I had told them not to be crazy and that I was fine.
I totally wasn’t fine.
Which was why I was thankful for my new girlfriends coming to keep me company, distract me and just have some adult company. I didn’t really have a lot of girlfriends. Karen and Eliza didn’t count, since I considered them family. There were a few moms at school who weren’t part of the Lululemon brigade, and we got on pretty well. But none that made me feel like these women. None that I would think would do what these women had already done for me. I felt like I could tell them anything and they wouldn’t judge.
“Here you go,” Rosie said, putting a long-stemmed champagne glass in my hand.
I gaped at the glass. Although my own glasses were kick-ass, unique and beautiful. They were not like this. And they did not come in a powder blue box that was currently sitting on my coffee table.
I gaped at Lucy. “Please tell the mother of a five-year-old child that makes a sport out of breaking things that you didn’t get me Tiffany glasses that I will now be willing to protect with my life, they’re that beautiful,” I said, my voice a little thick. No one had given me anything this nice before.
I didn’t even think I was into things like this, but seeing the box, feeling the glass, looking at the geometric shape that had a frosted bottom, I realized I was totally into things like this.
Lucy shrugged, taking a glass from Rosie. “Every girl deserves something from Tiffany, you more than most,” she replied simply as if it were that simple. “And if something breaks, it breaks. That’s life. Beautiful things break. But that doesn’t mean we don’t have pretty things. Some of the most beautiful things I’ve seen are those that have been broken.”
My throat got even thicker, so much so, I didn’t know how I was going to drink this extremely fancy champagne out of my new fabulous glass.
“Now, open the damn envelope,” Rosie said before I could start crying.
I did as she said, because it seemed like a better thing to do than burst into tears. But then, once I opened it, read it, I burst into tears anyway.
“I also got you a pen,” Lucy said, voice softer this time. “Because you have to use a Tiffany pen when signing the divorce papers that free you from that loathsome, weak, piece of shit.”
I was blinking so rapidly the paper was blurry. But it wasn’t too blurry to see Robert’s scribbled signature at the bottom of each page. I’d all but accepted my fate of having to be legally connected to him for the rest of my life, because I would never risk serving him with divorce papers and potentially putting Nathan and I in danger. I’d never entertained the thought of marrying again, my main focus was always Nathan and keeping him safe. I put ‘Ms.’ on all official documents and considered Robert my ex-husband. I’d decided a long time ago that our vows were void the moment he laid his hands on me. I’d found peace in that thought.
But I’d never realized how important this piece of paper would be until I was holding it in shaking hands.
“How did you get him to sign this?” I choked out, still looking at the paper.
“I used my manners,” Rosie answered. “The ones given to me by my biker club upbringing. The big, silent, murderous guy at my side might’ve helped too, but I like to think it was all me,” she continued.
My breath hitched at that. “Lance was with you?” I asked, trying to sound casual about the man I’d kissed then hadn’t seen or heard from in days.
She nodded. “Of course he was.” There was a knowing look on her face, but an understanding too. She didn’t ask any follow-up questions.
I was thankful for that. Then, with great effort, I pushed Lance out of my mind.
“This isn’t a gift,” I whispered to Rosie. “This is my life. My escape. You’re giving me my life back.”
All teasing left her eyes. “No, honey. You gave yourself your life back. You took it back. I’m just making it legal. First time I’ve actually made something legal, instead of doing something illegal. It’s nice.”
I choked out a half laugh, half sob.
Then I took a sip of two-hundred-dollar champagne. Then I used a Tiffany pen to rid myself of Robert in the eyes of the law.
I wasn’t sure which tasted better.
No, I knew exactly what tasted better.
It was a shame that sweetness didn’t last.
Chapter Sixteen
One Week Later
My week was not quiet, or peaceful, regardless of Lance’s absence and Duke’s presence. Just like Duke had subtly come on to me with chivalry and respect, he took my subtle rejection the same. There was no bitterness, no aggression borne from damages to a fragile male ego.