Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 98846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
He has a whispered conversation with his lawyer, frowning the entire time. Eventually he huffs a breath. “Fine. You can have a hundred K: that’s chump change for me. Don’t spend it all on new tits.”
“Wow. You are absolutely disgusting. Good to see some things don’t change.” I scribble my signature on every page, slide them aggressively toward Corey, and slam the pen down in front of him, wishing I could stab him in the hand.
I wait until Corey signs each page, which takes forever since he writes like a six-year-old who’s half-asleep. Then he wire transfers the money directly to my account while my lawyer’s paralegal makes a copy of the papers for me. I gather my things and push away from the table, shaking the lawyer’s hand. “Thank you for freeing me from the shackles of misery.”
“You’re welcome.” He fights to hide a smile.
I hightail it out of the office and speed walk as calmly as I can down the hall. I just want to get as far away from Corey as possible.
“You still think your Boy Scout is gonna want my used goods?” he calls out after me.
I want to turn around and kick him in the balls, but we’re in a law office, and that would be grounds for some kind of charges, so instead I ignore him and keep walking.
I know I’ve made the right decision. While some may think I’m being opportunistic in asking him for that money, he cost me my job and a whole lot of dignity with the horrible things Sissy said about me. I have a right, after the public humiliation that follows me online and will probably follow me forever now. If anyone were to do a search of my name, they’d find this, and who knows what future damage that could cause.
I push through the door and step out into the cold, rainy day. I don’t run across the lot in a bid to outrun Corey, because he’s definitely faster than me, and also, running is exactly what he wants me to do. So I pop my umbrella, almost hitting Corey in the face with one of the sharp ends, and begin a leisurely saunter across the lot.
“Your Boy Scout coming to pick you up?” he mutters, then spots my dad’s car. “Or has he already dumped your crazy ass, and now you’re gonna live in your daddy’s pool house forever?”
I spin on my heel and tip my chin up so I can look him in the eye. “I wonder how you’d feel if you had a daughter and you heard someone speaking to her the way you are to me, right now. I hope Sissy has a girl, and I hope you actually give a shit about her so you’ll understand what it’s like to legitimately want to protect someone from others’ harm. I will never understand why you need to constantly tear people down to make yourself feel better about who you are.”
I don’t wait for him to process that comment, because I’m not sure he actually can. The driver’s side door of my dad’s car opens, and I physically feel Corey back off. The air is suddenly lighter, and it’s not such a struggle to move.
My dad rounds the hood, glancing in Corey’s direction. “You okay?”
“Fine. Good. Let’s just go.”
He opens the passenger-side door for me, and I slide into the seat.
“Queenie.” He’s gripping the frame of the car like he wants to tear something apart. Namely Corey.
I meet his gaze. “It’s done. I can’t move on if you can’t, so please, let it go.”
He exhales a breath through his nose but does what I ask. It isn’t until we leave the parking lot and are headed back toward my dad’s place that I allow all the emotions I’ve been holding on to out.
“Hey, hey, what’s wrong? What happened?” My dad glances at me and back at the road as he reaches across the center console to squeeze my hand.
“I’m just relieved it’s over. That’s all. I want to be able to move forward, and having this whole thing hanging over my head this past week has made that impossible. Like there’s been a weight on my chest, and I can’t breathe.”
“I think it might be similar to how I felt when your mother finally signed over full custody. My whole life felt like it was suspended until that moment, so I get it, Queenie. I’m so sorry that you had to go through this at all.”
“Well, it’s done now, so we can leave it in the past, where it belongs.” I tap on the armrest, gathering my courage. “I asked for money and I got it. Not a lot. I mean, it’s a lot for me but not for him. I can pay for college now. I can finish my degree, and you won’t have to worry about helping me financially.”