Chapter 5
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“He… he doesn’t care about me,” I mumbled, twisting the hem of my Zara blouse
nervously.
Damn, I couldn’t exactly announce to the whole family that Nathan’s delicious body was completely off–limits to me, and that my trusty Lelo vibrator was getting more action than my husband, could I? That would make me sound pathetically desperate.
I had barely finished my lame explanation when Mrs. Gray somehow produced a walking cane from beside her armchair and swung it at Nathan.
She held back, but the sharp “THWACK” against his broad back was particularly
loud in the tense room.
“What did I tell you?” she snapped, her perfect blowout barely moving as she shook with anger. “I told you to be more forward, you emotionally constipated man. Now look what’s happened–you’re about to lose your wife!”
Mrs. Gray berated Nathan thoroughly, then came over to console me, her diamond tennis bracelet catching the light as she patted my hand.
She explained that Nathan had never dated before, hadn’t even looked at a woman before I came along. She begged me to reconsider the divorce, her eyes pleading. “If my stubborn son doesn’t change his ways,” she promised, squeezing my hand, “I’ll personally find you a better man. Maybe that actor who just moved in down the street–you know, the one from that Netflix show?”
Emma wasn’t pleased with this matchmaking. “Mom, your son doesn’t act like someone who’s never dated. He’s like an emotionless robot, living like an 80–year- old man at 35. Our Alex is wasting away with him. This can’t be fixed with a fancy dinner and flowers.”
I silently gave my best friend a mental high–five. She always had my back. Nathan’s thin lips pressed together, and I saw genuine guilt on his usually blank face for the first time ever. He tried to take my hand to say something, but I
backed away three steps.
You haven’t earned the right to touch me.
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The room fell silent again.
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Ryan cleared his throat awkwardly, running a hand through his disheveled hair. I glanced at him. “Bro, I’m not one to lecture, but if Emma doesn’t want you, you should really check yourself. The way you talk is so nasty, you’d kick a puppy just for fun. No wonder you’re single–for–life material, seriously.”
Emma secretly gave me a thumbs up behind her purse.
Mrs. Gray turned her frustration to her other son. “Nathan, you’re lucky Alex even looked your way with those bedroom eyes of hers. Treating her so coldly is
absolutely unforgivable!”
My mom was also on the speakerphone, tearing Ryan a new one from California: “My daughter deserves better than your constant sarcasm, young man!”
An hour later, Nathan and Ryan were still standing there taking the verbal lashing.
Dignity? Male pride? Shattered beyond recognition.
I’d thought they would finally give in to the divorces, but instead, both insisted that even for divorce, there needed to be a thirty–day cooling–off period according to
New York law.
They pulled out their platinum credit cards, asking us to give them a month to
make amends.
Nathan pushed his silver–framed glasses up and came to stand before me, his expression dead serious:
“Alex, I’ve been too busy with work to take care of you properly. That’s entirely my fault. I promise I’ll fix things this month and make sure to treat you better from
now on.”
“That Hermès Neige bag you’ve been eyeing online will be delivered to you tomorrow. And take this card for the Bulgari jewelry salon next week–buy whatever catches your eye.”
I was stunned into silence. This man who had barely noticed me for six months was suddenly throwing designer goods át me?
Before I could process Nathan’s carefully crafted words, my brother straightened
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his Armani tie and looked at Emma:
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“Ahem, Emma, I admit I’ve let my professional habits affect me at home. My sharp tongue doesn’t reflect my true feelings–I’m just terrible at expressing myself.”
“This card is for your spending money, no limit. Didn’t you post on Instagram about wanting a Steinway grand piano? I’ll arrange it for you by the weekend, as
long as you calm down.”
Then, with intense gazes that could melt steel, they seemed to put all their pent–up
emotions into that moment.
“We absolutely refuse to divorce.”
Those two black cards glinted temptingly before us.
Emma and I exchanged glances, both seeing the golden glow of opportunity in
each other’s eyes. Everyone in the room waited for our response.
I felt the temptation growing with each passing second. Not wanting to lose face, I quickly snatched Ryan’s card.
“You think this small compensation is enough for Emma?” I said haughtily.
Emma immediately caught on and swiftly took her brother’s card: “This pocket
change wouldn’t even cover Alex’s Sephora budget!”
The second the cards were in our hands, afraid they might change their minds, we linked arms and quickly headed for the door.
In perfect sync, we took two steps, then looked back over our shoulders to make
our position clear.
“Ha! We can’t be bought with just a bit of money.”
5
