Page 31 of Succeeding Love

“Is this your way of an apology?!”

I followed her line of sight, then my stomach dropped. She was staring at the bags of presents meant for Feighlynn. She reached for the light brown designer purse gift box, but I pushed it away before she could touch it.

“Sorry, but no. These are for…. For someone else.”

Her eyes went wide, and her mouth gaped slightly. “Who?!”

‘None of your fucking business’ isn’t an appropriate response, given the circumstances, but it’s on the tip of my tongue.

“Preston left them in my trunk. They are for his mother.” It was close enough to the truth without being too incriminating for me.

“For your ex-wife?!” Arlene was still looking at me with disbelief. “You have presents for your ex-wife in your trunk?”

I narrowed my eyes at the irritating woman, slamming my trunk closed. “I have gifts for the mother of my children, yes. They’re for her birthday.”

“Don’t you think that is inappropriate?”

“How so?” I challenged.

“She’s your ex! Wouldn’t that cross boundaries that don’t need to be crossed?”

My anger was rising. It’s really none of her business, and she has some nerve in trying to shame me for having gifts for my wife in my trunk.

“I’m not arguing with you about something that is none of your business. I told you the reason, and if you don’t like it, that’s your own problem.”

She tapped her foot angrily as we waited for the elevator. The tension was so thick, but I would not be the one to break it.

We were in the elevator and almost up when she broke first. “Don’t you think you’re being disrespectful to me by keeping presents for your ex-wife in your car? Did that ever cross your mind?”

“No,” I snapped. “That woman is the mother of my children and the one whoIcheated on withyou. “No,” I snapped. “I think all the disrespect has been shown to her, and if I want to keep gifts in my car for the woman that gave meeverything and I threw away like trash, I don’t expect the reason for my disrespect to have a damn opinion on the issue.”

I left her gaping in the elevator as I walked out, heading past the receptionist to my office. I’m tired, irritable from sleepless nights and not being able to drink heavily around my kids, and from the fear of my wife moving on with that tattooed hoodlum that just moved in across the street from her. Listening to my fucking mistress bitch about gifts I got my wife is not tolerable in my current state.

I might have to move out of Arlene’s place sooner than I expected. I can’t keep up this disillusion any longer.

~

Arlene

“That woman is the mother of my children and the one whoIcheated on withyou. I believe I have shown all the disrespect to her, and if I want to keep gifts in my car for the woman who gave me everything and whom I threw away like trash, I don’t expect the reason for my disrespect to have a damn opinion on the issue.”

The chill in the air was sucked into my lungs when he snapped at me. My blood ran cold. He said so much with that one statement. The woman that gave him everything was the one those gifts were for, and it’s not me. He just told me I was the reason he lost her, too.

I can’t cry. Not at work. I just stared in shock as Nick walked out of the elevator and towards his office. The receptionist stared after him, then looked at me curiously. I quickly got control of my face when she turned away from me, unable to meet my eyes. I don’t know what my expression looked like, but it surely must be horrendous for her to look so nervous.

I stomped towards my office, ignoring Nick’s as I strode past. Not that he would have noticed, anyway. I walked by him a dozen times today, and he never looked up at me once.

That bag alone would have had to be at least a few thousand dollars. Nick had several bags from stores just as expensive, too. His son doesn’t have the money to buy Feighlynn gifts that are expensive. That means it was Nick who bought them. He couldn’t even text me or call me the entire weekend, but he was out buying thousands of dollars’ worth of presents for his ex-wife?

He has some fucking nerve. He’s still living in my apartment. It’s he who left her for me. I did not make him. He thinks I’m just going to accept this kind of treatment, allowing for him to still treat me like the other woman?

“Maybe I’ve been too passive,” I murmured to myself as I sank down in my chair. I opened the top drawer of my desk, pulling out my old wedding band. I told myself after the disaster of my first marriage that I would never submit to a man again, and here I am, agonizing over a guy who hasn’t done a damn thing for me in too damn long.

I think Nick needs an ultimatum. I will not be his weekday convenience as he goes off every weekend and continues to play house with his kids without me. I deserve respect, too.

Déjà Vu

Nick

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