Page 60 of Dream Chaser

“Unfortunately, this is relatively common when one of the parties is opposed to the divorce,” Edward said. “He’s likely trying to delay it, but we’re still within the sixty-day window.”

“It’s already been a week.” Defeat seeped into my voice. How would we ever pin him down at this rate?

Edward sighed. “Supposedly, he’s out of town.”

In the middle of his campaign? Not likely. I expelled a disbelieving laugh. “I’m sure he isn’t.”

“I’m sorry, Nova. Our process server will keep trying.”

A heavy weight settled on my chest. The delay meant more money in lawyer’s fees, and less for my own place. My dream of renting a cozy studio in a high-rise close to the office shrank further. “It’s okay. Let me know if anything changes.”

I ended the call, still fuming. Why was Preston doing this? He didn’t love me. Looking back, I wasn’t sure why he’d proposed at all.

Eleanor strolled into the kitchen, already dressed for work in a lilac silk blouse and tailored gray pants. “Happy birthday.” She beamed as she breezed by me on her way to the coffee maker. I’d started a pot when I woke earlier. “You look beautiful.”

After getting paid, I’d splurged on a few office outfits, including today’s dress. Buying new clothes felt amazing—even more so because I used the money I’d earned.

“Thank you. You look pretty too. I love those colors on you.”

“Thought I’d dress up in case we go out after work. It’s an office tradition whenever it’s someone’s birthday. The agency’s paying, so unless you have something more exciting planned, we’re having a party.”

She did a little dance on the spot.

Despite the guilt from refusing to go out with my colleagues for the last month, I laughed. “Party it is.”

“Awesome.” Eleanor poured her coffee into a travel mug. “You need a distraction. God knows divorces are emotionally taxing.”

More than taxing, my divorce seemed impossible. On cue, my phone’s screen lit up with a call from Donna. I stared at it, and my stomach rolled over. Rejecting it was tempting, but I needed to tell her my decision was final. Maybe then she’d stop insisting.

“Speaking of the devil, I need to take this,” I told Eleanor. “You can head to the office without me. I’ll see you there.”

“Good luck,” she said, squeezing my shoulder on her way out.

Once the apartment door closed, I accepted Donna’s second call. “Donna.”

“Happy birthday, Nova.” The fake warmth in her tone grated on my nerves.

“Thanks,” I said, refilling my mug. Maybe more coffee would help me stomach Donna’s words.

“I’m very disappointed in how you’ve handled things with my son.”

Well, at least she didn’t waste time on fake pleasantries. “Preston and I are better off apart,” I said evenly. “I know you want the best for him, and divorce is the best thing for both of us.”

Her derisive laughter rang down the line. “The best? His political career is in jeopardy thanks to your selfishness. Have you even thought about what his supporters will think if they find out? He built his campaign on family values.”

I dug my nails into my palm. “I don’t see how that’s my problem, but maybe if he’d displayed some of those family values at home, things could be different. Instead, he disrespected me. For years.”

Donna snorted. “You left him over words he didn’t even mean. Marriage is about forgiveness. Your generation thinks relationships take care of themselves, but they’re hard work.”

I was fed up with hard work and being ignored. Fed up with feeling like anything but a partner, anything but cherished by the man I’d married.

“Marriage is about respect. I deserve better than the way your son treated me. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get to work.”

“The job that matters the most is the one you left behind at home, where you belong with your husband.”

My brewing irritation reached a boiling point. “You mean, the job of raising Preston? I’m sorry, Donna, that job isn’t mine. It’s yours. If your son could release your apron strings long enough to receive the divorce papers, that’d be great.”

I cut the call before she could infuriate me even more and sipped my lukewarm coffee. Unfortunately, it didn’t quell my nerves. I stared out of the kitchen window at the morning traffic, trying to pull myself together before going to the office.