“My health, much like my home, is no longer your concern,” she interrupted, the words as steely as the table before her.
Karl frowned, his honey-removal efforts pausing. Because what was up with Molly’s blood pressure? And her health in general?
“I care about you, and I’m a physician, Molly. Of course it’s my concern.”
Fantastic. Her ex was a damn doctor. Boasting a medical degree, not just a high school diploma. With money to burn, no doubt, and shiny leather shoes instead of Crocs.
That said, he was clearly a dick. Also, Crocs were fucking comfortable, so his loss.
“Listen, I know firsthand how little you paid for that house.” The bastard was still talking. Still trying to badger Molly into doing what he wanted. “I was there when your grandparents sold it to you, remember? With the extremely generous price I offered, you’d be making an enormous profit at my literal expense. Taking care of your health too, so—”
“My health is fine, and you can easily afford that price. WhichI know firsthand”—she emphasized that phrase, her voice like acid—“since you used my earnings and savings to get through med school with zero debt.”
Holy shit. She’d paid for his entire medical degree? How much money hadthattaken?
Defensiveness stiffened his response. “That was a joint decision, if you’ll remember.”
“Sadly, you’re correct. Which is why I’m taking my time with this one and ensuring I get it right.” Her eyes had narrowed with anger. “Again: I’ll call you if and when I put my house up for sale. In the meantime, stop contacting me.”
“Turning down that kind of offer...” A puff of air, as the other man blew out a breath. “It’s just incredibly foolish, Molly. I never expected you to be soirrational.”
A wave of heat engulfed Karl. Pure, undiluted rage. If her asshole ex were here, spouting that bullshit? He’d get two extra-wide Crocs up his—
“Goodbye, Rob.” She extracted her hand from Karl’s grasp. Tapped her screen with a now-clean finger. Ended the call while that prick was still talking, talking, talking.
When her cell immediately rang again, she swiped at the screen a few more times. Blocked her ex’s number. Then set down the phone again, exhaling slowly.
All stickiness was long gone from her hands. Cleanup efforts had become a massage a while back, and Karl kept at it. Rubbed her palms and joints. Waited.
Yeah, he needed to know more about her asshole ex. But a smart man—a man who cared—would let her come to him. Let her share what she wanted, when she wanted, because Molly shouldn’t be pushed into anything she didn’t choose to do.
“I suppose you could use some context for that conversation,” she eventually said, rewarding his exemplary goddamn patience.
He grunted noncommittally. Kept massaging. Kept her in control of the discussion.
“We met in college and moved in together after graduation.” Her spine was straight enough to use as a goddamn level. “It took him nine years to convince me to marry him, because I had doubts. Almost from the very beginning, actually. But I blamed those doubts on my own emotional damage, rather than paying attention to them. So we got married.”
Karl scowled down at her pinky, which he was squeezing and lightly tugging. “And that fucker shoved cake in your face.”
“Yes. But I stayed anyway.” Her silent sigh lifted and lowered her shoulders. “At first, we both did voice-over work and audiobook narration. After a while, though, he decided he wanted to go to med school instead.”
He scowled harder. Switched to her ring finger. “You paid for it.”
“I thought it was what a good partner would do. And in practical terms, it seemed to make sense. He said to consider it an investment in our future, since he’d be outearning me once he joined a practice. I’d pay now, he’d pay later.”
Her laugh contained zero joy. “It’s such a cliché. I’d even read a newspaper article about it years before.”
“About what?” He started massaging her middle finger. Aka the digit he wished she’d flipped her ex at their wedding ceremony, right before noping the hell out of there.
“How frequently men rely on their wives’ or partners’ income while they’re in med school and doing their residencies, then immediately leave after they’re earning an independent income of their own.” Her lips thinned. “And that’s exactly what he did.He finished his residency, joined a practice, started making good money, and then asked me for a divorce. There was no warning. No sign of anything seriously wrong until he was packing his bags and heading for the door.”
Took some real effort not to squeeze her finger too hard. Not to rant and shout and swear at the sheer injustice. But it wasn’t about him, his feelings, his outrage. Also? More he said, lessshe’dsay.
“When I pressed him on why he was leaving, he said there were two main reasons. First, he wanted children and I didn’t. The issue was a deal-breaker for him.” Clear exhaustion weighted each word, and she shook her head. “I couldn’t understand why he hadn’t told me that from the very beginning, or at least before we got married, because he knew I didn’t want kids. Ineverwanted kids.”
That bit, Karl could kinda understand. “He change his mind over the years?”
“That was my best guess too, but no.” Her jaw turned to stone. “Instead, he told me he hadn’t said anything because I was so difficult to talk to. So cold. And my coldness was his second reason for leaving.”
