Page 4 of Soaring Free
Emily tugs on my hand. “Let’s go people, move it!” I laugh and even Olivia smiles in response to her sister’s enthusiasm. I notice Olivia glance around, and I know she’s looking for her father. I wrap my arm around her and pull her close, leaning down to kiss the top of her head. “Come on, kiddo, let’s go have a great time, okay?” She nods and hugs me back as we walk over to Main Street. The hum of the crowd paired with the sweet smells of autumn treats waiting to be enjoyed greet us like an unofficial welcome to one of my favorite annual events.
As soon as the girls start painting their pumpkins, my phone vibrates with a text.
Shane
Hey, sorry. I had to go to the Nashville office last minute this afternoon and am just getting out of there. I’ll meet you at the festival as soon as I can. Sorry.
With traffic this time of day, he will be lucky to make it in ninety minutes from his office in East Nashville. Vivian watches me lock my phone and tilts her head. “Is he coming? His office is like three blocks away, what’s taking him so long?” Vivian quietly asks, low enough so the kids don’t hear us.
“Sure, if he was at the Forrest Falls office today, but apparently, he went to the one in the city. So, he’s on his way, allegedly. Let’s see if he actually shows up.” Because it seems like lately, he fails to do that not only for me, but for our girls as well, and that’s not fair to them. A slight tinge of pain pulls just below my shoulder, a nice reminder from my body that I’m carrying extra stress lately. I try to roll out my shoulder, and if all else fails, I’ll try to ignore the pain all together.
“I’m sorry, Sav. Hopefully, he will get here in time to still make some memories with your girls, but in the meantime, we’re here, okay?” She reaches around and squeezes me in a side hug. My sister is right, all I can do is hope he makes it in time, but either way, my girls deserve to have a fun experience. And that’s exactly what we do for almost three hours, which is how long it takes before I see my husband walking down the street. I don’t know what took him so long, and honestly, at this point, I don’t really care. He is beyond late—he missed the whole thing.
“Hey, babe.” He leans in to kiss the side of my cheek, ignorant that my jaw is clenched so tight I might crack a molar. “Sorry I’m a bit late, what did I miss?” Iseverythingtoo subtle of a response? The girls hug Shane in greeting, but Olivia’s hug is lackluster, at best.
“Daddy, I’m tired. I think I’m Cider Festivalled out,” Lucy says in lieu of greeting to her dad, reaching up for him to pick her up.
“I’m sorry to hear that, baby. I just got here, though. Did you want to go get a caramel apple or maybe take a turn on the train rides?” Shane gives her a hug as he lists off some of the things she has been talking about for weeks.
Lucy shakes her head, dismissing his suggestions. “Nope, we already did all of those. I’m pooped.” She yawns and lays her head down on Shane’s shoulder as he looks to me, like I’m going to change her mind, and I just shrug in response. I don’t think he actually wants to hear what I think right now.
“Can we grab our pumpkins from the drying table before we go? I think that cupcake turned out amazing. Daddy, you have to see what I did! Uncle Ryan helped, too!” Emily grabs his other hand and leads the way back down Main Street so we can pick up the pumpkins before calling it a night. Cider Fest had a great turnout, and it really was a nice evening overall, but Shane wouldn’t know that because once again, he missed out.
Chapter four
February
Present day – one month after penthouse discovery
The flames of the fire crackle and flow across the edges of the manilla envelope as though dancing together with the oxygen they consume and require to burn. A deep, cleansing breath slows my heart rate slightly just before I take a big drink of my wine. If Shane thought I was going to sign this absolute bullshit, he’s dumber than a box of rocks. I set my wine glass on the side table, tugging my lavender shawl tighter before slowly massaging my temples. Leaning my head back on the lounger, I take a long and slow deep breath of the crisp evening air.
How did this become my life?
Four weeks ago, it was just a normal Tuesday. I never would have imagined that organizing the paper chaos in our home office would light a match that caused my marriage of fourteen years to go up in smoke. Well, technically thirteen years, I guess we didn’t quite make it to year fourteen.
The memory of that morning still feels like a nightmare.
Stacking more papers together on the desk, a business card falls out of the pile. I don’t recognize the name, some realtor in Nashville and probably related to one of Shane’s cases. I start going through the pile to see if I can figure out where the card belongs,if anywhere. I find a folder with the same company name, and as I open it, my mouth drops like a damn cartoon character.
“What the actual hell is this?” Did I just enter an alternative universe? The folder holds a signed purchase agreement to a penthouse in the heart of Nashville and a … whoa, a very expensive penthouse. I turn the page, and instead of our family trust listed as the buyer, it only says Shane T. Williams.
Why would my husband buy a penthouse in his name when we always purchase property in our family trust’s name, and why have I not heard about this until now? I check the date of the signing and there’s an easy way to see if I can find out more information. I open the shared family calendar and look up the date. Shane’s calendar says he was in court all day but that doesn’t quite add up for me. I pull up the clerk of courts schedule through Shane’s login and check the calendar for the date.
Shane wasn’t scheduled for a single court appearance. I slam the purchase agreement papers down and stalk to the kitchen to call my husband.
“Hey, Savannah. Is this urgent? I was just about to head into a meeting with a client.” I bristle at how he answers the phone. Urgent? I’ll show him urgent.
“I’ll keep it real quick, Shane. What the hell is at eighteen hundred South Park Boulevard in Nashville?”
His silence is deafening.
“Hello?” I check to make sure our call is still connected.
Shane clears his throat before saying anything. “Savannah … I promise I didn’t mean for you to find out like this.”
“I’m not sure you meant for me to find out at all! What the hell is going on?”
“It’s time for both of us to face reality and stop living with our heads in the sand. I’m done, Savannah. I want out—and I want you to be free too.”
