Hi everyone! Just a quick note - I'm going to be publishing some books on Kindle throughout the year. Mostly non-Wattpad books, but if anyone wants Kindle copies of my Wattpad books, please let me know and I'll make versions for the Kindle store.
Love, Cam
<3
Chapter Nine: Tyler
I have the politest divorce ever
"Nervous?" Simon asked.
"No," I lied, trying not to throw up in my mouth. "So this will be... it? Sorted? Until the divorce?"
"Yes," he replied, his voice solemn. "Are you sure you're alright? Siobhan will kill me if she thinks I've not taken care of you, you know."
I smiled a little at that. I was using my sister's law firm for the divorce proceedings, but she wasn't able to be my lawyer due to the conflict of interest. Simon had been a very efficient lawyer, knowing that Colin and I wanted a very quick separation. That was all we were entitled to for now; we couldn't divorce until we had lived apart for at least two years. This was a separation agreement, which was much the same as a divorce other than the legal side of a marriage.
There was a quick knock at the door, and Tracey, Colin's solicitor, poked her head around the door. "Are you ready for us?"
I nodded, and she entered, with Colin following. He looked tired. A petty part of me thought 'good'.
Once they were seated, Simon smiled and began. "Just to state the obligatory part - this meeting is to complete and sign your separation agreement in preparation for your divorce once the two years separation has been completed. Has everybody reviewed the separation agreement?"
I nodded, and so did Colin and Tracey. "Any issues?" Simon asked the group.
"No," I replied. I had nothing to complain about; I had joint custody of Saskie, with most of her time with me due to not wanting to disrupt her schooling, and we were going to split any profit from the sale of the house. Other than that, we both agreed to live apart and have no intimacy other than that dictated by our joint custody arrangement, until such time as we could divorce.
The agreement was so small, such a thin collection of papers. I signed. Colin signed.
And very suddenly, I was separated from my husband.
Simon and Tracey gave it a moment, and then politely excused themselves. I wondered if it was common, for separation hearings to feel this anticlimactic. I sat on one side of a table, and looked across it at the man I had shared my years with, the man I had raised my daughter with, and saw someone I barely recognised.
"I..." I tried, and found I had nothing to say.
"I'm sorry," Colin said, and met my eyes. His were shining with tears. "I know you don't want to hear it, Tyler, but I love you so very dearly, and I did not want to hurt you. If I could do it over again, I would do it differently."
My mouth twisted into something similar to a smile. "But we would still have wound up here, wouldn't we?"
His face crumpled, and his voice was a whisper. "Yes, I think so."
I nodded, and took a deep breath. "I love you, too. And I want to make this work, for Saskie. I don't ever want her to see us hating each other, or arguing. I don't ever want her to think we don't love her."
Colin nodded fervently. "I agree. And... I don't expect you to ever come to like Andrew, but-"
"I'll make it work," I replied firmly. "If he's sticking around, then I'll make sure Saskie doesn't hate him on my behalf. And I hope the same goes for the future, if I... when I find someone."
"Of course," Colin replied wholeheartedly, and that hurt even more, that he was so unaffected by the thought of me with someone else, sharing my life with someone. For a moment, I wanted to cry, to scream, to demand why he had done this to me.
Then I realised. I didn't want to. All I wanted to do was get out of there, and leave him to his life, and go back to restarting mine.
"When do you move?" he asked suddenly. "You said soon, but..."
"Week after next," I replied, and then cleared my throat. "You'll have Saskie next week, for the whole week before we start preparing to leave. Is that...?"
"That's fine," he nodded, and then suddenly he leaned forwards, and put his head in his hands. I watched his shoulders shake. I'd seen him cry before, but not like this. Not like the whole world was collapsing around him. It was his damn fault. He was the one that cheated. He was the one that found someone he wanted more. He was the one that split up our family.
But he was watching me leave with our daughter to live somewhere else. And it wasn't his fault he'd met Andrew. It didn't make it okay for him to cheat. It didn't make any of this bearable. But it wasn't his fault he fell in love.
I took a deep breath, stood up, walked to his side of the table, and pulled him into my arms. He froze for a second, and then his arms wrapped around my waist and his head fell against my chest, and he cried, and I cried, for everything we had and everything we had lost.
I didn't say anything, once our tears had subsided to sniffles and shaky breaths. I simply kissed him on the top of his head, and left the office. Simon was waiting outside, and with one look at me he simply informed me that he'd send copies of the agreement to both my house and my new address, just in case we moved before they arrived. Then I left.
