Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 121054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 605(@200wpm)___ 484(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 605(@200wpm)___ 484(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Sundays were fun. Emma and Michael still made it out to see us in the evening, and now that Mom was with us, it reminded me of the big family lunches we’d had at my grandmother’s house when I was growing up. Mom even came beforehand and helped Neil cook, though I don’t think he was as touched by the arrangement as I was.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t be more comfortable just sitting back and relaxing, Rebecca?” His smile was so tight it looked like his face would crack.
Looking up from the kitchen table, I mouthed, “Be nice,” exaggerated enough that he could see it from across the room. He gave me a stern, long-suffering roll of his eyes.
“You know what?” Mom asked, still chopping the green pepper into irregular sized pieces.
Neil hated that, and I had to roll my lips over my teeth and clamp down to keep from laughing at his agitated glares at the cutting board.
Mom gestured with her knife. “I was thinking that on Thursday I should come into the city with you, Sophie. Have lunch, maybe do some shopping while you work.”
“Yeah, sounds like fun,” I agreed readily.
Neil looked up from the roast he was expertly tying and met my eyes with renewed annoyance. After his initial relief at learning about Stephen’s book had worn off, he’d been grumpy as hell, but he wouldn’t admit it. I ignored it, because it felt like the most supportive choice. He turned his attention back to the meat. “You can’t on Thursday. We’re meeting the lawyer.”
A cold chill skated down my arms, and I pulled my cardigan tighter around my midsection. Whether out of spite or carelessness, Neil had opened a can of worms.
“You guys are going to see a lawyer?” Mom turned to each of us in turn, as perplexed as if he had said, “We’re going to the North Pole to visit Santa.” “What do you need a lawyer for?”
“For the prenuptial agreement, of course,” he said with malicious cheer.
He knew what he was doing. He wasn’t just opening a can of worms. He was exploding a bait bucket full of nasty, wriggly night crawlers all over our dinner.
“Oh.” Mom pursed her lips and set her knife down. Neil, pick it up. Get it out of her reach before she stabs you.
I’d have to smooth things over before anyone said anything else. “Yeah, well, you know. Neil has his assets, and I have mine. We’re doing a smart thing.”
“Please, Sophie. Do you really believe he’s doing this to protect your assets?”
I knew my mom’s opinion of prenups. They were for people who intended to get divorced and intended to screw each other out of a fair deal.
And Neil didn’t bother to defend himself. He was just trying to pick a fight.
“If Neil and I were to split up, I wouldn’t want much from him, anyway. We’ve got things divided up in a way that’s fair to me.” I bent my wrist and waved my arm in dismissal. “It’s not a big deal, because we’re not going to split up.”
“Then, why is it necessary?” Mom demanded.
Finally, Neil jumped in. “I’ve been divorced before, Rebecca. Without a prenup, it would have been far uglier than it was.”
Mom turned shocked eyes to me. “And you’re really okay with this, Sophie?”
“Of course I am. I’m marrying a guy who owns two media corporations. I own a magazine that he’s put a lot of money into, even if he’s not an official investor. I need to protect my interests, too.” I sighed in frustration. “And I don’t want people to think I’m in this just for the money—”
Mom threw up her hands. “So, if in five or ten years he leaves you, you’d just move out and get nothing?”
Neil made a lot more noise than necessary putting the roast in the oven. “There is a clause for spousal support in the agreement,” he said, his tone flat.
“Yeah. I’m not going to be hurting financially if we divorce. And I’d be hurting more emotionally, anyway.” My chest ached. Why the hell did Neil bring this up? Why now? We were supposed to be having a nice family Sunday, and he was picking a fight?
Mom was not moved. She made a disgusted noise and walked away from the island.
“Where are you going?” I called after her.
She was at the back door before she answered. “I’m disappointed in you, Sophie. And, right now, I don’t want to be around him.”
After the door closed behind her, I expected Neil to say something. He just turned and rinsed his hands at the bar sink then dried them with a paper towel. He wouldn’t even make eye contact with me.
I could only stand my angry silence for so long. “What the hell was that?”
He shrugged and started dicing the peppers Mom had abandoned. “It was your mother, grossly overreacting.”