Page 8 of The Reality of Us
Owen spied a box of toys in the corner of the room. A plastic dump truck was perched on top. He skirted around Jessica and Sam, picking up the toy. He snagged a few plastic blocks as well, perfect for loading into the tray.
“Can I?” he asked, gesturing towards Sam and holding out his arms. He wasn’t qualified to hold Sam, but he could sit next to him while he played with a toy.
“That’d be great, thanks.” Jessica passed Sam over, and Owen readjusted his grip, hefting him closer to his body. Sam was heavier than expected. He crouched down, kneeling on the shaggy rug. “Do you like dump trucks, Sam?”
The young boy flailed his arms and said something that was clearly meant to be ‘dump truck’ but unfortunately sounded a lot like ‘dumb fuck’.
“How long will this take to process?” Jessica asked, dragging Owen’s attention away from Sam.
“Hopefully, he agrees to our terms. If not, we’ll get a date for mediation within a few weeks.”
Jessica sighed and picked up the pen he’d left next to the papers. Her eyes closed when she was done. “I really appreciate all your help,” Jessica said.
“It’s no problem.”
No one realised how much this work helped Owen, too.
Alice was painting her toenails when her phone rang.
Chris didn’t bother with a hello. “I would’ve never believed you were hiding in some shithole small town if I hadn’t seen the shots myself.”
In the online pictures from Swift’s General Store, Alice’s face was partially hidden by Owen’s strong back, but it was obviously her.
“You need to get your ass back here so we can sort out this mess.”
A glob of polish slid down the side of the bottle, and Alice wiped it away with her finger.
“Phoenix says you’re dodging his calls.”
“I wonder why. Would you like me to list all the reasons?” All their money was gone. Phoenix had been siphoning it out of their joint account for months. Alice’s hands trembled as she shoved the brush into the nail polish bottle.
“It’s not an ideal situation, but—”
“Chris!” Alice leapt off the bed, hopping awkwardly to stop her wet nails from making a mess of the carpet. She yanked the heavy, mossy green curtains completely closed. The walls pressed in on her, the air heavier without the breeze rolling through her window. She lowered her voice. “Have you seen the papers? She wasn’t the first.”
Of course, he’d have seen the papers. That was Chris’s job. Alice had known about the partying, but she’d never realised how out of control Phoenix had gotten.
“Nothing we can’t fix, doll. It’s all a big misunderstanding.”
She rubbed her hand across her face and felt the sticky nail polish smear across her forehead. Hard to misunderstand a bank statement with a zero balance or pictures of women lying next to a sleeping Phoenix. Alice took a deep breath, sucking the air all the way into her diaphragm and releasing it in a long whoosh.
She couldn’t keep living a lie.
This morning when she’d been up before the sun, she’d gone out for a jog and seen a group of men running together, their feet moving in unison as they joked and chatted with each other. By the time she got back to the hotel, store owners were greeting each other, and the local café was delivering coffee to everyone. Life was simpler here. It felt safer. She could finally breathe properly again. Maybe Alice could stay awhile, get back on her feet.
In a quiet, firm voice, she vocalised what she’d been thinking for over a year. “I want a divorce.”
“I know things have been difficult lately, but …”
Alice flopped on the bed, the springs groaning in a thoroughly unfair way, given her rigorous workout regimen. “Things aren’t difficult, Chris. They’re horrible. We don’t speak unless we have a camera pointed at us or are out in public. He spends his nights God knows where—well, I guess we all know now.” She laughed bitterly, ignoring the sting of tears behind her eyes. She wasn’t even sad about Phoenix taking his stupid curved penis elsewhere. Not one single tear was from heartbreak. How pathetic was that? Their marriage had been over six months after they’d said their vows, when she realised how cataclysmically dumb she’d been.
“Let’s give everyone a chance to cool off.” Chris’s voice was low, placating … infuriating. “Phoenix will apologise publicly. No marriage is perfect. The comeback’s always better than the original, doll. You wait. This might be the ticket to your own reality show.”
The thought of inviting even more criticism into her life made Alice woozy. She pulled her shirt away from her body and used it to fan herself.
“You guys are tied up contractually with lots of endorsements, too, so there’s plenty to think about.”
Says the man who gets fifteen percent of everything.
