Mr. Smithfield - Louise Bay Page 0,12

and the woman I’d thought I was going to spend the rest of my life building a family with. When she’d walked out nearly three years ago, I’d been devastated, blindsided. Heartbroken that our family was shattering into pieces and that Bethany had been left without a mother.

Now I was just numb.

“Her lawyers have sent over the paperwork to start off the divorce proceedings.”

It wasn’t pain I felt exactly. More the memory of pain. A bruise reminding me what had happened; a shadow that would never fully disappear.

“Good,” I replied. “If I hadn’t been so busy, I would have started the process before now.” She’d filed for a legal separation almost immediately after leaving, but this was the first I’d heard about divorce. “What does she want?” I asked. My father’s money had made me a wealthy man. But Bethany was the most valuable part of my life. One, she was welcome to. The other, I’d fight to the death to protect.

“Nothing,” Gillian said.

Relief swept through me. She could have had the money. She must have known that. She could have had enough never to work again. But she didn’t want anything? It was the best possible outcome for me. It also added a layer of clarity. She’d never seen our family the way I had, never loved our daughter the way I did. She couldn’t have. Otherwise, she would have never walked away. But I should have learned that lesson already. I knew some people weren’t capable of loving their children in a way they needed. I just wished I’d realized Penelope was that kind of person before I’d married her.

“Good. Well, get it done.”

“I’ll courier a document over for signing.”

I hung up and dialed a familiar number. “Gordon, the Globe-Wernicke piece that I looked at a month or so ago. Is it still available?”

“The bookshelf you said needed too much work?”

I ignored him. “Is it still available?”

“I sold it yesterday. I’m due to ship it out this afternoon.”

“I’ll double whatever they paid. Have it delivered to the house in the next hour.”

“Absolutely,” Gordon replied.

I’d bought a number of interesting pieces of furniture from Gordon over the years. He had a great eye. Best of all, he was a man of few words.

My next call was to Mike. I wasn’t in the mood for his bullshit, and I was going to bring the fight to him.

“Mike, did you see the agreement?” I asked when he answered.

“I’ve just finished going through it. It’s outrageous. I can’t believe they’ve asked for a retention and there’s no—”

“Nothing they’ve asked for is unreasonable. Other than a correction on a tax issue, this document is signable.”

Mike started his usual expletive-ridden tirade I’d endured during every other phone call I had with him. I ran through my emails and ignored him. When he quietened, I turned back to the phone.

“It’s a waste of our time and your money to argue these points. The cost outweighs the gain.”

“I don’t care. If they’ve offered this deal, we can get better—”

“No, Mike. They’ve offered this deal because they don’t want to fight over non-material issues for the next week, only to end up exactly where this draft puts us. If you want to negotiate this contract any further, then you need to do it yourself or get another lawyer.

Silence filled the cab before Mike chuckled, his furious mood seemingly having passed. “You’re refusing instructions?”

“If you won’t take my advice, there’s no point in us continuing like this.” For the last year, I’d put up with Mike’s demands and outbursts and I was at the end of my tether. I’d been through the terrible twos with Bethany, and it felt as if I were back there with Mike. The difference with a toddler was that they grew out of the phase. I’d accepted Mike’s attitude to keep the work coming in, but I was done. I was an excellent lawyer who gave great advice. If he didn’t see that, then he could go elsewhere. That might get me fired from the firm, but if I could survive Penelope walking out on our family when Bethany was just a year old, I could survive anything.

“You really think this is as good as we can get?” Mike asked, his voice bristling at the edges.

“I do. And you know it’s fair. It’s what we both thought you’d end up with.”

“I suppose that’s true.”

I didn’t try to convince him. Mike knew I was right.

“Okay. Let’s get it done. This way I suppose it