Page 11 of Due Process
A nostalgic smile lifted as I entered the rambunctious setting, the place smelling of Dad’s classic mac and cheese… straight out of the packet.
Dylan Foster was a retired ex-pro league baseball coach after playing professionally for many years. Now, his main role was being the best grandparent to my boys. He was the only one they had.
My mother had passed away when I was a young girl, and Felix’s pompous parents were cut off not long after our wedding. They couldn’t accept that their baby boy had a mind of his own and blamedme, claiming I had pulled him away and poisoned his mind.
They claimed I was the “she-devil” incarnate who would take Felix for all he was worth…Well, I guess they have a point there.
“How was your first day back, Stells?” Dad asked, sweeping into the room with my wrestling toddler at his chest, now fully clothed.
I opened my arms, and Phoenix jumped into them, settling immediately.I missed you, too, bud.
“It was… enlightening,” I said, my mind reeling back to the announcement of my return and the aftermath that had followed.
I clipped Phoenix into the highchair, then dropped onto the kitchen stool next to him. My muscles grew weary from the wired tension I had held them in for hours.
It was a long and arduous day—but a necessity. I had to reestablish distant connections and test old loyalties. My goal was to regain favour with the board members and make sure our employees’ allegiances aligned with my own.
And after seeing the state Felix had left the company in, it shouldn’t have been too hard. Even with the six-week timeframe I had to work with.
So, with a set goal and the motivation of a scorned woman, I had painted on my brave face and acted like the charismatic and charming Stella Johnson… But that didn’t stop the festering pain carving at my insides.
When he had disappeared upstairs… When I had caught Alicia in distress… When he had returned with his guilty mask and her panties peeking out of his jacket pocket…
That experience had been the final fracture that cracked my chest open. Just when I thought I couldn’t hurt anymore, he managed to rip out the remaining tatters of my heart and light them on fucking fire.
There was nothing but ash. And he didn’t even notice me burning. I could see Felix’s thoughts spinning behind his eyes—all selfish and guilt-ridden. No doubt trying to come up with a solution on how he could escape his affair unscathed.
Agony rapidly shifted into disgust straight after I’d left him in the foyer. I bolted for the bathroom and scrubbed my flesh raw. My hands tingled from the fresh layer of skin I had ripped off in haste.
Then there was Curtis. We had drifted apart in recent years due to the demands of mum life and the jealousy of his raging ex-wife. But despite our distance, Curtis had noticedsomethingwas off.He wasn’t fond of big crowds, but I knew he stayed for me.
Although he couldn’t know what I was going through, Curtis stuck by my side for the remainder of the event, offering quiet support in the absence of my husband, who had to go home “sick”—the first time in two years, I might add.
That was when my screen flashed with a notification on the kitchen bench. I cringed at the header, which stated a message from Felix. My eyes lapsed shut as I blindly flipped the phone facedown.
I just wished for one minute—one fucking minute—where I didn’t have to get a jolting reminder of him, his transgressions or his dreadful actions.
He doesn’t exist. He doesn’t exist. He doesn’t exist.
After two long breaths, I peeled my eyes open to catch on wary blue ones that were all too knowing and so like my own.
“Eli.” I sighed before stretching my mouth into a half-ass grin, which he didn’t believe.
My eleven-year-old loaded up a plate of food and placed it in front of me. “Hi, Mum.”
And there it was. A simple gesture from my big boy that nearly had me undone.
Besides his obsession with baseball—practically in his DNA—Eli was quiet and studious, usually choosing to watch from afar rather than join in.
Unlike my hurricane of a two-year-old, who had grown impatient and started flinging pasta everywhere. “Mine! Mine! Mine!”
Eli chuckled and decided to wrangle his brother into submission.
A bittersweet smile slowly stretched over my face as I watched my boys.
Why would anyone jeopardise this? How can you throw all of this away for a fleeting moment of passion?
My eyes began to burn when I noticed my dad leaning against the sink, standing on the outskirts, seeing far too much.
