Chapter 11

“I am a divorce lawyer, yes,” Daniel says as he bites into his hamburger.

We’re sitting in the middle of a restaurant during the dinner rush, having this conversation after I’ve been stressing all day. Daniel is enjoying his hamburger and fries, but I barely touch my own burger. Anxiety has been making me nauseous for several days.

I’ve even puked a few times, which I’ve kept to myself.

“But.” Daniel is still talking. “I’m not very experienced. Our firm just started handling divorce cases earlier this year.”

Maybe that’s why Ryan hasn’t approached Daniel’s firm.

He seems a bit ashamed and embarrassed to have very little information. But the thing is, it doesn’t matter to me. All I care about is making this divorce process horrible for Ryan and getting what is rightfully mine.

I nod at the young man, letting a long sigh of relief escape my body. “Great. I want to hire you to handle my divorce case then,” I say sincerely.

“Hold on.” Daniel pauses. “You…you’re not divorced yet?”

Immediately, the young lawyer’s face turns deep red. He clenches his fists so hard that juices start to fall from the burger. Is he just an embarrassed guy, or is there something else going on here?

I kind of deceived him, in a way. I hadn’t been completely honest with him in our first few conversations. But at the same time, how fast would Daniel have bolted out the door of the bar if I told him the truth?

“Oh, my best friends perked up my boobs, made me look younger, and I left out the point of still being married. You know how it goes.”

But I don’t say any of that. Instead, I sit back in the chair and look for the right words to give. If we are going to work together, it’s time to get serious and tell the whole truth.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t explain clearly earlier,” I insist. “This whole process and the fact it came out of nowhere has made everything very stressful and tiring.”

Daniel puts his burger back on the plate, picks up his napkin, and wipes his hands and face. He looks to be searching his mind for the right thing to say.

“No,” he responds, sighing into his plate. “Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault you’re dealing with this bastard trying to take everything from you.”

I can’t help but give him a sad smile, genuinely happy to hear him understand my plight. “Thank you, you don’t know how much you’re helping me.”

I reach across the table and touch his arm, trying to convey my genuine appreciation. I’m not normally an overly affectionate person. But his desire to help means the world to me.

Daniel nods approvingly. “Of course.”

I pull my hand away, nervously laughing at my situation. This is just getting out of hand.

We finish our meal together, and Daniel gives me his work email.

“Contact me here. Send me the financial information we discussed, and I’ll start on it first thing Monday morning. I’ll talk to my boss as well, and we’ll set everything into motion.”

“Great,” I sigh.

“We’ll do everything we can,” Daniel reassures me, and I give him another thank you, handing him my own business card in return.

We part ways, and I head back to the new apartment to sleep. Finally, we’ve reached the weekend, and I’m utterly exhausted. I need to catch up on sleep as best I can.

I go to bed early with a glass of red wine and a book I’ve been meaning to read. It’s so nice and quiet, and I find myself shocked by one fact.

I don’t miss Ryan, even a little bit.

At some point during the book and the wine, I fell asleep with the light still on.

I don’t know how long I’ve been in bed, but I do know one thing: the sound that wakes me immediately makes me tense and jump out of bed.

I blink a few times, looking around to make sure I didn’t dream it.

But the noise comes again, and I identify it as the sound of my little neighbors.

Tris and Bea.

I rub the sleep from my eyes and head to the door to make sure everyone is okay.

When I see the sight before me, I can’t help but give the little ones a smile. “Good morning,” I say, seeing Derek standing to the side.

What I miss at first glance, though, is Derek’s look of helplessness.

Tris, the younger daughter, is sitting on the ground in front of my door, crying her head off.

“Esme,” Derek sighs. “I’m so sorry to wake you. I didn’t mean to disturb your sleep—” The man stops in the middle of his sentence, his gaze seemingly drifting from my collar.

As though his eyes are sending true daggers into my skin, a hot, sparkling string of fire penetrates my skin.

Subconsciously, I tighten the collar of my sleep shirt. Am I not dressed appropriately? Is he looking at me as though I’ve just stumbled into the office out of bed?

Well, that’s not possible. It’s the weekend, after all. Derek can’t tell me to change.

“How about you ask what’s wrong?!” My brain screams.

“Tris, come on, sweetheart,” Derek is saying when I zone back into the conversation.

“No! It’s ugly!” She shouts in her small voice. “I hate this one!”

I bend down to look at the four-year-old crying large tears. “What are you talking about? You look beautiful!”

“I look ugly! I don’t want to wear it!”

I look back up at her father, looking for a bit more information.

“She hates the bathing suit Daddy picked out,” Bea says, appearing from around her father’s legs.

“Ugly!” Tris yells again.

“She doesn’t want to leave the house,” her sister informs me.

“We were just trying to go up to the apartment pool, and I got her dressed just to be met with a screaming fest,” Derek explains quickly.

I can’t help but smile a little wider. Oh, the life of being a girl who worries about her outfits. It’s genuinely cute, and the bathing suit isn’t that bad…

I stand back up, raising a brow. “If you want,” I start. “I can take Tris back inside to pick out a better suit?”

Derek seems surprised. “What? Really?”

“I can’t want to help my neighbor and his little girls? It’s no problem, and I’d love to help.”

Being around these two girls makes me feel like I have daughters of my own. It reminds me just how much I wanted to have kids. But I know that ship has already sailed.

“Alright then,” Derek nods. “Have Tris show you where the clothes are.”

“Got it. You and Bea go up to the pool. I’ll bring her there shortly.”

Tris has stopped crying at my offer, standing up quickly and grabbing my hand to drag me into their home.

“Come look!” she giggles, the sadness quickly morphed off her face.

I go into the bedroom decorated for two little girls, and Tris shows me their closet. To my surprise, there are a lot of clothes in here. I’m so shocked that the girls have an entire wardrobe, but the issue immediately makes sense.

Most of the clothes in the closet are flowery, but I can tell a man definitely chose these outfits. It’s very masculine in here, and Tris’ outburst adds up.

As I start sifting through the different bathing suits that are the size of the four-year-old, I hear her start to giggle. I whip my head around, at first fearful she’s doing something bad. But she just giggles into her hand.

“Daddy peeks,” she explains to my fearful face.

“What?” I ask her, stunned and unsure where this conversation is going.

Tris smirks wider and says, “he peeks at your boob!”