Page 42 of The Perfect Divorce

Summer groans, and before she can protest, I tell her, “Now.” Her shoulders slump, and her head lolls forward, but she does what I say, picking her backpack off the floor on the way to her room.

“Bob,” I say as soon as he appears from the hall. My voice is full of anger, but he doesn’t seem to pick up on it.

“Ready to talk?” he asks, strolling toward me.

“Why did you leave Summer home alone?”

He squints like he doesn’t know what I’m talking about but then raises his chin in defiance. “That’s none of your business.”

“Bullshit. She’s my daughter.”

“She’s my daughter too!”

“Really? Because what kind of father leaves their child home alone for hours, especially one that rarely sees her anyway?”

“It wasn’t hours, and she was fine,” he says nonchalantly.

“I don’t care if it was for twenty minutes. She’s got a bruise on her chin, Bob, so she wasn’t fine, and she could have gotten seriously hurt,” I spit.

“Yeah, but she didn’t. You really need to stop coddling her.”

“Coddling her? You mean being a parent, keeping an eye on her, making sure she’s safe. She’s nine years old for fuck’s sake.” I raise my chin to match his. “Now, what could you have possibly needed to do that required you leaving her home alone?”

“We aren’t together anymore, Sarah, so I don’t have to answer to you.”

“Yeah, that’s because you can’t be trusted as a husband or a father,” I say, shaking my head. “When I’m done with you, Bob, you’ll be lucky if you even get visitation rights.”

“I doubt that. You have no idea who you’re messing with.” He narrows his eyes. “And I’ll be petitioning the court for full custody, so I can ensure Summer doesn’t end up like you.”

I take a step toward him, staring into his dark eyes. “The only way that will happen is if I’m dead.”

He whispers his response, but it doesn’t register right away. My brows shove together. “What was that?”

The smallest smile settles on his face. “Nothing, Sarah. Nothing at all.”

Finally, his words register.Or in prison... and for some reason those three words send me into a rage. Maybe it’s fear that does it. Fear of what would happen to Summer if I wasn’t around. Fear that he’ll take her away from me.

“Get the hell out of my house, Bob!”

“It’s our house,” he says with an air of cockiness.

“Get out!”

We stand mere inches away from one another. He’s got half a foot on me, but right now, he seems so small. Maybe I’ve always seen him that way, and that was my mistake.

The deck door slides open just as I tell him to get out again. This time my voice is calmer and more controlled. I’ve regained my composure, reminding myself that when you lose your temper, you lose.

“She asked you to leave,” Alejandro says firmly.

Bob’s eyes bounce between me and somewhere behind me, just off to my left, where I’m sure Alejandro is standing. I don’t have to turn around to know what he looks like right now. I can imagine it’s the same as when he protected me from that horde of reporters the other day. Chest puffed out. Shoulders pinned back. Chin raised. And a stare so intense, it comes off more as a threat than a look of scrutiny. Bob’s eyes practically disappear behind his lids as he tightens them, deciding whether he should challenge Alejandro or back down.

“I’ve got someplace to be anyways.” He looks at me and smirks. “Some loose ends to tie up.”

I know it’s a threat, but I don’t know what exactly he’s threatening or what it is he has up his sleeve. The wordsor in prisonswirl around my brain. I always knew he couldn’t be trusted, but this confirms it. Bob leaves without another word, just a lingering stare for as long as he can hold it. The front door slams closed behind him. I let out a deep breath and turn to Alejandro, who appears exactly how I pictured him. With Bob gone, his chest deflates, and his shoulders and chin return to a neutral position.

“Thanks,” I say.

“No problem, and I didn’t mean to intrude. I was just coming in to use the restroom.”

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