I glance at Gage and nod.
He fills them in for me. Thank God for him, because I don’t think I could’ve said it.
“Good Lord,” Joy says.
“Don’t forget the part about how she might be suing me and Mike’s business partner for support of her son, who was born between Tyler and Sophia.” I look to Joy. “Can she do that? Can she come for the money he left for me to raise our children?”
“Do we know for sure the child is his?”
Gage tells them about the DNA test that tied him to Tyler, which is further outrage on top of everything else. That Steve would do that without my consent is shocking.
“Hmm,” Joy says. “I’d have to do some research about precedents in situations like this.”
“I was hoping you’d say it’s preposterous that she could sue someone who didn’t know she or her son existed until today.”
“It’s not impossible,” Joy says. “People file lawsuits for everything under the sun. But is the estate closed?”
“It is. Has been for a while now.”
“Then it would be very difficult for her to stake a claim on it at this point.”
My entire body aches the way it did when Mike first died, and I wasn’t sure how I’d survive without him. In the time since I lost him, I’ve slowly, painfully and meticulously put my life—and my children’s lives—back together. All that progress has been lost. I’m right back to where I started, mourning the man I loved and the marriage that’s been exposed as a fraud.
Somehow, I managed to survive losing Mike, but this… I’m not sure I’ll survive learning that he lied to me, cheated on me again and had a child with another woman.
“I need someone to tell me how I’m supposed to deal with this, because I can’t fathom how I’ll do that.”
Gage puts his arm around me.
I force myself to let him comfort me when I don’t feel worthy of comfort. Does that make sense? No. I know it doesn’t. But that’s how I feel. I’m spinning like an out-of-control comet heading for a crash landing that’ll break me into a million tiny pieces that’ll never be put back together the way they once were. “What’ll I tell my kids?”
This group of people, usually so full of wisdom and answers to every dilemma, is completely silent, which proves how surreal this is. There are no answers to my questions that’ll satisfy my need to understand the man I was married to. I think of Rob and their parents, how they hold Mike up on a pedestal and how crushing this will be to them.
I can’t think about that now, or I’ll lose what’s left of my mind.
“Is there food?”
“Tons of it,” Roni says.
“Let’s eat.” I’m not sure my stomach will be able to handle food, but I need to do something. “And drink. I need a huge fucking drink.”
“I got you, baby,” Joy says.
She and I share a love of bourbon, and she makes the best cocktails.
Adrian stops me as everyone else heads for the kitchen. “You would remind me, in a moment like this, that the one thing we’ve learned is that nothing feels this bad forever.”
That is, I realize, exactly what I need to be told in this hellacious moment. “You’re right, and that’s very true. Thank you for the reminder.”
He hugs me. “Still, this sucks gigantic cock.”
I wouldn’t have expected to laugh just then. “It sure does.” Being with people who understand always makes such a huge difference, even when the latest catastrophe isn’t something any of us have contended with before. Grief is grief, and now I can add grieving for the marriage I thought I had to my already formidable list.
Joy has a strong drink ready for me that hits my empty stomach with a thud. I’m very careful never to drink too much lest my kids need me, but tonight is an exception to all the rules. I have a second bigger sip of the drink and love the way the bourbon warms me from the inside.
Gage appears at my side with a plate of food and silverware. “Sit and eat.”
I want to snap at him to not tell me what to do, but all I see when I look at him is concern and care. So I do what I’m told. The food, the booze, the company… They get me through the night. When I realize the others are much quieter than usual, I encourage them to be themselves and talk freely about other things.