When I stepped out of the building and into the daylight, the world seemed a little different. Maybe, just maybe, I could see a future where Colin and I could love each other in a different way. A few weeks ago, I wouldn't have been able to see a future where I could hold him and cry and not want to shrink away in revulsion.
"Tyler."
I looked around to see Siobhan rushing out of the office behind me. I frowned. "You okay?"
She looked at me as if I was completely bonkers. "Are you okay?" she asked, exasperated, and then shook her head. "No, of course you're not. Look, let's just go, okay?"
"Don't you have to work?" I asked.
"I took a personal day," she shrugged, and steered me in the direction of town. "I called Sorcha. She's going to look after Saskie today. You're staying at mine tonight. You can get your car in the morning."
"Where are we going?" I asked, allowing myself to be marched along.
"To get a drink," she replied.
I checked my watch. "It's ten thirty in the morning."
"To get some brunch," she amended. "And a drink."
*****
One week and five days later, I was stood outside my art gallery. My art gallery. That I owned. With my best friend. My art gallery.
It still didn't feel real.
"Here," Sorcha said, and dumped a tower of three boxes into my arms. I nearly fell over from the weight of them. Now it felt a little more real.
"Jesus Christ, Sorcha, what's in these?" I asked, and saw 'BOOKS' on the side. The box she was carrying, predictably, was labelled 'PILLOWS'. "Dickhead," I glared at her.
Then I caught sight of my daughter about to run across the road, and grabbed hold of her arm, balancing the boxes precariously against my knee. "Saskie! You are not allowed to cross the road without an adult, you know that!"
"I looked both ways," she grumbled, stubbornly pulling out of my grip. "I'm hot, I don't want to wear my coat."
I fought the urge to groan. She had been in a difficult mood during the entire trip, and I had told her to wait inside while we moved boxes, but she had decided she had to come outside and see what was happening.
"Saskie, keep your coat on," I told her firmly.
"But I want to take it off!" she whined.
"Saskie," I said warningly. "It's been a very long day, and I know you're tired and annoyed, and so am I, but we have to just get these boxes inside and then we can go out to get some lunch. Okay?"
"I don't want to," Saskie said, her voice teetering on the verge of tears. The last thing I needed was a crying fit from her, because I was exhausted and running on fumes and about ten seconds away from a crying fit myself.
"Oh, am I hearing tears?" Sorcha asked, rushing up to us. "Saskie, you crazy girl, keep your coat on – it's freezing out here! We'll go get some food after this, how about doughnuts?"
Saskie paused her oncoming wailing and considered it. "Okay."
I glared at my daughter as she happily clung to Sorcha for a hug. Oh sure, she was the voice of reason in this ridiculous situation. I took a deep breath and reminded myself that all Sorcha had done was not be Saskie's parent. I hitched the boxes back into my arms, and walked into the gallery to deposit them in the pile marked for the living room. I had a feeling that Sorcha had no idea what she'd let herself in for; she'd practically lived out of a single suitcase for the last ten years.
After hauling what felt like twice as many boxes as I'd actually packed into the gallery, I stretched, feeling knots in my shoulders and back. "Right," I said, turning to Sorcha. "Food."
"Food," she agreed, and leaned over to pick Saskie up. "Sask, the café is right around the corner, but you have to be an aeroplane to get there."
"Oh," Saskie giggled, and stuck out her arms. "I'm a plane!"
Sorcha ran around the corner with Saskie, making aeroplane noises. People waved at Sorcha as she passed them, and I was amazed at her ability to make friends in a neighbourhood in a matter of weeks.
"Do you know everyone around here?" I asked her incredulously, as I caught up to them both. She had been out to the gallery a few times since the purchase went through, but I hadn't expected her to make it a social call. I probably should have done; Sorcha was very much a social person.
Sorcha shrugged. "It's probably wise to get to know people; we're going to be here for a while. Don't want the neighbours complaining when we throw wild parties."
I snickered. "Sure, wild parties, with my five-year-old."
Sorcha grinned as we approached a sweet little independent café advertising the 'best doughnuts in Manchester'. I was intending to fully test that claim. Saskie led the way into the café confidently, drawn entirely by the smell of doughnuts, and Sorcha and I dutifully followed her up to the counter.
"There are so many," she said, and I could hear the awe in her voice. She was right; there were dozens of flavours to try and I was ravenous. Saskie, being five, couldn't read many of the labels yet, but she was no fool; she knew what chocolate looked like.
"Chocolate," she pointed a tiny finger at a doughnut the size of my palm, smothered in Nutella. "I want that. What are you picking?"
