Page 5 of Against All Odds

“I know this is a shock for you, but this is how things stand,” Jack continued like he had the upper hand ‘cause he’d had it for all of our time together. I’d been so fucking grateful when he paid attention to me and asked me out all those years ago at the bank where I worked. I’d been so happy when he asked me to marry him. My life, I knew, was never going to be trailer park trash ever again. That much had been and was still true.

“Okay,” I said because he was looking at me expectantly.

Most women would have more of a response than the one I was having for their husband announcing that he had impregnated another woman. But what could I say? I mean, what was done was done, right?

But the hardest part of this was knowing that I couldn’t get pregnant, but another woman had by him—another woman who was fifteen years younger than me.

Molly was beautiful, blonde, cute, andfertile.

We’d tried to have a baby for four years—went through IVFs and miscarriages; it had been hell. When I turned thirty-eight, I told Jack that I was done. He had wanted to continue, but my body was beaten. Emotionally, I felt exhausted from living through the cycle of despair that matched my menstrual one. Also, I was getting older, and I didn’t want to have a baby in my forties.

“Sable, things are going to change,” Jack remarked.

No shit, Sherlock.

“Congratulations on the baby.” I pasted a smile on my face. I mean, what the hell else was there to say?

He gaped at me. This man I’d loved and married. This man I’d taken care of—he’d come home and told me that he was going to be a father with another woman. I knew he was thrilled about it. He’d probably started screwing around on me after I stopped trying to get pregnant. That was two years ago.

“I’m really sorry, Sable. I…we didn’t plan this and?—”

“I know.” I was full of compassion, but, in allhonesty, I just didn’t want to hear his excuses because they’d be lame, and I didn’t need to listen to that garbage. “I’m assuming you’ll file for divorce, or should I?”

He looked at me like I’d grown a second head.

I wish I could record this because this wasn’t what Jack expected. He thought I’d cry and be upset. He thought I’d beg him to stay. I knew him well, so I knew what he thought. But Jack hadn’t bothered to get to know his wife, that much I knew; otherwise, he’d have known that once he screwed around on me, and I knew about it, there was no marriage.

He swallowed nervously, suddenly unsure because the scene wasn’t unraveling the way he’d thought it would, the way he wanted it to.

“You should’ve expected this,” he growled.

Man, he turned that nervous energy around to playing an asshole.

“Molly is exciting, and things between us have been stale,” he continued. “You agree with that, don’t you?”

I only smiled at him, feeling more and more relaxed with where this was going. Jack was one of those people who couldn’t stand silence and would fill it, and in his confusion over my reaction to his news, he was going a little off the rails. It was immensely satisfying.

“I mean, when was the last time we fucked?” he barked.

Nine months ago. It was Christmas break. Jack and I hadholidayand weekend sex.

“Since we’ve always had separate bank accounts, thefinance part should be easy to split,” I pretended he hadn’t spoken.

He wanted us to have separate accounts—it was his way of letting me know that he had money, not me. We had a joint account for home expenses. We’d always paid fifty-fifty, even though he made twice as much as I did as a bank teller—except for the house; he’d paid the downpayment, though we split the mortgage.

“Molly is sexy as hell. You can’t have children, Sable, and that was the last straw."

Buddy, I get it ‘cause this is my last straw. I was a good wife, a great partner, always there for you, and you just kicked me in my teeth.

“We should sell the house and divide whatever we make on it,” I suggested.

It was as if we were having two different conversations. He was still explaining himself, and I was moving on to separation logistics.

“I don’t want to sell the house. Molly wants to move in.”

“Really?” Now, that was surprising. I wanted to ask, “She also wants to sleep on the same bed where you and I fucked?”But I wouldn’t. I didn’t have that kind of petty in me. Also, I needed him gone before my false bravado, that I was okay with my marriage dissolving so ignominiously, slipped.

“And I contributed more for the house,” Jack’s voice rose, “so I should get to keep it.”

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