Forgiveness

Whitney

“He said he was sick?” Lisa asks as the manicurist sets her feet in a small bubbling tub.

Getting pedicures together has become our weekly routine since Mark and I split up. One of the many luxuries about being newly single is that I get to vent to my best friend in public about my soon-to-be ex-husband without the fear of stirring town gossip.

It’s exhilarating to think about how something like that used to terrify me. Mark is well-known in Santa Barbara because of Walker Industries. The humiliation of everyone knowing about his affairs used to haunt me.

No longer giving a fuck makes me feel like a queen.

“He said he wasn’t feeling well and left without a goodbye.”

Lisa narrows her eyes. “He was listening by the door.”

I frown. “I didn’t see him in the family room. I think he might have gone outside to listen.”

“Creep.”

The manicurist hovers over my feet, massaging in lotion. I lean back into the cushioned seat and hum. “If he did, I’m glad. The sooner he realizes I’m moving on, the better. We have only two weeks before the Christmas Ball.”

“Speaking of the ball.” Lisa grins. “We should start looking for dresses. I want him to eat his heart out.”

I sigh. “It’s weird… I thought I would, too. When he first locked me into this agreement, I thought it would be satisfying to force him to see how well I’m doing. I saw it as his punishment for manipulating me.”

“Are you saying it’s not satisfying? Because it’s the most entertainment I get every week.”

I shut my eyes as the manicurist massages the ball of my foot and sends pleasant tingles up my leg. “It’s not anymore. It’s just sad. He’s really not doing well.”

“Good. Don’t feel guilty. It’s not your fault he threw away your marriage. Don’t let anything get in the way of your self-care.”

I smile. “Speaking of self-care, I’ve added a new item to my list.”

Her eyes grow wide. “What is it?”

I glance down at my manicurist, and her eyes are fixed on my feet. What do I care if she’s listening? There’s no reason to be shy about these things anymore.

I’m becoming a new woman.

“I’m planning on…having sex. Soon.”

Lisa squeals. “Yes! Finally. Stephen must be getting sick of coffee dates.”

She’s probably right about that. It’s been a whole month since he officially quit being my divorce lawyer. After some mild flirtation during one of our meetings, he told me he had an unconventional request. He asked if he could refer me to another excellent lawyer so that there wouldn’t be a conflict of interest if he asked his client out on a date. He said it with a sweet little smile, but I got the sense he was nervous.

He likes me. I can feel it every time we’re around each other.

I wince. “I’m not sure if I can do it with Stephen. I like him too much. I’m afraid I might be too self-conscious.”

“So you’re planning on having sex with a random guy? You really think that will make you less self-conscious?”

“This polish, please.” I hand my manicurist the deep-red bottle before turning to Lisa. “I do. I’ve gotten a flood of texts since Mark and I announced our separation. It wouldn’t be difficult to find someone, and I think I’ll be able to let loose with someone I don’t care about. I really just need to get laid.”

She giggles. “I support any form of getting laid, but it should be Stephen. Just my two cents. The sex would be better since you really like him.”

“Probably, but I don’t need spectacular sex. I just need to get this over with.”

Lisa turns to me, a mischievous smile quirking at her lips. “Mark will lose his ever-loving mind if he finds out.”

“He won’t find out.”

“Oh yes, he will. He’s a psychopath when it comes to you. I’ll bet you anything that the first thing he did after he eavesdropped yesterday was hire a private investigator.”

My skin grows hot. Oh God, I just want this all to be over. Even though I know he deserves all of this, I can’t stand seeing him in pain.

I somehow manage a lazy shrug. “Maybe I can get another ten-million-dollar home out of it.”

Lisa turns to me with an open-mouth grin. “Look at you! Stone cold fox. I seriously used to fantasize about the day you’d make Mark Walker pay for everything he’s done.”

“So did I. I can’t believe I’m actually doing it. Or that he actually cares this much.”

“I always knew he would lose his mind when you left him. He was always—”

My phone chimes, and Lisa’s eyes grow wide. “Stephen!” she says, reading the name on the screen. “You have to let me read it if it’s good.”

My stomach flutters. What is this? It seems serious, and so far we’ve kept our coffee conversations fairly light. In the three dates we’ve had, the deepest we’ve gotten is talking about the strangeness of dating again after divorce.

“What did he say?” Lisa asks.

“He says he has a question for me.”

“Ooh,” she hums. “Maybe he wants to get laid too.

A moment later, another text appears.

My pulse speeds up. “He just asked me on a real date.”

“Whitney!” Lisa squeezes my arm. “This is a sign. He needs to be the one to give you your first post-divorce sex. Don’t pick a random guy. Think of everything he gave up just to date you. A man like that will probably worship you in bed.”

My stomach flips over at the thought. She’s right. She’s absolutely right. Mark and I have a lot of assets, and Stephen forgo his commission just for the opportunity to get to know each other. It’s wonderful being wanted for a change.

I can do this.

I smile at Lisa. “I have three weeks to prepare for my first post-divorce sex.”