Page 189

You can’t punch this chick.I actually tell myself that. “What are you talking about?”
“Are you happy?”
“No.” I snort. “I’m pissed off my wife isn’t here and she’s not answering her phone. Again.”
The lady taps her pen against a note pad on her lap. “What brought the two of you here?”
I look out the window. “She wants a divorce.”
“And you don’t?”
“No, I don’t. I love my wife.” I can’t sit here anymore and not know where Madison is.
I’m just about to leave when she glances down at her watch. “You’re going to have to re-schedule for tomorrow.”
Standing, I level Judge Judy a glare. “Fine.”
I look for my wife everywhere I can think to and find her at the last place I would have expected. The bar.
I’m pissed by the time I finally spot her, and that’s when I see Madison sitting at a table with guess who.
Thomas.
Her fucking ex. Remember? The guy she cheated on with me?
Oh, well maybe I didn’t tell you that. But she did. That night at the Halloween party she had been dating Thomas Dean. And let’s just be honest here, what kind of name is Thomas Dean?
Sounds like Harvard law students name. Ridley Cooper, that’s a fucking man’s name.
Do you see them sitting there? She’s leaned in, listening intently to his words and he’s acting like he’s what, pouring his heart out to her?
Let’s just focus on the fact they look pretty fucking cozy, don’t they? Aren’t they cute?
If you say yes right now, I’ll punch you.
Thomas Dean spots me first and gives me a head nod like we’re old friends. We wouldneverbe friends. Most of the time I’d never give much thought to an ex because let’s face it, he’s gone from the picture and in this instance, she left him for me. Win for me, right?
Now I’m not so sure because of the impending doom of the D word.
As soon as Madison spots me standing near the door, she literally jumps up from the table rattling the glasses of water. “I was just going to find you.”
Sure she was. Doesn’t look like it to me judging by the drink in front of her. And the two empty ones beside them. Madison doesn’t drink. Ever. Her dad was a raging piece-of-shit alcoholic who used to beat the crap out of her mom. And you met her mother. In fear she may have a drinking problem, she never touches alcohol.
Stepping forward, I make my way over to them. I want to say something funny and not let on how pissed I am, but I don’t. I’ve got nothing. My sense of humor and smart-ass remarks desert me like a cabby when you don’t have the fare. “Did you forget we have a counseling session? Looks like you did, huh?” I motion to the drinks on the table.
“Oh my God.” Her hand flies to her mouth. “I’m so sorry, Ridley. I ran into Thomas after my massage and we got to chatting, and I lost track of time. Will they let us reschedule?”
“No.” Do you sense the sarcasm in my tone?
So does Madison when her eyelashes flicker like she can’t believe I’m being this harsh with her in front of someone else. “So you’re drinking now?”
“It’s water. Thomas was having a beer.”
Of all the fucking times to see this Thomas dude, it’s now, and I want to knock his goddamn teeth in. Usually I’d say, this guy doesn’t matter. But he does. He fucking does and I know it.
I nod, shaking my head with a patronizing smirk plastered on my face. “Uh-huh.”
The waitress approaches me. “Can I get you something?”