Tears have sprung to my eyes thinking about poor Lola’s face when she was sitting on this very stool yesterday morning while we were all talking over breakfast. She’d been pale with anxiety and barely touched her food.
“And that’s not even the worst of it. He straight up told them we’re selling the house and that when I move out, the four of them will go pick out a new house together if they choose to live with him. He’s literally bribing them with a new house to choose him, just so he doesn’t have to pay me child support or alimony. How can I compete with that?”
Suddenly, I’m facing Winston, his big hands framing my jaw and forcing me to look up at him, his expression fierce. “There is no competition, Cece. It’s obvious just by the girls not giving him a straight answer that they don’t want to live with him full time, and the courts are going to look at his history since he moved out, and the fact that you’ve been a stay-at-home mom raising those girls their entire lives, and there’s no way in hell they’re going to grant him full custody. No way.”
I swallow, blinking back my tears, and nod as much as his hands allow. “I think my sister might’ve talked to him when he picked them up yesterday. He sent me a text that was actually… reassuring, I guess you could say. Thoughtful, as if he wanted to ease my worry a little bit. He told me the girls won’t be alone with Tammy and that if it wasn’t serious between the two of them, he wouldn’t have her around our kids.”
“Well at least there’s that,” he murmurs, swiping his thumb gently over my cheek, and I make myself pull away to face my food again. I can’t allow myself to be swayed by his physical touch I so desperately crave.
“So anyway. That’s what I’ve been dealing with for the past few days, and now I’m hunting for a new place and not having any luck so far. But I have schoolwork I need to complete before the girls get home, and I think it would be a very bad idea for Mike to drop them off while you’re still here. So not to be rude, but I think this needs to be the end of our visit. Thank you for dinner, Win. I really appreciate it,” I tell him, spilling all my thoughts out at once so I don’t clam up or beg him to stay. A tiny, reckless part of me wants him to hide his truck down the street and sneak in through my bedroom window like a lovesick teenager. But with my luck, someone would see him, and there I’d be caught with a married man in my room.
Thankfully, he doesn’t argue with me, and he leaves soon after with a soft goodbye and longing in his eyes that I know reflects in my own.
19
Winston
Me: I’ve come up with a solution to our situation.
I send the text to Cece, even though it’s close to midnight. She might be asleep, but either way, I need to talk to her, even if she doesn’t get my message until the morning.
My screen lights up with her response, and my heart gives a mighty throb.
Cece: You found a loophole in your prenup after all?
I frown at that.
Me: No. I mean a solution to treating you like any other employee in front of everyone, but still showing you how serious I am about us.
Cece: There is no us, Win. There can’t be an us. Not until you’re at least legally separated. And that can’t happen for another three years.
I know she’s right. My mind knows she’s absolutely correct. But my heart, my soul, won’t allow me to stop pining over her like a lovesick puppy. I’d give anything to be with her, including everything I have. But Cece has made it clear it would devastate her if I gave it all up so we could be together.
Another text comes in before I can respond.
Cece: I know it may seem like I’m being… I don’t know, playing hard to get? Stubborn? Even prudish for being a stickler for this. But you have to understand, Win. Every man who has ever been important in my life has been a cheating bastard. I don’t want… I CAN’T look at you like that. I don’t want to put you in the same category as them, and that’s what you’d be if I let anything happen between us when you aren’t even legally separated from your wife.
I grip my phone tightly, forcing myself to calm before I snap it. Goddamn this fucking prenup!
Me: Three years, Cece. I haven’t been with her, lived with her, anything with her in three. Fucking. Years. The only thing that’s linking us is a stupid piece of paper.