve let him talk enough that he’s let his guard down a bit and will shoot himself in the foot.

“I need you to take the blame. I need you to say that you cheated, that you left me heartbroken,” Tom says, taking a sip of his scotch as he looks down at his phone, barely paying attention to me.

“Remind me again why I would do this for you.”

“Because I have control over the one thing you care about. Addison. I’ll sign over my rights. We both know I never wanted to be a father anyway. I’ll just blame it on her, that she only wanted to be with her mother and that I wanted to make her happy and all that bullshit. But you have to give me what I need first.”

I grab my wine again, taking a very, very large swallow, watching as Tom looks back at his phone, probably texting some woman, thinking this conversation will be over soon. It will be, but not in the way he’s thinking.

“No,” I say, sitting up tall, remembering to breathe, and reminding myself over and over to believe in myself as much as Trevor did.

Tom looks up, confusion and shock written across his face like he can’t quite believe what he just heard.

“Eleanor, think about this.”

“I already have. The answer is no. If you want our daughter, take me to court. Either way, sign the divorce papers, and let’s get on with this. I’m done with your games. I’ve already turned everything over to my lawyers; they have all of the true evidence and they confirmed their authenticity. They’ll be passing it along to our parents, helping them get the full picture of what actually happened in our marriage and your lack of parenting.”

“Why can’t you just do this one thing for me, Eleanor? After everything I’ve done for you?—”

I snap. “Everything you’ve done for me? Buddy, let’s get one thing straight here: the only thing you’ve done for me is give me a migraine. You forced me to be this picture-perfect trophy wife who couldn’t work, couldn’t follow her own dreams, all because you deemed yours more important than mine.”

“That isn’t true,” Tom sneers.

“Oh, but isn’t it? I quit my job because you said no wife of yours would work since it would make people think you weren’t providing well enough for our family on your own. You wouldn’t let me pursue my dreams because it would take time away from me being at your beck and call when I wasn’t solely raising our daughter because you chose not to give two shits about her while you worked your life away and stuck your dick in anything with a pulse that wasn’t your wife. I wonder if they all had to fake their orgasms like I had to for six years.”

“Fuck you, you vindictive little bit?—”

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence as Trevor comes around the corner, his fist slamming directly into Tom’s nose.

“What the fuck!” Tom shouts as blood pours out of his nose, but Trevor grabs him by his shirt collar and slams him against the wall, splattering blood on the nice white walls.

“If you fucking ever, and I mean ever, speak about either of my girls like that again, you’ll be waking up in a hospital in a body cast wishing I’d have killed you instead,” Trevor growls, nearly face to face with Tom who looks like he’s about to poop his pants from fear.

“That sounds like a threat,” Tom sneers, but our fathers take that moment to step out of their booth. His eyes widen in shock, but he covers it quickly, working hard on playing the pity card. “Did you hear what he said to me? “

“No, actually, son, I didn’t,” Carl says, his teeth clenched as he stands there, his feet spread and his hands in his pockets. You can’t deny that Carl is a big man, and right now, he’s a very pissed-off man. “I was too concerned with everything I heard prior to what Mr. Adams here said to you. In fact, if we’re being honest, I was wondering if I should fire you first or punch you for disrespecting a woman like that. Either way, I’m glad he did it so I didn’t have to.”

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