Page 7 of Loyal
Loyal.
Only when my daughter drives off do I turn to look at him. He’s leaning against his bike, arms crossed over his chest, staring at me with desire and something that might be longing.
I know I should cut things off with him. We’re both growing too attached, but at the same time he’s the only bright thing in my life. He makes me feel, something I didn’t think was possible after my ex. Anytime I think of him, I can’t help but smile, and it’s a problem.
I could always tell him we should define what we are. Get together for real instead of just hooking up whenever we get a moment alone. He has been hinting that he wants that.
Before the idea can take root, I push it aside.
He’s young and has his whole life ahead of him. He doesn’t need to be with someone like me. I mean, I am a decade older than him. What would people think? They would be more likely to think he was my daughter’s boyfriend than mine.
No, it’s best we keep it casual. A dirty little secret.
Still, the idea has merit. Especially when he looks at me like he is.
Instinctively I raise my hand and wave, making him smirk.
He pushes off his bike and takes a step forward right as someone comes to a stop at the curb. When he looks over and frowns, I follow his gaze.
Goddammit. I groan when I see him.
My ex gets out of his car and walks toward me, already glaring.
“You shouldn’t be here,” I say quietly.
“We need to talk,” he snaps.
“No, you know we are only supposed to talk through the parenting app so it’s monitored. If you have something to discuss, put it there.”
“I’m not using some goddamn app to talk to my fucking wife,” he sneers.
“I’m not your wife. We are legally divorced, remember?”
He scoffs. “That piece of paper is bullshit, and you know it. In sickness and in health, remember?”
I take a deep breath and try to push my frustration down. Snapping will only give him what he wants.
“Since you’re here, tell me what you want,” I say, trying to get this over with as soon as possible.
“The child support and alimony are going to be late,” he hisses in a low tone.
Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath. I wish I could say I’m surprised, but I’m not. He’s been late with every payment, and only when my lawyer sends a reminder does he pay.
“Can I ask why?” I ask with a level of calm I don’t feel.
“Because you don’t need it. Farrah told me you aren’t giving it to her,” he growls at me.
I feel the corner of my eye twitch. “Billy, the money doesn’t go to her. It’s used for her living expenses. The last payment I used to pay for her cheer camp.”
“I shouldn’t have to pay you for my daughter,” he snaps. “We have joint custody. Everyone else with this arrangement doesn’t pay for shit.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way, but the judge decided differently. It’s not my fault that you make a ton more money than me and then tried to bankrupt me during the divorce. If you would like to fight it, we could go back to court, and I will be happy to tell the judge once again how you threatened to leave me destitute if I divorced you.”
“I don’t want to go back to court. I didn’t want to leave you destitute. I was trying to get you to see life without me wouldn’t be sustainable. I just want my wife back!” he yells.
Across the street, Old Man Wilson comes out on his porch with a frown already on his face. I feel my cheeks heat from embarrassment.
I hate people knowing my business. By nature I’m a private person but Billy loves the attention. He likes everyone knowing that I’m the bad guy. That I left him and he hates me for it.
