Washed Up (Bayside Heroes)

Myra sighs. “I mean, if we went to court, I highly doubt the judge would side with this.”

“But then we’d have to go through fighting over everything, and all the mediation work would be null and void.”

“Right. And you’d have to wait. It’s a very full docket right now.”

“What are we looking at, timewise, if I refuse his asshole demand and we have to re-file and go to court?”

Myra shuffles through some papers on the other end, types something, and then sighs. “Maybe a year.”

“A year?” I nearly pass out again, and I immediately shake my head. “No. Absolutely not. I can’t. I’ve already fought with him for this long. It’s been almost two years since I asked him for this. Two years of my life, Myra.”

“I know.” She pauses. “Look, if I were you, I’d just agree. I know,” she says when I try to cut her off. “That this is not what you want. It’s not what I want either. I hate that he’s forcing your hand even after you’re no longer together. But, he’s already signed the papers.”

I blanch. “He has?”

“With this new amendment, yes. So, if we sign it, we can file everything today, and you could be divorced before Christmas.”

Free.

I could be free.

“Besides,” she adds. “I’d wager that the judge who oversees the finalization will see that amendment and throw it out. If they’re a fair and reasonable person.”

“What if it’s an asshole man like the one I married?”

Myra chuckles. “Well, then we work with it. Are you dating anyone right now? Is there any reason to be concerned in this immediate moment?”

My heart kicks in my chest, Greg’s smile washing to the surface of an already-murky river in my mind. As if there weren’t enough reasons for us not to entertain whatever it is we’re feeling for each other, I can now add this to the list.

“No,” I answer sadly.

“And you’re in school,” Myra points out. “That’s going to take up a lot of your time. Maybe this isn’t such a bad thing. Focus on yourself, get your degree, get the career you want, and then you won’t need his money, anyway. That’s been the plan all along, right? To be free of his alimony as soon as you can be?”

“Yes, but not like this, Myra,” I say softly. “Not like this.”

She’s quiet for a long moment, then she says, “I’m sorry this is happening, Amanda. I’ll support you no matter what you decide.”

I swallow, nodding, and run a hand back through my hair. But I already know what I must do.

I can’t wait any longer to be free of him.

“Let’s hope the judge has a right mind and throws it out,” I say.

“So… sign it?”

Another sigh. “I’ll head over now.”

“You can sleep on it. There’s no rush.”

But I stand, mind made up, heart already feeling lighter at the thought of being free of that man. I pull up the Uber app on my phone and head toward the parking lot.

“I’m ready.”

* * *

I’m about two glasses of wine deep that night when Greg calls me.

I’m also firmly locked into my pity party for one.

Between Josh’s comments over the weekend, the date with Samuel being an absolute disaster, midterms kicking my butt, and now agreeing to a heinous divorce settlement — I’m just done.

Greg hears right through my sad attempt to pretend I’m fine, and after pestering me long enough that I lose the will to fight, I tell him what happened.

“He can’t fucking do that.”

I laugh. “Oh, but he can.”

“There’s no way the judge will sign off on it. No way.”

“That’s what Myra thinks, but… I signed it. Which means I agreed to the terms. If the judge doesn’t pay close attention, it’ll slide right under the radar. They see hundreds of cases a week.” I sigh. “Besides, Josh is manipulative. If the judge does happen to ask him why he has that stipulation in the settlement, I know he’ll sell the story.”

“How?”

I shrug. “Who knows. He could say I broke his heart. He never saw this coming. It will help him heal. It will be better for his mental health. He doesn’t make enough to support the two of us forever. He wants to move on with his life and not be tied to the pain. There are a million reasons he could say that not financially providing for me should I start dating someone else who makes more than him would be a reasonable thing to ask.”

Greg sighs, long and heavy. “I’m so sorry, Amanda.”

“Ah, it’s all good,” I feign indifference. “I mean, not like I’m dating anyone, anyway. I can keep it that way for a few more years until I have my degree.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Yeah, well, life isn’t.” I drain the last of my wine.

“Are you tired?”

I frown at the odd question. “Not really. It’s only eight.”