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Jameson Riley is the guy Tyler drives a car for. He’s a big shot NASCAR driver and comes into our tiny town once a year. It’s crazy the crowd he draws in.

I wouldn’t think she’d have any rights, but I’m no expert on property law or estates. Dad’s right. Ridge hates his mother for what she did, and I doubt he’s forgiven her.

“Tyler gets into town next weekend.”

I groan. “Great. Just in time for him to tell me how bad my life is. I bet he’s going to be super proud of his little sister.”

“He’ll probably have something to say to dickbag.” Dad chuckles and slaps Mom’s ass when she walks by him. So cute, yet so disturbing.

My parents don’t like Austin. They never have. The day of my wedding, my dad got drunk and refused to walk me down the aisle until I gave him one good reason as to why I wanted to marry him. That was the day I told him I was pregnant.

“Dad, don’t saydickbag.” I stand up and wrap my arms around Mom from behind and kiss her. “Last week Cash called someone a cocksucker, and I know where he got it from. Just because you’re in your sixties now doesn’t mean you can get away with teaching my boys cuss words.”

“I’m not teaching them anything. They hear it from you.”

Probably some truth to those words.

“Hey, Aly, the bakery in town is looking for someone to work the morning shift. If you’re looking for something to do while the boys are in school.”

Let’s pause for two minutes. Or five. My mom means well, but she and Tori are afraid I’m going to turn into the crazy cat lady since the divorce. They’re constantly trying to fill my days with either work or activities.

I didn’t go to college. I know, horrible. I couldn’t. I was raising kids, and Austin didn’t want them in daycare, so I stayed home with them. A couple times a week I helped out at Jacob Law, but once I found out about the cheating, I stopped showing up. Didn't even give my two-weeks’ notice.

I wanted to go to college and maybe get a degree, but once I got pregnant, it wasn’t in my future. Having helped my brother land sponsors for his race car when I was younger, I originally wanted to go into marketing.

Now that I’m alone—still thinking about becoming a cat lady—I think I need a job. Just something while the boys are in school, and it doesn’t even need to pay that much. This would be perfect. I wouldn't have to be at work until after I dropped the boys off, and I could still get off in time to get them after school.

I don’t have a lot of expenses. House? Paid for. It was my parents and they gave it to Austin and me as a wedding gift. Crazy right? I’ll forever be grateful for everything my parents have done and continue to do for me.

I have to work though. I can’t sit at home and do nothing with my stray cats. Or can I?

All right, back to my she-means-well mother. “Oh yeah, I’ll stop by there tomorrow.”

Dad stands, kissing my cheek. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to go check on the fence. Trouble said it looked like shit.”

Trouble? That means he saw him this morning. I want to grab his face and ask him if he said anything about me, but I know I won’t. I’m not that brave.

I don’t say a word, but the glance my dad gives me indicates that was meant to draw my attention toward the fact that Ridge is home.

Mom and I laugh, but the moment he’s out the door, she’s giving me the look. The one only daughters understand. It’s the one where she knows me, the struggles I’m facing. . . all of it. It doesn’t matter that her and my dad have quite possibly the perfect marriage. . . she gets this.

My mom. . . she understands why I keep questioning what I did wrong. What did I do that led to this?

I’m almost certain every woman out there goes into her wedding day thinking her marriage will last. Unless you’re a mail order bride. Then I think you’re praying for the dude to drop dead.

The ones who wanted to get married and spent their entire childhood dreaming about the day, they don’t say to themselves, damn, this is going to end in a lengthy legal and custody battle, and I’m going to eventually hate him so much just the mention of his name will send my stomach churning.

Mom’s hands frame my face, eyes searching. “Are you okay, honey?”

I shake my head, tears surfacing and my brand-new outlook going out the window. “No. Brie showed up at the school this morning, and I may or may not have committed a felony by taking a bat to her car.”

Mom’s eyes widen. “Did you really?”

I nod, slightly ashamed.

“It’s going to be all right.”

I roll my eyes. “How can you say that? Your life is perfect.”