"I think I'm going to go for honey and pistachio," I mused, entirely planning to secretly buy a box of six to smuggle home and eat by myself. "Sorcha?"
"White chocolate and raspberry," she said, more to the cashier than to me. The man smiled and put together our orders, along with a lemonade for Saskie and two coffees for Sorcha and I. I desperately needed one. And a nap.
I turned around to look for a table, and almost ran directly into a man. I collided with him with a thump and felt a stab of pain through my sore, tender back.
"Sorry," I apologised quickly, although it probably wasn't my fault.
"No, that was my fault, sorry," the man straightened himself up, and then made eye contact with me with a surprised sense of recognition. My brain connected with my eyes at the same moment and I realised the man was Saskie's future teacher, Mr Rose.
"Oh," I said, startled. "Mr Rose. I didn't expect to see you here."
"Me neither," he said, smiling sheepishly at me. It looked oddly incongruous on his sharp, striking features. "I also didn't mean to almost knock you over, I'm sorry."
"It's alright," I smiled, and then remembered I was accompanying my best friend and my daughter, both of whom were watching me expectantly. "I - you remember my friend, Sorcha?"
"Ms Thomas," Mr Rose smiled, inclining his head politely as she beamed at him.
"And this is my daughter, Saskie," I indicated her. Her doughnut-based confidence had evaporated and she was now hiding behind my legs shyly. "Sask, this is Mr Rose, he's going to be your new teacher at the school."
"Hi," she said quietly, and hid further behind my legs. Sorcha laughed and took her hand, picking up our tray with her other hand and leading Saskie over to a sofa in the corner.
"She'll perk up once she gets a doughnut," I told Mr Rose.
"Very relatable," Mr Rose grinned, and then cast a glance over his shoulder. I followed his gaze to where a man was finishing his coffee, looking annoyed. Mr Rose caught me looking, and offered me an apologetic smile. "I, uh, had coffee with a new acquaintance. I can't say it went very well. Different expectations."
I put two and two together and found myself turning a little pink as the 'Mr Rose was on a date with a man' information filed itself neatly away in my brain. "I'm sorry, that must be awkward. If you'd like to make a quick escape-"
"No, that's alright," Mr Rose said hastily, and glanced at the table where Saskie and Sorcha were sat. "I got the paperwork saying that Saskie would be transferring - I was very pleased that you decided to go with our school. I'm looking forward to welcoming her to the class."
"She's a little nervous," I replied. "But she's a confident girl, she'll settle in quickly. She's very talkative, contrary to her current behaviour."
Mr Rose beamed, and I felt as though I was being knocked over again. "Good, I like confident children. Although shy children are also lovely. I think I just love all of my students, really, they're all fantastic kids."
He really did seem to love his students. I knew lots of teachers that adored their students, but I was not one of them. I was proud of a handful of my students, but most of them messed around in class and never took a thing seriously. Teaching children was often a chore for me. Perhaps it was different with young children, who weren't taking your class as an 'easy A' and going through friendship dramas every ten minutes.
"Would you like to join us?" I asked suddenly, surprising myself with the question. "If you'd like to get to know Saskie a little before she joins, I mean."
Mr Rose also seemed surprised by my offer, but he smiled again and said, "I'd love to."
I realised my error in judgement the second we sat down at the table and Sorcha's sharp eyes flicked between us. Mercifully, she didn't say anything about it, just asked Mr Rose how his week had been. Mr Rose answered vaguely and asked her how the move was, and she launched into the tale of our exhausting morning and the sheer volume of boxes awaiting us back at the gallery.
He didn't put Saskie on the spot, just included her every so often in his questions. He'd ask Sorcha what the plan was for the gallery, and then ask Saskie if she was looking forward to seeing the art. He'd ask me about the lessons I was planning on teaching, and then he'd ask Saskie what her favourite type of art was. Saskie warmed to him quickly and answered his questions enthusiastically, talking about how she loved painting and drawing but didn't like digital drawing because it was too many buttons.
"I think you'll like one of the lessons we'll have on your first day, then," Mr Rose said warmly. "We're going to be painting different kinds of leaves, looking at the shapes and sizes of them. I think you'll be very good at it."
Saskie glowed. I felt an ache in my chest for how pleased I was to see it.
"I like leaves," she said proudly.
Mr Rose beamed back at her. "I do too, especially little ones shaped like this." He drew in the air with his finger.
Saskie nodded and said, "I like the big ones that stretch out like this," and tried her best to show what she meant with her hands spread out wide. As her hands were only tiny, it didn't quite show what she meant, but Mr Rose got the gist.
