Page 45 of James

“He’s not here,” I say back in a none too friendly tone.

“I’ll wait,” she says in a snooty tone.

“And you are?” I demand.

“I’m Mrs. Steele. James’ wife. Who are you?” she asks with an evil smile. My heart stops. No. There's no way.

“Bullshit,” I scoff, calling her bluff. She pulls a document out of her handbag and hands it over to me. A licence certificate. It looks legitimate, but what do I know about forged documents?

“What do you want?” I ask her warily.

“I want my husband, of course,” she says.

I practically growl and slam the door shut in her face. My phone rings again and I answer.

“Sasha, I’m almost home. I can explain,” James says the second I answer. He sounds nervous. A bad feeling takes over.

“Are you married to her? Yes or no,” I tell him.

“It’s complicated-”

“Yes or no, James!” I yell.

“Yes, but-”

I hang up.

James Steele is married.

The love of my life is married. Great, now I’m a fucking adulteress. How could he do this to me? To Jye? To us? I try my hardest to shut my mind off. I need the numbness right now. I call my mother and ask her if she can keep Jye for another night, she says it’s no problem at all. I’m grateful. I don’t want Jye to see me break. To see me weak. Because right now I’m barely holding it together.

I walk outside the front door to find that bitch parked across the road in her rental car. She smiles when she sees me. She smiles. I generally don’t get into fights anymore. As a mother, I want to set an example for my kid. I want to lead by example. So, I tone down my crazy. Right this very second, though, all those thoughts are out the window.

I walk right up to her car and take out the house key, dangling it in front of her. She warily puts her window down, and I put my hand in and offer her the key. She smirks and takes it. As soon as the key is in her hand, I grab the back of her head and hit it into the steering wheel. Once, twice. Thrice for good measure. Then I walk off, get into my car and drive off.

***

James

There's an unfamiliar car parked in my driveway, and Sasha’s car is gone. I seriously don’t like where this is going. I open the front door and head to my bedroom, when I hear the television on in there. The sight before me makes me see red. Nancy has made herself at home, in Sasha’s and my bedroom.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I demand through clenched teeth. I push my sleeves up to my elbows, the movements jerky with restrained anger. She looks up from where she is lying on our bed. Lying on our.fucking.bed.

“Nancy, get in the kitchen, now!” I yell.

She gets up and saunters into the kitchen, like she doesn’t have a care in the world. This woman is fucking insane. Bat-shit crazy. There is no other explanation for it. I follow her into the kitchen, pinching the bridge of my nose with my fingers. Boy, do I have some grovelling to do.

“Why did you come here?” I start with.

She shrugs. The motion infuriates me. “You said you wanted a divorce. I wanted to come and see why. Maybe we could work things out?” she asks, running her tongue over her lips. Instead of turning me on, my dick shrivels up even further, if that's possible. I slept with this woman once, and I’m sure as fuck never going there again.

“What do you want?” I ask her frankly. I’m not stupid. The bitch is here for something.

“I want some money,” she admits, glancing around and looking at my large house and nice possessions. I can almost see the dollar signs in her eyes.

“What happened to your forehead?” I ask. It’s red and puffy.

She scowls. “Slight altercation.”

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