The Doll | 18+ Only [Complete]

Chapter 2: The Struggles of a Single Mother

—  One Week Later —

"Fuck!" I exclaim slamming my fist down on the counter. I frown deeply as I glare down at the document clutched in my palm.

My teeth were grinding together in irritation, and I knew I had to tamper down on my fury before I went ballistic.

Grabbing the phone from off the table I quickly dial a number before pressing the phone to my ear.

"Hello? Jones office please." I snap curtly to the woman on the other end.

"Can I have a name?" She asks, and I sigh in frustration as I clutch unto my forehead impatiently.

"It's Alice Sutherland. Please get Mr Jones on the line, let him know it's urgent!" I near growl at the woman on the other end.

"One moment please." She mutters before putting me on hold. I roll my eyes and turn, crossing my arm over my chest.

My eyes clap unto the doll laid propped up against the wall where Matthew had left it yesterday after hours of playing with the thing.

It's unnerving blue eyes pierce into my soul and sends a cold chill up my spine. I turn away from its creepy, dead stare almost instantly feeling a sense of unease.

"Damn Doll..." I mutter under my breath, as I kept the phone pressed firmly to my ear.

"Hello, Ms Sutherland." The familiar voice of my divorce lawyer echoes over the phone.

"Mr Jones, goodday. I just received a letter in the mail from Mr Martin Ruddick. Can you guess what it is?" I ask impatiently, tapping my foot as frustration spreads through me.

"Hm, I think I may have an idea, but I could be wrong..." He mutters uncertainly, and I exhale a long breath in exhaustion, trying to stifle my frustration.

"Well if you're unsure, let me make it simple. This morning, I got a confirmation letter in my mailbox, sealed and stamped by the high courts, that John — my ex-husand, who is also a trained professional at the Burkley law firm, is only required by the state to pay $2000 a month in child support, to help me with Mathew!" I ground out in annoyance.

"Oh dear..." He echoes, and I could almost imagine the dumbfounded look on his face as he sat at his desk.

Jones had been one of the most unreliable persons I've ever had to deal with in a long while, and lately it just seemed like everything was going wrong with my divorce case.

My messy split from my ex-husband was embarassing enough, and dealing with him now trying to rip me off from child support for Matthew was unequivocally infuriating.

"Oh dear? Mr Jones, do you have any idea how expensive it is to provide for a special needs child on a teacher's salary alone?" I bite out, gripping the phone tighter in my palms.

"— Or how expensive it is, to continuously be sending him to speech therapy every month, or to buy him new clothes and shoes every semester with insufficient help from his fucking useless help of a father!?" I nearly scream — breathing heavily, getting more worked up as I vented my frustration to the man on the other end of the line.

I had already commissioned, and paid this man half the deposit for his services, which in itself was a hefty fine — just to enlist his expertise.

Yet here I was, struggling to come to a reasonable agreement with my ex-husband's lawyer that providing for Matthew financially on a single income with little to no help from his colleague was unfair.

That's what you get when you marry a narcissistic lawyer and end up getting divorced, you get cheated out of any support.

"Ms Sutherland, trust me I understand your frustration." Mr Jones's voice pipe up over the speaker and I scoff sardonically at his words.