"Daddy," Saskie said.
"Yes, turtlebug?" I asked.
Saskie fixed me with her best 'I'll be good I promise' look and said, "Can I have another doughnut?"
I considered that for a moment. Saskie had managed a lot that day, with the flight and the moving of boxes. She was inevitably due to crash heavily later, and I didn't think even the sugar from another doughnut would prevent a good night's sleep.
"Go for it, sweetie," I told her. "Want to go have a look?"
"Yes," she said excitedly. "Does Mr Rose want one?"
I turned the question to the man himself, and told him that I wouldn't hear arguments against buying him coffee and a doughnut.
"Then Mr Rose would love one," he informed Saskie seriously. "Pick a surprise flavour for me, okay? Make it extra unhealthy."
Saskie grinned, and Sorcha took her up to the counter to have a look at which unhealthy option was the best for her new teacher. I smiled at him warmly. "You're very good with kids."
"I've had a lot of practice," he grinned.
"Do you have kids?" I asked, wondering if his practice was limited to the school or if kids featured in his personal life.
"No," he replied, and I thought I caught a hint of wistfulness in his voice. "I want them, though. You'd think I'd be sick of them by now, but really, there's nothing quite like teaching kids."
I admitted, "I can't share the love of teaching kids. I'm looking forward to teaching adults. But I love Saskie, and I'm glad her teacher is the type of person who loves his students."
Mr Rose smiled in response. "If you don't mind me asking - I like to know my student's situations - will Saskie be living with you and Ms Thomas?"
"Yes, Sorcha and I are living together above the gallery, with Saskie," I answered. "I'm hoping that once the gallery is up and running, Saskie and I will be able to get a house somewhere in the neighbourhood - I think it'll suit us better. But for now, it's a good arrangement."
He nodded thoughtfully. "I think Sorcha will be a good influence on Saskie. It's always nice to have strong women around girls, I think they give good examples." He hastily added, "Not that you wouldn't supply the best of influences."
"No, I think you're right," I smiled. "My husband - ex-husband - and I always wanted Saskie to have strong female role models. My sister, Siobhan, has been a constant example for Saskie."
"That's good," he sounded very pleased. "Although I'm sorry to hear-"
"Oh, don't be," I waved my hand dismissively, because the last thing I wanted to do was have a conversation about Colin. "It was the right decision in the end, and we've remained as amicable as possible through the separation for Saskie."
"Good," he nodded firmly. "I'd like to reassure you that Saskie will be alright. I've seen many students go through their parents' divorce and the more friendly the parents remain, the easier the transition is. She will be alright."
I'd heard it from Sorcha and Siobhan, and my parents, but somehow this man telling me that Saskie would be okay hit harder. It was probably because, like he'd said, he'd seen it before, probably more than I imagined, and he had proof that the kids had turned out alright.
"Thank you," I said, my throat suddenly a bit tight. "I appreciate it. It was recent, the separation. Well, very recent in terms of the legalities - we signed the papers two weeks ago."
"Oh, right," his eyebrows shot up. "Gosh, that is recent."
I nodded, sighing heavily. "And we have to be legally separated for two years before we can divorce, which I'm sure will be a delightful cloud over my head."
Mr Rose pulled a face. "That doesn't sound pleasant."
"It isn't, but only because it would be nice to have it done with," I replied. I felt he had the information he needed to deal with any emotions Saskie might bring to the classroom with her about the separation, and I didn't want to be talking about it when she returned to the table, so I said, "But I'm happy with how things are right now. It was the right decision for both me and Colin, and I'm pleased with our fresh start here."
Mr Rose beamed, and I felt myself almost need to lean back at the brightness of it. "I'm glad. And I'm glad Saskie will be in my class. Speaking of - I tend to hold a meeting with parents at the end of the student's first week, and then at the end of their first month, just to make sure the transition goes as smoothly as possible. Would that be alright with you?"
"Oh, yes, I'd like that," I nodded.
We discussed the arrangement, and Saskie and Sorcha returned with coffee and doughnuts. Saskie had selected a triple chocolate doughnut for both her and Mr Rose, who insisted Sorcha and I call him Elliot, and a lemon doughnut for me. I could feel Sorcha looking at me with an amused expression every time I smiled at Elliot, and I kicked her under the table twice.
"Ow," Saskie said, as I inadvertently kicked my own child.
"Sorry, sweetie, my foot slipped," I lied through my teeth, cringing.
*****
Sorcha: ...
Tyler: ...
Sorcha: you kicked your own child-
Tyler: I KNOW OKAY I FEEL BAD ABOUT IT