“I don’t know, Reggie. I got another part in a movie, and it’ll start filming soon.”
Wrong answer. “Are you filming now?” he asks.
There’s a long pause. The level of anger I’m feeling starts to rise. I desperately want to hit the button and just stop this, but I can’t.
I signal to pull into the parking lot next to the pizza parlor, remembering how Autumn doesn’t prefer parallel parking. Again, I find myself tempted to shut the car off, ending the conversation, but I don’t.
Elena clears her throat. “Sorry, someone was talking to me,” she says, which I feel is a lie. She doesn’t want to answer her son's question.
“What are you doing today?” she asks.
“Going to lunch with Miss Autumn,” Reggie says.
“I like Miss Au-um. She’s pretty,” Roxy adds.
“Who is Miss Autumn?”
Before I can say anything, my daughter blurts out, “Daddy’s girlfriend.” I glance at Roxy. Her legs are bouncing, she has a smile on her face, and she’s looking out the window without a care in the world. She doesn’t know the magnitude of what she just said. Roxy starts to unbuckle, ready to get out of the car and get some pizza.
“We’re at the pizza place,” I say. “The kids will call you later.”
My finger is poised to press the ignition button and open my door, ending this call, but Elena blurts out, “Wait.”
I pause.
“Take me off speaker, Julius.”
I roll my eyes and look at Reggie. He has unshed tears in his eyes. I motion for him to get out of the car, and I reach for my cell phone, transferring the call. I don’t say anything for a bit. Instead, I focus on getting Roxy out of the car. Autumn walks toward me, and I point to the phone and then to the kids and finally the door. She nods and takes Roxy’s hand. As they walk away, I notice Autumn put her arm around Reggie and watch as he leans into her. Is she intuitive or just being nice to my son?
“What?” I bark into the phone.
“How long have you been seeing this new woman?”
My personal life shouldn’t be any of her business, but we share children, and regardless of what she’s done to our marriage, she has a right to know who is around her kids. My fear, which is sitting heavily in my stomach, is that she’s going to ask that Autumn not be around the kids. I’ve done this with her boyfriend. In my defense, though, Elena broke our family up for this man.
“Things are new. We’ve known each other for a little bit and just started dating.”
“And you’re already bringing her around the kids?”
“That wasn’t my intention,” I tell her. “Someone posted a photo of us, and Reggie saw it on social media,” I say this, hoping that Elena understands the message I’m sending her. That each time she’s out canoodling with her boyfriend, her son sees it thanks to the internet.
“And because he saw it, you decided to bring her home?”
“No,” I say, trying not to lose my temper. “Autumn—that’s her name—she’s on the news, and Roxy recognized her at the park. They hit it off. After your most recent outing with what's his face, Reggie asked if Autumn could come to his game.”
“Why would he do that?” she asks.
“I don’t know, Elena, maybe because his mother won’t.” My words have a little bite to them. I regret them, but I don’t apologize. “Because he sees you flaunting your relationship in the tabloids but can’t be bothered to come to visit.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Of course, it isn’t.”
“I think you should keep your girlfriend away from the kids until I’ve had a chance to meet her. I’m their mother.”
“Then act like one. You’re not filming anything that has you on set every single day. You can be up here, taking them to school, helping them with their homework, and spending time with them. But you’re not. You’re living the responsibility-free life while the rest of us watch it play out on the gossip shows.”
“My manager says—”
“I don’t care what your manager says.” I cut her off. “Listen, I’m meeting with my lawyer this week. Because of the prenup, things will be easy. You just have to sign and send them back. Hire a lawyer if you want. I’ve said you can keep the house in Los Angeles, and I’ll keep the apartment here. The kids will stay here until we can figure out a viable custody agreement, but as far as our marriage goes. It’s over. I’ve accepted it, and it’s time to end it.”
“I agree,” she says. “But I still want custody.”
My thumb and index finger push into my closed eyes, and I groan. “And I will fight you on this. I don’t care what it costs. The kids are better off with me. I gotta go.” I hang up, not giving her a chance to disagree with me. She wants money, and the prenup is very clear. The only way Elena gets a dime out of me is if she has full custody of the children, and I can’t let that happen. Not because I don’t want to support my children, but because the money is the only reason she wants them with her. I don’t want them living with a nanny while Elena is off doing whatever the hell she’s going to end up doing with her life.