Page 16 of Jace
A soft-green stucco four-story narrow house, it’s nestled on a corner in historic Charleston. My favorite is its brick-walled garden hiding a soaring pergola blooming with white jasmine; a romantic spot I often use for bridal shoots.
It was supposed to be my sanctuary. A place where I could remember my father’s life, his legacy dedicated to art and nature, not his death. Not the ALS neurodegenerative disease that slowly took him away from me.
I still have my mom. She’s still full of life, and I’m grateful.
My parents divorced when I was young, but they stayed close friends. My dad supported her art, career, and travel. My mom is a renowned photojournalist, dedicated to telling every woman’s story around the world.
The last time I heard from her, she was documenting the real “Kingdom of Women” in China.
While my kingdom is threatened by a little tyrant in yellow Crocs, an orange beanie, and a need to grab his crotch every five seconds like he’s got chronic jock itch, minus being a jock anymore.
Somewhere along the way, David went from cute to clownish. From charming to conniving. From caring to cutting my heart out.
And I want it back.
My heart. My house. My pride. I’ll wage a war to have peace again.
For now, I call upon the soldier by my side in this fight. Every fight. My childhood best friend, Harlow Sutton—Charleston’s toughest young lawyer clad in linen and lace.
“There you are.” She sighs, relieved by my call. “I left you a voicemail with my update; we still haven’t heard from the little dick dipper. He’s got twenty-four more hours left in his bullshit discovery process before we’ll surely go to trial. But don’t worry. If a duck had his brain, it’d fly north for the winter. David will find nothing on you, while we have him on three counts of adultery.”
I wince. Not at the adultery. I’ve had months to grieve and get really damn pissed about finding him in bed with three women. Don’t know what they got out of that night but a quick serving of a cold Vienna sausage.
But I got sad, then mad, then I got my best friend, an attorney.
I wince because Harlow Sutton is a loaded, legal canon. She’ll bomb any wrong man’s world into smithereens. Then, she’ll pucker her elegant rouge lips and spit on his dust.
She makes badass look beautiful.
“I love you.” I sigh. “Thank you so much. We’re almost there.”
“And when you win, which youwill,” she assures, “you and I are taking a girl’s trip. I’m thinking Vegas and man-meat revue shows.”
“Speaking of man-meat.”
I need to tell someone, and Harlow is the only friend I have left.
I let my world get so small. David’s friends became mine. His loves my likes. His preferences my priority. His emotions my responsibility.
In retrospect, I admit that I fell into the role of the “perfect wife” until I perfectly lost myself.
Now I know better. Marriage is meant to enhance your life. Not expect you to give yours up to make someone else’s better.
But the good news is you can always get your life back, bit by bit.
Or in my case…
“Man-meat?” Harlow sounds as excited as I feel. “Do tell!”
“I made a new friend today. Well, sort of new. We’ve been working together for months, and?—”
She gasps. “Oh, dear hot man-meat made in heaven. Please tell me we’re talking about the colossal clit thriller who guards the door at Delta’s. He’s your fuckable friend now?”
I twist my lips, afraid to confirm what my clit knows. “Which guard? There aretwo.”
“Don’t play cunty and coy with me.” She fusses. “You know the one: the huge, hot hunk who doesn’t have a ring on his finger but has a huge crush on you—thatone.”
“Jace isn’t crushing on me.”
