Page 7 of Marrying Off My Husband

“Never mind. I’ll take this one and the red one…and the green one.”

She smiled as she gathered the haul into her arms while I stepped back into the dressing room to change. What I really needed was a new woman for Spencer.

Last night, I’d demanded he start dating. This morning, he’d suggested we help each other find new partners.

“Oh, Spence,” I murmured as I shimmied into my own dress.

I didn’t want help finding love–I was already weaving my own complicated web of affection.

Stop thinking bad things about me, I didnotcheat on Spencer. But I had someone special, someone who knew my situation and was happily willing to wait until I was divorced before we moved forward with anything.

I hadn’t told Spencer about him. I didn’t want to hurt his delicate feelings. And no, I’m not saying Spencer’s feelings aretoodelicate.

They’re perfect.

He was a sweet man who deserved more happiness than life had handed him so far. He deserved a woman as exceptional as he was. But finding her was another matter entirely. I’d struck out on every front, so far.

I slid into my heels and emerged from the dressing room, tossing the gold dress at the sales associate as I rounded the counter and pulled out my black card.

I expected the spending of money to lift my mood, but as I stepped out of the store, sliding on my oversized sunglasses and letting the bag dangle from my fingertips, I felt no better.

Maybe a purse would do the trick.

The sidewalk buzzed with the midday rush as I made my way past chic storefronts and street-side cafes, their patrons basking under the warm sun. My phone jangled, a sharp note against the hum of life, pulling me back from my thoughts.

I stopped, digging in my purse for it. Was it Spencer calling to tell me he’d found the love of my life? I hoped not.

I glanced at the display, my stomach twisting into a tight knot as I read the caller ID. “Oh, lord.”

With a click of my tongue, I paused, my thumb hovered over the end call button. I rolled my eyes. It would be worse if I didn’t take the call.

Reluctantly, with my nose crinkled, I swiped to accept the call. “Hello, Mama.”

“Lou-Lou, finally picked up the phone, have we? I was beginning to wonder if you were dead in a ditch.”

I slid my eyes closed at the veiled insult. I forced politeness into my voice. “I’ve been busy, Mama. What did you need?”

“Busy? With what? Shopping? Partying? Are you dragging that husband of yours around to all the social outings? It’s embarrassing, Louise, really.”

I swallowed hard, pressing my lips together as I composed myself though my insides churned. “Spencer and I are–”

“A fraud,” my mother interrupted. “A ruse used to steal that money. Money that I could have used to live on, Lou-Lou.”

“Money that wasn’t yours, Mama. Daddy left it to me.”

“In care of your loving mama. And I did everything I could, Louise, to take care of you. But you’re just so…difficult. Well, I’m sure your husband is discovering that now.”

My teeth hurt as it gritted them at the words. My mama had always described me as difficult…and worse. “I didn’t deserve what you did, Mama.”

“You are not well, Louise. You make poor decisions. In so many ways, you’re still that little girl you were when your Daddy died. You need supervision.”

“And you need money,” I shot back, heat in my voice. “You aren’t getting mine. Not anymore, Mama.”

“Now, Louise, let’s not end on a sour note. I need your presence here.”

I chewed my lower lip, frustrated with myself as much as her. Why was I continuing to listen to her? “For what?”

“We need to discuss the future. Mine and yours. Shall we say over the next weekend?”

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