Bitter Sweet Heart (Lies, Hearts & Truths #2)(8)

“What about you? How are the students handling it now that the honeymoon period is over?” I ask.

“The pressure is really starting to hit a lot of the kids, especially since midterms are coming up and the deadline to drop courses has passed. We advertised a stress management group last week and it’s already full, with a waiting list.”

“Oh wow, can you add a second session?”

Sophia is a counselor for the college, dealing mostly with students who are struggling with the demands of college.

She nods. “I think we’ll be able to get approval for it.”

My phone buzzes again, and I pull it from my robe. I already had a few unanswered messages last night. I finally look at it and groan, because in addition to the message from my mother wishing me luck today on the seminar class and confirming a phone call later in the week, there’s one from my ex-husband. Or he would be my ex-husband if he would sign the divorce papers I served him back in August, which incidentally coincided nicely with my end-of-summer fling. The unanswered message tally is up to six.

Gabriel and I have been unofficially separated for a year, which is longer than our marriage lasted. After we walked down the aisle, the charismatic man I’d come to know changed. And when he moved us across the country with no warning, taking me away from my support network, I put my foot down. Well, I packed a bag and left. For nearly twelve months after that, I was off the grid. Only my parents and Sophia knew where I was and how to find me.

But I couldn’t stay married to Gabriel forever. I didn’t want to be married to him at all. So I contacted my lawyer and had the divorce papers drafted and served last month. Of course, now that Gabriel can contact me again, he wants to reconcile.

Which is ridiculous. There’s nothing to reconcile.

“Do you want me to check it for you?” Sophia asks, obviously aware of my trepidation and frustration.

I make the go-ahead motion.

She snatches the phone and holds it up to my face, activating facial recognition.

We’re closer than sisters. She has my banking password. Sometimes I’m too reactive to deal with messages from Gabriel, especially this early in the morning.

She swipes, and her mouth turns down as she reads the message. “Oh, for fudgsicle’s sake.”

“What now? Do I even want to know?” I can feel myself deflating, which is a terrible way to start what’s supposed to be an excitement-filled day.

“He wants to have the cabin on Pearl Lake reassessed. He thinks it’s undervalued. He also wants to know if you’ve given any further consideration to seeing a therapist with him. Seems convenient that he’s pushing the ‘get back together’ angle while also trying to squeeze more money out of you.”

“Oh, fuck him. Of course he wants to have it reassessed.” I cross my arms, my heart rate spiking. The hairs on my arms stand on end, and a zip of energy travels up my spine and wraps around my throat, creating phantom pressure. It’s a sensation I’ve grown entirely too used to when dealing with Gabriel. “He went there all of once when we were married, and now he wants to make it impossible for me to keep it. I need him to sign the papers so I can move on with my life.”

My parents handed over the deed to the cabin after I married Gabriel, sort of as a wedding present. Unfortunately, instead of keeping the cabin in my name only, they added his too.

Gabriel never had any interest in the cabin until I told him I wanted a divorce. Then he seemed to realize it had some value that wasn’t just sentimental on my part. I have no interest in giving it up, but I’m not in a great financial position to buy him out. While the seminar course helps, it doesn’t cover the cost of half the property.

“Do you really think he wants to reconcile?” Sophia says gently.

Another message comes in.

“What else has he added to the list?” I snap, immediately feeling bad because Sophia does not deserve my wrath.

“He said he’s been talking to a therapist on a regular basis. And that he sees now why you two didn’t work. And that it’s his fault you felt compelled to run away and hide. Those are his exact words.”

“I was afraid he was going to lock me in the basement and keep me like a pet!” I run a hand through my hair, shaking my head. I hate that he’s still trying to control me. At least his motives are transparent to me now in a way they weren’t when we were first married. “I’m sorry. Maybe I should look later, after I’ve finished teaching. I don’t need to start my day in a bad mood, and you don’t need me unloading on you.”

Sophia gives me a sympathetic smile. “It’s okay. I get that you’re frustrated. You’ve been moving on for a year, and he’s been stewing about you escaping his clutches. He’s good at holding things over your head.”

“I hope he gives up sooner rather than later, or the lawyer bills are going to eat my entire salary,” I gripe.

“I know it sucks right now, but at least at the end you’ll be free.”

“I need to be patient and not reactive. It’s hard, though, especially with the way he pushes my buttons on purpose.” It’s clear that’s his intention with his most recent messages. He’s trying to use what’s important to me to bargain for another chance.

“Do you want me to respond for you?”

I shake my head. “Leave it for now, and I’ll come back to it tonight. Now that he has my attention again, he wants it all the time, just like always.” Is it passive-aggressive on my part? Sure. But he’s being a manipulative ass.