Page 21 of Trading Up
Ready for our #firstfamilyvacation!
T W E N T Y – O N E: Falling Apart
Will’s POV
There was something wrong. I was supposed to be happy forever with Paloma. Things have only continued to go downhill with her. She’s not acting as loving anymore, she asked me to hire a nanny too, so she can get back to doing things she enjoys. That was two months ago, after I watched as Devereaux the Dick announced his engagement to my ex-wife in a restaurant full of people, the same night I proposed to Paloma. She told me I needed to do it again, and better. She demanded a photographer so we could have photos done right afterwards, and we could put them all over social media.
After a proposal to her standards, she started planning the wedding, while I took more money and invested it. I needed to make more money because she was burning through what I’d gotten in the divorce. She was talking about renting out a castle in Scotland or a chateau in France. I had no idea where she was getting these wild ideas, but I wasn’t paying for that. Cece was the only bright spot in my life at the moment. That, and the social media posts I would see from Sarah’s account.
I added the secret, fake account I made back in college to test her, to see if she was really loyal to me, to all of my social media apps on my phone, weeks ago. I made sure that Sarah was still added so I could see what she was up to. Like some creepy fucking stalker. She was never this dramatic or jealous. She would also make sure to take care of the kids herself. She didn’t spend hours and hours outside of the house like Paloma is doing. I started becoming Cece’s primary parent.
It was a Saturday, and Paloma apparently needed to go wedding dress shopping with a mob of very opinionated women. Who was I to tell her that sounded like a bad idea? She was goingto be gone all day, and that meant Cece and I could just hang out, have some father-daughter time. She was napping whileI was cleaning up, something that I had to do because I was trying to cut costs, and Paloma said it would ruin her nails. I dried my hands after doing the dishes, started a load of laundry, and sat down to look at the secret account.
I pulled up Sarah’s account and about had a heart attack. The most recent photo was of luggage by a door. I assumed it was her front door. There were four suitcases, and I prayed that it was just extra shit she was packing for the boys, but something in my gut told me I was wrong, and I wasn’t going to like whatever she posted after that. The hashtag on the photo told me I was wrong.
She was going on a family trip?!
How could she do this to me?!
The thoughts plagued me because I know the answer to both of these questions. He had money, and he was a good guy. The one question I couldn’t seem to answer was why she seemed happier with him. What was so good about him anyway? His money? I hated that I checked my social media obsessively after Paloma was in bed every night that week. With no new posts, I thought maybe they decided not to go. I was about to give up, pissed at all of the sleep she made me lose by worrying about her. I was just about to close out of a chat with another girl when I clicked the little home button on the app.
There it was. Front and center, photos, five of them. One of them getting off the plane, at dinner, walking on the beach, building sand castles, and a little video of them walking on a pier, eating ice cream. I don’t know what came over me, but I saved them to my phone. I made a folder for her photos and stored them in there.
Hidden. Tucked away.
The next night, there were photos of them swimming, a few of Sarah laying on a lounge chair by the pool. And she looked amazing! I saved those ones, too. I saved all the photos and videos I could. The only ones I didn’t save were the ones where Devereaux was in them. I didn’t want to see him playing happy family with my wife and kids. In a way, it felt like nothing had changed, and I had them back. Like I hadn’t fucked up my whole life. I hated seeing her with him. Seeing how happy they were together. Seeing them holding hands.
It made me sick. The first time I saw them together, the night we all got engaged, I threw up in the bathroom. Multiple times. I didn’t know why I was having such a visceral reaction to her moving on. It was like my mind and body were rejecting the idea that she could ever be with someone else and find happiness. I was her happily ever after. I was the one she was supposed to spend forever with. How could she move on so quickly? Did I mean nothing to her?
That night, after Paloma came home, she cooked dinner. Something she hadn’t done in weeks. I was happy to let her cook while I hung out in my office with Cece. After dinner, I put Cece to bed and then headed back to my office for a nightcap. I had been in there, going over a few of the projects at work that needed my attention, and then, when I was sure it was late enough that she was asleep, I pulled up my secret socials again.
I finished off my glass, feeling more drunk than I normally would. I shake the feeling off, bringing her IG up. There are photos of them together. They look professional. Everything feels a little fuzzy as I try to blink my eyes back into focus. The boys are holding up a sign that says something. I can’t focus my eyes to read it.
My face fell to my desk, as blackness tried to overtake my vision. A moment later, the door creaked open. More black began to invade my vision. I could feel my consciousnessslipping from me like grains of sand. I was passing out when I heard a voice.
The only other voice it could have been in that house.
“I knew you were hiding something from me, William.”
T W E N T Y–T W O: Family
Sarah’s POV
Our trip was fantastic. The boys decided they wanted to get big pictures made of the day they called Row ‘Dad’ for the first time. They promised to wait until vacation, and they asked me to keep it a secret. It was the hardest thing I’d ever had to do, but I did let him know we had something special planned, and he needed to pack some nice shorts and a polo or button-down shirt for it. I told him it was a surprise for the vacation that the boys wanted me to help them plan. He always had to dress up for things with them, and it could be something as average as going to the museum, but the boys liked looking their best.
“Men are always looking dapper for the ladies,” Carter quoted Row one time, and Row would not stop beaming for weeks. He had his chest puffed out like the proud uncle he was. We tried our best to play it off as normal. We were on the beach, the two photographers ready to capture the moments. We took a few posed photos and then a couple of me walking away, holding the kids' hands. When the photographer shouted “Good to go, cheerio” and gave a thumbs up, the code Carter had come up with, he beamed up at me. I nodded to him.
“Dad!” he shouted, as we watched Devereaux. He froze, then looked around, like it was someone else calling for his daddy. Carter looked at me, worried, squeezing my hand tighter; Mave shouted for his daddy with the biggest smile on his little face, and I looked at Row. His face had a look of pure shock, and before I knew it, he was walking, then running to us, arms open wide. The boys took off out of my hands, shouting over and over…
“Dad! Daddy!” As they ran to him. I smiled, tears running down my face as he ran to and scooped them up,swinging them around and smiling at our boys. I slowly walked up as he set them down, kneeling in front of them.
“We’re a family. A team. We look out for each other forever, alright?” He put his hand in like he was finishing up a team huddle. I put my hand on his, and the boys followed suit. “Family on three. Ready? 1, 2, 3, Family!” We shouted with him, and the boys jumped on top of him again. I laughed at them, smiling and just letting the photographers continue taking candid shots for the next twenty minutes.
Life was sweet. We came home, the boys fully accepting of Devereaux as their father figure. Devereaux slipped seamlessly into our lives. We explained to the management company that he was giving up his apartment to move in with us. They were so sweet, we didn’t have to pay the fee to break his lease. The boys asked questions, some days were harder than others with their emotions, and how they tested us, tested him.
We kept steady, showing them we loved them. That we were here for them. I think we were so focused on us, living in our bubble, that we didn’t notice it at first. It wasn’t until things in the day-to-day of our lives started being affected. Mail was being delivered, without ever having gone through the post office. Photos from my private social media started being placed under our windshield wipers, with ‘homewrecker’ and ‘whore’ written on them. They were being delivered at our jobs, at the kids’ school, at our apartment building.
I was starting to get worried. Then, little things started happening. At first, they were so random, I thought they were all a coincidence. Just weird little things, and then the photos came. I had no idea what the fuck was going on. There were photos from my social media, then from school drop-offs and pick-ups with the kids. It was freaking me out. I told Jenson and Petey, and they started working on it right away, and I knew my legal bill would be hefty for this one. There was no way all this crazyshit could be covered under one favor he owed Row. I showed Row every photo.
