She’s tried calling me half a dozen times all last night and today. Probably to find out whether I’d show today, or whether she should start calling our lawyers about drafting the contract that will fuck me over the hardest.
I’m making the right decision. It was easy, actually. After Cassidy and I really talked, after I found out how she feels about me… There’s no other decision I can make, now.
The counselor opens the door to let herself and Sheryl in. As expected, Sheryl’s jaw drops when she spots me inside the room already. I rise from the couch, offering the counselor my hand. “This is going to be our last session,” I tell her, before anyone else has a chance to speak.
“All right,” the counselor replies, her eyes jumping between me and my ex-wife carefully. She takes her seat across from us. Sheryl sits down too, on the couch where I’d been a moment before, way too close for comfort.
I perch on the arm of it instead, to avoid any contact. “This situation—this marriage,” I amend, “is untenable for me. I’ve realized Sheryl is not going to change, and neither will I. We just aren’t compatible, Sheryl.” I look at her, now, and behind her fury, I notice genuine tears forming in her eyes.
“This will be better for both of us,” I tell Sheryl. “We need to go our separate ways. You need to let me go.”
“I’ve told you,” Sheryl starts, and I raise a hand to stop her.
“I know your terms,” I explain. I glance at the therapist. Back at my ex. “You can keep the company. If that’s what you need to get back on your feet and to feel like you have closure, it’s all yours.”
Now her jaw drops for an entirely different reason. “But…”
“Do I think it’s fair? No.” I laugh under my breath. “But I don’t care anymore, Sheryl. I built that company from scratch once, and I can do it again. So, you win.”
She takes a shaky breath.
Across from us, the counselor claps her hands. “Well. This does seem like a breakthrough. Sheryl, how are you feeling?”
I resist the urge to groan.
“How am I feeling?” Sheryl clenches her fists. “This is insane. You’re only doing this because that whore you’ve been cheating on me with suggested it. The Lark I knew would never—”
“The Lark you knew didn’t exist,” I interrupt. “You never knew me, Sheryl. You just projected what you wanted to see. And for the last time, don’t you dare insult Cassidy.”
Sheryl’s smile turns ugly and bitter. “If you cared about that girl at all, you wouldn’t do this. Do you really think her little startup is going to survive without my investment?”
“Cassidy has already surpassed our wildest expectations,” I reply coolly. “And with my help on the business side, she’ll continue to.”
Sheryl barks out a laugh and leans back on the couch. “Oh, so that’s your plan. You’re going to live off of… what, the profits from her little makeup outfit for the rest of your lives? You can kiss that penthouse goodbye, Lark.”
“I’ll be happier in a tiny ramshackle flat with Cassidy for the rest of my life than I ever would’ve been in some mansion with you,” I reply, my voice steady. Sheryl can’t get to me anymore. Her words have no effect. Thanks to Cassidy, I’m finally free.
I reach into my bag and pull out a folder. Then I set it on the table between us, in full view of the counselor. “Divorce papers,” I say. “I’ve already signed. They give you full control of the company. The only stipulation is that you release your shares of Cassidy’s business to me.” I’ve done the math. It’s a drop in the bucket compared to our other investments. Don’t get me wrong, Cassidy’s star is on the rise, but some of our clients we’ve had for years, and their big-name businesses rake in millions.
Sheryl would have to be an idiot not to take this deal. And my ex might be many things, but she’s not stupid.
Her eyes narrow. “What’s the catch, Lark?”
“No catch.” I spread my hands wide. Glance at the therapist as a witness. “This is what you wanted. So I’m offering it. That’s all.”
The counselor watches us both. “It does seem like this arrangement would cover the stipulations and concerns you’ve raised in here before,” she says after a moment, looking at Sheryl.
“But…” Sheryl splutters. Then bites her lower lip, clearly fuming. “I’ll have to have my lawyers look it over,” she says a moment later, more calmly, once she has her frustration under control.
“That sounds sensible,” the counselor speaks up. “Lark, would you agree to that?”
“Of course.” I push off the couch. “But I’ll need an answer by the end of the week, Sheryl. Otherwise, I’m taking this to court. And I don’t think either of us want this to get any messier than it’s already been.”