The Fling

5

"Does this look good?" I asked my best friends after they came to my room.

"Good? No. It looks great!" Mia squealed. "Where'd you get that dress?"

I was wearing a little black dress with a pair of strappy heels. "This is from college, but I haven't fit into it since I had Hannah. Does that make it vintage?"

"Shut. Up. Sometimes you talk like we're already in our forties and it makes me want to smack you," El scowled.

"When your husband cheats on you with a twenty year old and then marries her after you divorce, you end up feeling ancient."

Mia stomped her foot on the ground. "I hate Bert so much. One day that little gold digger is going to leave him for someone younger."

"And richer," Eloise added. "You know she's livid about the great settlement you got. She thought that money was hers."

I got the house, my car, and a hefty alimony payment, which I would receive monthly unless I remarried. There was also substantial child support for Hannah and Bertie, though I was putting most of that in their savings accounts.

The alimony was enough that I didn't have to find a better paying job for now. Currently, I worked part-time from home as a textbook proof reader. Educational publishers sent me manuscripts, and I went over them with a fine tooth comb, making sure the grammar, spelling, and syntax were perfect. I'd majored in English at UCLA, so this was at least related to my degree, though eventually I hoped to get back into writing, which had always been my dream.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand, and when I picked it up, I saw that Lizzie sent a bunch of photos from their first day at The Magic Kingdom. Bertie and Hannah met tons of characters and were clearly having a joyous time. We went to Disneyland every six months or so, but Orlando was a completely different experience.

My ex-in-laws called me earlier when I was between scream therapy and a hot rock massage. They obviously weren't going to bad-mouth their only child, but the tone they each used when discussing the wedding revealed their disapproval. When the affair came out, they'd begged Bert to go into marriage counseling with me, which I'd been open to. I wanted to save our marriage because even though he'd hurt me, I loved him and the family we created. He refused.

Gina had to step out on the balcony for privacy to tell me that both kids had a few tearful episodes at the reception, but they'd managed to soothe them. Lizzie helped with this, which meant she probably hid her own negative feelings from her younger siblings- something I would do. It was funny how like me she was, even if we didn't share any DNA.

I talked to my kiddos during this phone call, and they told me about the wedding from their perspective, focusing primarily on the cake and the dancing instead of their dad and his new wife. I knew from family therapy that avoiding hurtful topics was common with children. Hannah cried as we were saying goodbye, which was difficult for me, but seeing Lizzie's pics proved that she'd bounced back.

"Let's take a photo since we look gorg," I told the girls. "I'll send it to Lizzie."

We posed and took the shot, and I was pleased with how cute I looked. I'd been in individual therapy for over a year, and one of the topics I circled back to frequently was how I blamed myself for our marriage falling apart. I'd gained a lot of baby weight, and Bert told me bluntly during a huge fight that it was one reason he'd cheated. Obviously this was not a valid excuse, but it hurt. After he moved out, I bought a Peloton, started eating healthier, and now I was the fittest I'd ever been.

"Did you tell Lizzie who is at the resort?" El asked.

"No. I'll tell her later." Did I feel a smidge of guilt for fucking my step-daughter's celebrity crush? Yes. Maybe more than a smidge.