Washed Up (Bayside Heroes)

I chuckle. “Deal.”

Then, all the joy drains from me.

“What?” David asks.

“Well, I’m glad you’re willing to forgive me and that you’re giving me your blessing, so to say,” I tell him. “But… I’m not sure it matters anymore.”

David tilts his head, confused.

“She hasn’t talked to me since that night everything went down. She won’t answer my texts or calls. She’s convinced it was all a terrible mistake, that I’m too young, better off without her, that we can’t be together not only because it would upset you, but because your dad would have the power to strip her alimony, too.”

“Strip her alimony? How?”

I tell him about the stupid stipulation he weaseled into their settlement, and he balls his fists, shaking his head with his neck lined with veins ready to pop.

“Bastard. He just wants to control her. He always has.”

“Don’t have to tell me that. The problem is, if the judge sides with him… he could. But,” I add. “I’m not worried about him. Or should I say, he’s the least of my worries. Because I have a plan.”

“You do?”

“Well, sort of,” I confess, grabbing the back of my neck. “But I need your help.”

David chews the inside of his cheek for a moment, like he’s still not sure. But then, determination sets in his brows, and he nods, folding his hands together between his knees as he leans forward like he’s ready for war.

“What do you have in mind?”

CHAPTER TWENTY

AMANDA

Two Weeks Later

“God, I’m so happy to be home,” I tell David when he opens my car door for me. He holds out a hand to help me up, and I let out a little happy sigh at the sight of my house. I’ve always had a love-hate relationship with the old thing, but after two weeks in a hotel room, I can’t wait to sleep in my own bed, shower in my own bathroom, and relax on my old worn-out couch.

“I’m sure you are. I’m sorry you had to wait longer than I expected.”

I give him a pointed look. “Trust me, I would have stayed out much longer to ensure every last one of those little buggers was gone.” My lip curls on a shiver. “Termites. I can’t believe I’ve been living all this time with termites.”

David chuckles, closing my car door and holding out his arm for me to loop mine through. He’s already got my suitcase out of the trunk, and he wheels it along behind us. “I’m just glad they were able to do a fumigation on such short notice. I wanted you to be back home before the holiday.”

I try to smile, but the attempt falls short. It just doesn’t feel like the holiday season to me. Between being kicked out of my house for a termite tenting unexpectedly, living in a hotel, pulling all-nighters to finish up finals at school, and spending every bit of spare energy trying not to torture myself with thoughts of Greg?

There hasn’t been time for holiday cheer.

Even thinking about him now makes my chest hurt, a long sigh leaving my chest. I miss his smile, and his hugs, and his crude sense of humor. I miss his laugh and the way it feels to ride in the passenger seat of his car, and how he always knew the right things to say.

I miss him.

I especially miss how he would drag me out of the house to do something fun instead of just letting me waste my life away. Before him, and likely without him ever showing up, I would spend every weekend on the couch with movies I’d already seen and wine I didn’t even particularly like. Now, I was at least trying to do more, thanks to his inspiration. And not just Al-Anon, but I also interviewed for an internship next semester, one for a therapist who works specifically with the clients I’d like to one day.

And then, there’s the divorce.

After two years, the paperwork is finally signed and filed, the divorce legal, and I’m already in the process of changing my last name back to Young. The court hearing was excruciating, Josh not making it easy on any of us, but fortunately for me, the judge saw right through his manipulation tactics and refused to grant his little stipulation on getting to revoke alimony if I seriously date someone who makes more money than him.

Not that I have to worry about that anytime soon.

The look on his face when the judge put him his place was enough to soothe all the heartache he’d put me through over the last two years. I saw the moment he cowered, the moment he realized he’d lost, and the moment he looked at me and saw that I was truly free of him.

Now, other than getting a check in the mail from him each month and seeing him at family events where Tucker is involved, I don’t have to worry about Josh Parks at all anymore.