“I know.”
“Well?”
“He cheated on me. Lied to me. Stole from me. That’s just the CliffsNotes explanation. Finally, I just couldn’t take it anymore. So, I left. Then, he filed for bankruptcy, ruining my credit and leaving me with a ton of debt that I can’t afford. As if that’s not fucked up, he acts like it was my fault that our house went into foreclosure and his belongings were set out on the curb.”
Grandma muttered a string of curses, but I could’ve sworn I saw something I didn’t expect to see. Tears. But she turned her head before I could confirm my suspicions. Seconds later, she turned to me. “Sounds familiar,” she confessed.
I’d heard the stories about Grandad, and I had to agree. Except, my grandmother ensured she left with everything she brought into the marriage. “Uncanny, huh?”
“I swear. I know people. I can have him—”
“Please,” I interrupted, my chin trembling as emotion clogged in my throat. “The best thing I can do is forget about him. He doesn’t matter anymore.”
Before I could protest, she pulled me into her arms, wrapping me in the warmth of her embrace. Then, the dam broke. As I sobbed, she whispered words of affirmation into the air.
I was worthy.
I was strong.
I was special to her.
“And you are better without that stupid Jay-Z wannabe asshole.”
Pulling back, I flashed a watery smile. “Grandma, stop.”
She wiped my cheeks with her thumb. “I could rap better than that muthafucka,” she continued. “His parents should’ve told him the truth instead of making him think he could do anything. I can’t imagine a United States senator being okay with his son wasting all his money on a failed career in hiphop. Sounding like a broke Kendrick Lamar. He’s definitely not like us.”
I laughed. “What do you know about Kendrick?”
Waving a hand, she said, “Girl, I know all about him.” She did a little shoulder shimmy. “I play his music all the time. I can barely understand the words, but I get the gist. Highly intelligent young—”
The door swung open, drawing our attention to it. Granny Joyce barged in. “Okay, Liv, what do you want me to do? I have that fundraising event tomorrow, but we can take a trip to Ypsi to handle that business.”
Eyes wide and mouth open, Grandma stared at her friend.
Granny Joyce approached us. “What? I got your text.” She glanced at Grandma, then at me. “Did I miss something? Was it a false alarm? Is the asshole still alive?”
“Fortunately for me, no.” Grandma stood, giving her friend a quick pat on the back. She grabbed the folder on the desk in the corner. “Already called the lawyer.”
“Good.” Granny Joyce grimaced. “I’m sorry, Albany. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“You don’t have to apologize,” I assured her. “I know how Grandma feels.”
The entire world knew how Grandma felt about her exhusband. At any given moment, she would hurl a not-so-veiled insult at the man. It was no surprise that Granny Joyce hated the man just as much. The two had a strong bond and neither one of them hesitated to be there for the other.
“But you don’t know this.” Grandma handed me a piece of paper. “I’m now officially a widow.”
Glancing at the document, I scanned it. Divorce papers. But … I peered at her. “It’s not signed.”
“No, it’s not,” she confirmed.
Granny Joyce grinned. “I’m prepared to be in attendance when you show up at that funeral and tell that homewrecker who the real wife is.”
“Wait.” I blinked. “I thought you divorced him years ago?”
Grandma raised a brow. “And give him my money? I don’t think so. There’s one thing my not-so-beloved husband always forgot. Never underestimate my petty. Your grandfather came into our marriage broke and he died broke.”
“But—”
