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“She’s a work of art. It’s my job to make sure she’s shown in the best frame and in the best light. And that suit is it.” He’d pointed at this black Chanel summer wool. “It’s a signal that this is a woman you should not underestimate.”
Every time I wear it, I stand a little taller, feel less vulnerable. So, even though my feelings for him are still so muddled, I put it on this morning, because I need to feel those things today. But thinking of him now, only adds to my agitation. I’m supposed to revile him. To hate him. And, I don’t. Yet, I can’t say I love him, when I didn’t even know him.
Like I didn’t know Marcel.
Like my mother didn’t know my father.
I don’t trust my judgment anymore…and as much as I miss Stone, there’s a part of me that’s glad things ended, before he could disappoint me, too.
“Hey, you okay? You growled.” Remi puts a hand on mine and squeezes.
The tenderness in his voice makes my undeserving heart ache. He’s done so much for me this week.
“Yes, I’m fine,” I say. And then, I proceed to fake it until I can make it true.
The door opens, and Sylvester Hadnott, the most unscrupulous family attorney in the city, sticks his head out. He’s wearing a huge grin. I’m going to enjoy wiping that smile off his face.
I get my focus back, put the smile Marcel isn’t expecting on, and walk in to face my fate.
Marcel looks every single one of his fifty-seven years. I take some comfort from the gray scruff on his cheeks. He dyes his hair, as regularly as he needs to, so he can hide all but a few wisps of gray at his temples. I haven’t seen him with stubble since our honeymoon. It’s gratifying to see him look like hell.
“Are you ready to discuss terms?” The mediator, sitting at the head of the table, speaks.
“Yes. We have ours ready,” Remi says.
Marcel huffs in indignation. “Terms? What terms could you have? I have you by those little hairs on your disloyal cunt.”
“This is a negotiation,” I return evenly.
“You don’t get to lecture me. You have broken rules, and now, you will learn the consequences. Cunt,” he enunciates.
“Mr. Landel, please. Remember that all oral exchanges will be part of the record I submit to the court. The petitioner can begin. I understand you have a list of terms.”
Marcel chuckles. “By all means, let me hear your terms... of surrender.”
Ignoring him, Remi pulls out the list we prepared and starts to read.
“Regan will continue to raise the children. You can have the summers, as you do now. Regan will retain her residence at the family home she has always lived in with the children. She’s willing to buy you out of any equity you’re deemed to be owed. She wants you to sign an NDA, agreeing to keep personal knowledge gained during your marriage private, and she is willing to do the same.”
“The fuck I will,” Marcel bellows. “You must think I’m insane,” he scoffs, flouncing back in his chair, affronted.
Marcel’s lawyer leans over and whispers something in his ear.
Remi looks at me and raises his eyebrows, his eyes clouded with worry. I smile reassuringly.
Nothing Marcel knows about me is more damaging than what’s on that video. Once he sees it, he’ll do whatever I say.
I nudge Remi under the table, and he clears his throat and looks back at the document. “Mr. Landel will agree to keep private any information he accessed when he breached Mrs. Landel’s account to steal the photograph that was originally printed in Aussi magazine.”
M
arcel yawns. “I didn’t steal that picture. Who would even believe that? Why would I want the world to know I’m a cuckold?” He points a self-righteous finger in my face.
“Further, Mr. Landel will agree to seek help for his anger issues and sex addiction in exchange for continued unsupervised summer visitation with his children.”
Marcel’s face turns red, his lips thin into furious white slash. “You have lost your mind,” he speaks in a muffled scream.
I have to bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from laughing in his face.
