Page 84 of Love Unwritten
Our divorce settlement dictated that on the first of January each year, my ex-wife would receive a lump sum of five hundred thousand dollars to cover her yearly expenses and child support.
I could fight her on the child support payment since she hardly spends any time with Nico, but I consider it well-spent hush money. Neither one of us wants her to follow through with the court’s split-custody agreement, so funding her expensive lifestyle is a small price to pay for Nico’s well-being and my sanity.
Even if it puts me in the foulest mood for a day or two.
My inbox chimes from a new email three minutes later.
URGENT: Request for Increased Spousal and Child Support.
“So much for today being a good day.”
The dark cloud over my head churns when Nico and Ellie show up three hours later, laughing themselves hoarse as they walk into the suite with a trail of sand in their wake.
I try my best to fake a smile, but it falls flat.
“Are you okay?” my son asks with a big frown.
“Yup.” I shut my laptop and turn in my chair. “How was the beach?” My question was supposed to sound light and carefree, but it comes out stilted instead.
Nico’s shoulders slump. “You never showed up.”
“A few things came up that I needed to fix.” Like your mother manipulating me into funding her shopping addiction and wannabe hedge-fund manager boyfriend.
“Okay. Whatever,” he says with a bit more bite in his tone.
Ellie gives his shoulder a squeeze. “Maybe we can all spend time together now? What do you think?”
“I’m tired.” Nico walks into his room and shuts the door softly.
Ellie’s mouth twists. “I texted you asking when you were showing up, but you didn’t answer.”
“I was busy,” I snap.
She doesn’t even flinch. “He was really looking forward to today. He didn’t stop asking about you—”
“If I wanted to know, then I would have asked.”
She stumbles back a step, as if my words physically injured her.
What I want is to punch myself in the mouth. Actually, screw the mouth. A good kick to the balls is what I deserve for a comment like that.
“So that’s how it’s going to be, huh?” Her brows rise along with her voice.
“Shit. I’m just angry, but that isn’t an excuse for talking like—”
She silences me with a single slice of her hand through the air. I’ve seen Ellie upset and frustrated, but I’ve never seen her look at me like she wants to flay me alive.
“I’m not interested in hearing another one of your apologies because, clearly, you don’t mean any of them.” Her brows pinch together. “For someone who can be such a nice guy sometimes, you sure don’t have any trouble reverting to being an asshole, which is making me question who the real Rafael is.”
“Elle, I—”
She softens for a second before her gaze hardens again. “You know what my biggest issue with your apologies is?”
“What?”
“I don’t trust them.” Like Nico, Ellie disappears into her room, leaving me alone to handle the nuclear-level fallout of my poor choices.
After upsetting Ellie and Nico, I spend the rest of the day in my bedroom, discussing alimony and child support with my lawyer while stewing in self-loathing. In painful summary, unless Hillary gets married again to someone else, I’m stuck paying for her lifestyle, whether I like it or not.