“Hey,” he smiles. “Ready for dinner?”
“I was actually coming to help. What are you making?” I ask.
“Red beans and rice,” he says.
“Ah. I thought I smelled that earlier. Has it been in the crockpot?”
“It has,” he smiles.
“I’m going out,” Mom says flatly.
“Bye,” I say simply. Normally I would ask her why she is not eating with us. I would argue or at least complain about her not giving a shit. I don’t argue with her, and she looks at me with a confused look. “What? Do you expect me to keep fawning over you, hoping that you’ll be a mother to me one day? Go out and do whatever you want.”
“Whatever. Enjoy your shitty food,” she grumbles.
“I will,” I say with a sweet smile. Mom huffs and storms out of the kitchen, leaving Dante smirking at me.
“It’s hard to believe that you’re related to her,” Dante remarks as he hands me a bowl of food.
“Believe me. I know,” I say, rolling my eyes.
“Come sit on the patio with me,” he says as he opens the sliding glass door. I follow him out and sit down at the table.
“What’s up?” I ask.
“Really?” he asks, chuckling. “I know you heard all of that.”
“Yeah. I suspected she cheated, I just didn’t know for sure,” I say.
“Yeah, for a while now,” he says as he sits beside me.
“Ew. You still have sex with her and she’s whoring all over the place?” I ask between bites.
“No,” he laughs. “We haven’t slept together since I found out she cheated about eight months after we got married.”
“Why the fuck are you still with her? If she’s cheating then that will get you out of paying alimony,” I ask.
“Because I can’t prove it. It’s my word against hers and the court will always take her word unless I have proof. I could hire a private investigator, but that shit is expensive, and I’d rather just wait until she fucks up or gets sick hiding and just leaves me.”
“Then let’s catch her,” I shrug. “She leaves tomorrow afternoon, right?”
“Mhmm,” he says.
“Well, let’s follow her. I have my last final in the morning. We can just take my car and go find her,” I say.
“Why do you want to help me divorce her?” he asks.
“Honestly?” I ask and he nods. “Because I want more of what you did last night, and I don’t like the idea of being a second choice.”
“You are not a second choice, Ava,” he says softly.
“I feel like it. You can’t or don’t want Mom anymore, so you come fuck me to tears the first chance you get,” I say. “That might not be how it really is, but that’s how it feels.”
“Then let’s catch her and I’ll show you exactly how much I care,” he says.
“How long have you wanted to do what you did last night?” I ask.
“Since the moment I met you,” he says.