Page 46 of His Vengeful Tradwife

I should have been prepping the kids for weeks.

I didn't believe in staying together for the kids.

It would be hard. But it would be better that they have a happy mother.

But would it make me happy to divorce him?

My father-in-law had gone to get security to release Maverick from jail and there was no one around but my husband and me.

He was sorry, that was obvious.

He was sorry, he was beaten, he was desperate to have me back.

I hadwonall that. But it wasn't enough.

"I need something more than you being sorry," I said. "You claim you felt insecure because of how much money I make."

My big husband swallowed but he still met my eyes. "It's embarrassing," Maverick said, a slight flush on his cheek bones. "To think I let something like that come between us."

"Well, you have to prove it," I said. "Those are my conditions. For your entire life you've beentheMaverick Laurent. Bigger than everyone else, richer than everyone else, smarter and more successful than everyone else. You have to prove you are OK with the fact that I am going to outearn and outpower you."

"I am," he assured me, clutching my legs tighter. "I promise I am."

"If you want another chance, I need somethingconcretefrom you," I said. "Something to prove that you aren't going to do this exact shit again if you don't get enough attention. For months you missed time with the kids and me. Why should I trust you again?"

Maverick raised his head from my shoe. "Anything you want, Tallulah. I'll do anything."

His eyes looked red-rimmed and shiny, his big arms still clutching me tightly, the marks of my buckle imprinted on his face.

"You and my mother have been quietly sneering at my job for years, haven't you?"

"No, God, I get it now, baby. I get it."

"If you want a second chance, you've got to prove it. I need an assistant. It's hard work and it's unpaid, and it's not glamorous."

He opened his mouth to agree, but I wasn't done.

"I'm not an idiot. I know you hate the chickens I love. This is something I'mgoodat, Maverick. Right now I've gotten 20 million followers who watch me collecting eggs, churning butter, baking bread, and weeding the garden. It's a dream of mine to get to 40 million followers. With that kind of money, I could upgrade my dad and stepmom into a new house, make sure the kids have enough money to go to college without debt if they want. I could--"

"I'll do it," Maverick interrupted. "I'll get you to 40 million viewers. Before school starts for the kids."

I considered this. That was over 20 million viewers in a little more than a month! It would double my current amount of followers, and likely more than double the amount of money I was bringing in, making the gap in our incomes even bigger.

It would flip the expected gender roles even further, and could make what he had struggled with even worse. Buthewas the one who had suggested it.

Was I doing the right thing?

Why keep Maverick at all? Why stay married?

Because I wanted to

I shook myself. Did I want Maverick to fail or succeed at his task?

But my mouth was already forming my response.

"Deal," I said.

We parted from the Drs. Laurent with plans to make another trip together next year.

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