Gabe hated courthouses. The ancient smell, the creaky floors, the dusty air.
His foot tapped of its own accord. He wasn’t nervous. Hell, no. He had been waiting for this day since the day he slapped himself out of his Kenzie-induced depression and realized that if she could walk out on him after everything they had been through, all the pain and the suffering, then she couldn’t possibly have loved him the way he thought she had. The way he had always loved her.
He hadn’t seen her since three weeks ago, when he had found her in his bed. Naked. Gloriously, deliciously, seductively naked.
It had taken every ounce of willpower he had ever had to turn her down.
Christ, after over a year of not engaging in any sexual activity whatsoever, he could have ejaculated in his pants with just a glimpse of the tits he had loved so much.
He didn’t know how he managed it, but he had found the strength to walk out of the room and to throw his folder of revenge on the bed. The bed he wanted to climb into.
Her tears almost melted his resolve, but after a year of beating himself up, wondering how he had let her down and coming to the realization that she was the one who let their marriage down, he managed to scrape up a pile of resentment and cast it back on her.
The night before she left, they had made love in that same bed. She had whispered her wedding vows in his ear. She had promised to always love him, honor him, cherish him. In sickness and in health. For better or for worse. ‘Til death did they part.
She had left the next fucking day.
The pen in his hand snapped in half, startling him back to the moment. He had arrived early in hopes that he could slip into the courtroom before she arrived, but he was told to take a seat in the waiting room. They had to go before a mediator.
He didn’t want any mediation. He wanted an end.
She breezed in on a cloud of the perfume he had always loved on her. Sweet, but not cloying, with a touch of musk that made his heart race.
Why couldn’t she have changed? Why couldn’t she seem more like the heartless bitch he had constructed in his mind—the one who had left a goodbye note on their kitchen table, with the small teddy bear they had bought for a baby they would never have holding her wedding and engagement rings, resting on top of the perfume-scented paper?
He thought his teeth might snap right out of his gums as he watched her look at him and quickly look away. She checked in at the window, asked if there was an alternate place she could wait, and finally sat as far from him as she could.
He didn’t want her to look at him.
But why the fuck wouldn’t she look at him?
She had no right to be pissed at him.
He intended to remain civil, but the longer he glared at her, the less civil he felt.
A moment later, a door swung open, creaking on its ancient hinges. A young man with shaggy hair studied a clipboard with narrowed eyes before calling them forward.
How ignorant was the kid? They were the only couple in the room.
He took his time standing, all while watching her collect her purse and stand in a flurry of nervous energy. They made it to the door at the same moment. She paused awkwardly, gesturing for him to go first.
“Ladies first,” he offered generously. She was no lady. Not anymore.
She nodded her thanks toward Gabe, and then smiled a wide smile at the young man who blushed as he welcomed her to his office.
Gabe leaned back in his chair and watched as the mediator, who seemed far too young and inexperienced for the job, fumbled with papers. He was uncomfortable. Probably attracted to Gabe’s wife.
He should be uncomfortable, dammit. Goddamned child was unprofessional.
Gabe pushed all jealous thoughts out of his mind. The mediator could have her. Let her chew him up and spit him out just like she had done to Gabe.
Gabe had been promising himself a lust-filled night to celebrate his divorce. He had been unable to bring himself to act on any of the offers he had received since his wife had left him, believing that their love could overcome the betrayal she had served him with. About six months after she had left, resentment had taken hope’s place, but he still had been unable to consider being with anyone other than his wife.
With a divorce decree in hand, he’d celebrate like any not-yet-dead man would.
Aware he had missed something important when he realized they were both staring at him, awaiting his answer, he leaned forward and tried like hell to recall what words the mediator had spoken.
Given Kenzie’s horrified and pale face, it had to be something terrible, which nearly had him agreeing out of spite alone.
When he didn’t answer, Kenzie turned back to the young man, reaching across the desk as if she were about to grab the man’s hand.
“I’m sorry, that’s impossible.”
The young man cleared his throat and once again fumbled through the papers before clasping his hands together and resting them on the pile in front of him.
