Page 78 of Forbidden Property

Our law firm is one of the most successful in Buffalo. We pull in over $2.3 million a year. After expenses, we each get about $425,000 a year plus we have shares in the company. Untangling myself from Kennard will lead to the world’s messiest divorce. I’m going to be sick to my stomach from this.

Anisa arrives at my office in her silver Buick Encore without me having to wait too long downstairs. The entire world feels off-center, like I walked into a parallel world where my worst fears came true. Anisa’s presence soothes me, but only slightly. I approach the passenger side door and just stand there until she rolls the window down, stunned into that silent shock.

“Girl! Get in the car,” Anisa says, her vibrancy breaking through my numbness. “You can’t go to jail, but I have no problems beating a side bitch’s ass!”

I hold my purse tightly against my lap as if it could protect me from the inevitable. My life is falling apart. We had a new paralegal interview next week together with that local applicant Geralynn Taviani, what’s going to happen with that?

Anisa can’t stop cursing Kennard down on the long drive to our house. They’re there right now, according to my private investigator because this is the time when my husband has his weekly “meeting” with the woman that he’s secretly fucking. I’m going to be sick just thinking about it, although in a short space of time I’m getting closer and closer to accepting it.

My best friend’s ranting helps, strangely enough. “I can’t believe that ain’t shit motherfucker would have the balls to take his side bitch to your house. Do you think they fucked in the bed? Wait… Do I need to go to Dick’s and get a baseball bat?”

“No! We’re not going to get away with bludgeoning him to death.”

“Who said anything about death? I was an LPN for two years, I know how to land a few good hits…”

My soon-to-be ex-husband was the star tight end at our Division III university. Not the best football player in the world, but certainly big and strong enough that he could whip Anisa and a baseball bat around his head with relative ease. I don’t want to kill her enthusiasm for punishing my husband.

I just need us to find a better way to do it that doesn’t land us in jail. Nonviolent confrontation is the best way and then I can get all my good licks in right there in the courtroom… even if Kennard fights and lies through his teeth the way I know he’s more than willing to do to get ahead.

I convince Anisa to pursue nonviolent communication by the time we get to my place. Kennard’s car is parked outside, next to a car that I don’t recognize… A Kia Soul with a bumper sticker on the back that says “Kids up in this bitch!” inside of a yellow “caution” triangle. My stomach sinks. Anisa makes a noise when she sees the bumper sticker.

“I know this is not the trifling hoe your man is cheating with.”

“Maybe we should turn around.”

Anisa grips my arm so tightly that I freeze in place, allowing her fingers to sink in.

“We aren’t goinganywhere,” Anisa hisses. “You are going to confront Kennard Plant andget that man out of your house.”

Our house. We’ve lived together for over a decade. I can’t remember the last time I did a load of laundry without throwing in a few pairs of his socks or a couple t-shirts. Tears form at the back of my eyes. It’s over. It doesn’t matter what I did for that man or what type of past we had together. He threw it all away for his young, blond secretary.

I don’t want to go in there and rip my life apart. But if I don’t… I won’t be able to live with myself.

“Let’s do it,” I say to Anisa, holding back a scream and a sigh. “Let’s go confront my cheating ass husband.”

…Aricia’s story will continue in Book #4

The End