“Tippi, please. I’m trying to help you before it’s too late—”
“If I see you again, I’ll contact the police and take out a restraining order. You’re familiar with those, aren’t you?”
After their divorce was finalized, her behavior grew more disturbing. She’d show up at his new apartment in Brooklyn, or outside his office in Midtown. Sometimes she’d confront him; other times she’d watch in silence, plotting her next move. She’d pledged to ruin his life. Oliver dealt with her deranged stalking for months before finally taking out a restraining order; it was the only thing that made her stop following him. He’d just started to recover from the whole traumatic ordeal when he met me.
“Whatever he told you, it’s a lie. He’s only doing it to cover himself—”
“He told me everything,” I said, firmly.
Searching her face, I expected to see anger, even insult. Instead, there was crisp panic. She was afraid she couldn’t get the words out fast enough.
“Did he tell you the Alpine initially belonged to me?” she continued. “He tricked me into signing it over to him when I was hopped up on the cocktail of antipsychotics thathegave me. Or that he took almost everything from me in the divorce?”
His account was different. Danielle’s manic spending put them in financial trouble. She drained their joint savings account and blew bonuses he’d spent months trying to earn. When he finally found the strength to walk away, all he had left was the Alpine and the clothes on his back—a fair bargain, he said, to finally have her out of his life.
“What you’re doing isn’t going to work,” I said, my tone resolute. “You’re a sick woman, Danielle.”
“I’m trying to warn you.”
I surged forward. “Oliver deserves to be happy.”
“Tippi! Please, listen—”
But I was already running away from her, stumbling into passing pedestrians as steaming liquid sloshed out of the top of my drink. Danielle had frightened me. I couldn’t explain why, exactly. She wasn’t physically intimidating. We were in a public space, surrounded by peoplewho had started to stare as a result of Danielle’s volume, the intensity of her tone, and my abrupt departure.
My heart pounded in my chest, my hands shook. It was an unsettling confrontation with the mentally ill ex-wife, a full-on bunny boiler striking during the light of day.
When I returned to the apartment, Oliver noticed my agitation immediately.
“What’s wrong?”
“I met Danielle,” I blurted out, slinging my purse onto the sofa. “She was waiting for me at the coffee shop.”
“What did she do?” He hurried over, sitting beside me on the couch. “Did she hurt you?”
“No. She tried to warn me about you.” A disgusted laugh bubbled over. “You never told me she was still bothering you.”
“We haven’t talked in years. Months before you and I even met.” He paused, staring at the ground as he thought. “Unless she’s been following me.”
“I recognized her from our engagement party,” I admitted. “I didn’t know it was her at the time.”
He stood and started pacing. “I bet the engagement is what set her off. I’ll reach out to her old psychiatrist. Tell him she’s started up again.”
“Don’t do that,” I said, conflicted by my own hesitancy. Seeing Danielle twice couldn’t have been a coincidence, especially given her history and the way she’d approached me, asking about Oliver. Her intentions were to unnerve me. Still, I hoped she was merely an inconvenience that would go away. “She didn’t threaten me or anything.”
“She has no business talking to you.” He stood in front of me, cell phone ready. “Her reaching out to you at all is a threat.”
I stood, placing my hands on his chest. “We’ll be gone in a few months, remember? She can’t follow us all the way to California.”
“I wonder if she heard we’re leaving town. Maybe that’s why she acted out.”
As he spoke, I realized I had no place in the conversation. He was debating with himself, sorting through options. Oliver rarely rattled,but I couldn’t blame him. I didn’t even know Danielle, and our interaction had left me shaken. Their history weighed on him. He was no doubt thinking back to everything they’d gone through together, everything she’d put him through.
“We’re fine,” I said, cupping the back of his neck with my hands. “She doesn’t scare me. I’m not going anywhere.”
Our eyes connected then. I could see his anxiety shedding, just as I felt my own heartbeat settle.
“I love you,” he said. “I promise you’ll never have to worry about her again.”