“I don’t like having to break this news to couples, but the judge has been very clear in what he expects. He made us all go through this weekend long program on collaborative problem solving, and he refuses to grant a divorce without the two month living together requirement.”
Gabe pushed back in his chair, startling everyone in the room, including himself.
“I’m sorry, what?”
Kenzie turned her pale face toward him for the first time.
“He says we have to live together in our marital home for two months. If we still want the divorce after two months, it will be granted immediately and we’ll be able to divide things as we see fit.”
“And if we don’t go along with this?” His icy voice chilled the room. He watched as Kenzie shivered.
“They’ll make us liquidate all of our marital assets, and the court will decide how it’s split based on equitable distribution.”
“Liquidate?” He turned to the mediator, who pushed his glasses up on his nose.
“Yes, sir. You’ll have to sell the house and the business. The judge wanted to be sure the stakes were high enough that couples would opt in to the program.”
“Bullshit!” Gabe pounded a fist on the desk, rattling the metal cup of pens and apparently, the mediator’s nerves.
“Gabe…” Kenzie reached over and rested her small hand on his forearm.
“Don’t touch me.” He jerked his arm away, feeling burned. “I’m not living with this woman.”
Kenzie fell back in her chair. He didn’t look at her again, but he felt her dissolving away as if she wished she could disappear fully.
“The only way around this new program is if one of you feel threatened by the other.” The mediator looked pointedly at Kenzie. “Was there abuse in the relationship?”
Kenzie shook her head. Gabe considered showing how abusive he could be. To mediators.
“How about the emotional abuse that accompanies abandonment?”
The mediator pulled another frigging checklist from his pile of haphazardly stacked papers. When he was done scanning it, he looked up over his glasses at Gabe.
“Nope. Not on the list.”
Gabe leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest.
“This has to be illegal. You can’t make someone live with someone they loathe.”
“That’s true. We can’t. I’ll send this to the judge and he’ll send you documents on how to proceed with the sales.”
The little fucker checked off a bunch of boxes on a form, then slid it over for Kenzie to sign.
“I don’t want anything. He can keep it all. That’s not why I came back.”
“Sorry, that decision is out of your hands if we proceed this way. The judge will decide how things are split. If you could just sign the line I marked, I can have you out of here in a jiffy.”
She did as requested, but Gabe noticed her hand shaking. He studied the form when it was placed in front of him.
“Do you know what she did?” His voice was higher than he remembered it being in his prepubescent years.
“This isn’t the place to hash out those issues, but I will provide you with a packet of information, including some highly recommended local marital therapists to assist you in the transition back to your marriage if you choose to follow the suggested route. Otherwise, please sign the waiver so I can show the judge that you were given the option but opted to move forward with the divorce.”
“You know when a therapist would have helped? Before she disappeared.”
Gabe ripped up the form Kenzie had signed.
“Fine. We’ll do this. But on the sixtieth day, I’m out.”
“I understand your frustrations, Mr. O’Brien.”
“Do you?” Gabe shouted. “Has your wife ever walked out on you after vowing to love you forever? Has she left you mourning and wanting to die along with the child you were supposed to have? Because unless you’ve been through that, don’t fucking tell me that you understand my frustrations.”
“Gabe, don’t do this.”
He turned his fiery eyes to his wife. “Oh, don’t worry, Mrs. O’Brien. We’re doing this. Just don’t expect me to like it.”
Little Mediator Prick cleared his throat again, and Gabe resisted the urge to send his fist into it.
The paperwork took a few more minutes. As soon as he was certain the last form had been signed, he shoved the chair into the wall and pushed the door open.
“Mr. O’Brien, I have to be sure you understand. Mrs. O’Brien must move into the marital home within the next twenty-four hours. We’ll expect weekly updates, which can be submitted online for your convenience.”
“Oh, thanks so much for the fucking convenience.”
He slammed the door shut at the precise moment that Kenzie released a frustrated groan.
He had a feeling he’d be hearing a lot of that over the next two months.