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‘I… I don’t know if it’s fair to ask. Not now. Actually, forget it. Maybe you should take some time, you know, to think about things. Not that I want you to change your mind, I just—’
‘Becky, you’re babbling. What is it?’
Her chest rises as her eyes connect with mine. I brace myself, wondering how much more she can tell me tonight.
‘The reason Mike came to New York, or the way he managed to find me, is because I started divorce proceedings. I wanted to be strong enough to finally break from him, for good. I also wanted to be able to tell you, but I wanted to be able to say I was getting a divorce. Maybe that seems crazy now, given the mess I made of everything. I could just feel things changing between us, then on Monday, when you… we slept together. I don’t know, it felt different to the other times, it felt…’
‘Like we made love?’
Her mouth curves at one side. ‘Yes. I knew then that I’d fallen for you, with all of me. I think I knew it before then, but the words were right there, and I felt like I couldn’t say them, not until I had taken care of things here.’ Her words wrap around my heart, warming me, taking hold of me. She hasn’t said it, not exactly, but she feels the same.
‘I’m here because I have a meeting with Mike and our lawyers tomorrow to sort out the divorce.’
‘And you want me to go with you?’
‘I’m not asking you to represent me or anything, I wouldn’t do that. I just, what I would really love to do is walk into that room tomorrow, look Mike in the eye, and tell him to go fuck himself.’
Her level of hatred for this man is appropriate but hearing it from her surprises me.
‘The thing is, he has this kind of hold over me, and as much as I want to break free of him, I know I’ll sit in that room and not say anything. If you were there, it would just… I would just feel…’
I reach out and pull her in to kiss me. ‘I’ll be there with you.’
She kisses me with such urgency it leaves me desperate to hold her, to take care of her, protect her, and make love to her.
‘I would really like to have our food brought up to my room.’
She presses her forehead to mine and lets out a short giggle. ‘Me too.’
‘God, I’ve missed that smile.’
24
DREW
We step out of a black cab in front of an old English building: white with dark wood beams and windows. It’s like something from a Charles Dickens novel. It harbors a small family law firm.
Rain is pounding against the sidewalk. I hold up a large umbrella, borrowed from the hotel, that both Becky and I can fit under. Becky straightens her black tailored dress and fusses, replacing her handbag over her shoulder and smoothing her already perfect hair.
‘Are you okay?’ I ask her.
She nods too quickly and tightly to be convincing.
‘Let’s just take a breath, okay? Look at me.’ I run my fingertips down her cheek, and she leans in to my palm. I want to tell her I’m here with her, that we’ll do this together, but that’s not what she needs. Instead, I tell her, ‘You’ve got this, Becky. You’ve come this far all on your own. Go in there with your head held high and finish this.’
‘You’re right. You’re right. I’m ready.’
‘That’s my girl.’ I kiss her temple, then take her hand as we walk inside. The building smells musty, like an old library. Becky takes the lead, speaking to the receptionist. I stand behind her.
‘It’s this way,’ she tells me, even though I heard the directions from the receptionist.
‘Lead the way.’
We walk down a wooden corridor that’s decorated with gold-framed portraits of the founders or ex-attorneys of the firm. It screams old, stuffy British law school to me.
Outside the meeting room, a man introduces himself to Becky as the attorney she spoke with on the phone from New York. He has a rotund belly, and what is left of his hair is gray. He’s a short man, and his suit pants ripple at the heels. I inwardly roll my eyes. I could do a better job of this, and I don’t have the first clue about handling a divorce.
‘Victor, this is Drew.’
