“I wish it hadn’t come to this, Mac.” She smiled sadly, which I knew was an act. She was just trying to “ease” my pain. I saw through it for what it really was, though.
“That’s a lie, Mags.” I said evenly. My brain was now working on a plan. “But whatever. I’m not going to contest the divorce, as long as it is what you say it is. I’ll have my lawyer go over the papers with me before I sign them, you know.”
She nodded. “I wouldn’t expect anything less, Mac. Just so you know, it wasn’t anything you did or didn’t do. Reginald and I just clicked on a soul level. I really do love you, but I’m in love with him. I’m really sorry it has to be this way, Mac.”
What a load of bullshit! She was “in love” with his money. His family is worth billions. The night of the charity ball we’d attended, he’d danced too close to Maggie, and as they separated, I noticed him adjusting himself after she was coming back to our table. I knew for a fact that he didn’t have enough to satisfy her in bed. I almost missed the fact that he had a hard-on under his tight slacks until he adjusted it. I had to, as I did then, suppress a laugh at the fact that at least cock-wise, Maggie was trading way down from my 7 1/2 inch Beast with the cut head and the 2 1/2 inch width.
But since I didn’t want to rock the boat quite yet, I just said “I’m sorry too.”
Well, after that little talk, she handed me the manila envelope. “You’ll be officially served in the morning, Mac. I’ll meet you with my lawyer at Tim’s office. This is just a preview of what I want from the settlement.” She’s referring to Tim Grayson, my best bud since grade school, and my lawyer in all things since I started MacDougall’s Chocolate Factory.
“You know what? Get rid of the alimony, and you have a done deal. Reggie is rich. You don’t need my money, do you?” I knew it was a longshot, but shit! She owed me that at the very least!
She seemed to think about it. Hell, if she went for it, I might not even go through with the plan that had already semi-formed in my head.
“No, Mac. I need something from all of this. After all, I did waste 10 years of my life with you.” Oh HELL NO! That statement right there, that our entire marriage, indeed our entire time together while dating and being engaged, had just been a waste of her time, galvanized me. I looked at the proposed alimony, and raised one eyebrow. She wanted $2200 a month in alimony for two years, or until she remarried, whichever came first. That was about half of what I made per month after overhead and paying my workers. I could live on it, and I had more than enough saved in my personal savings account.
I pretended to think about it. “Fine. I guess that it will be worth it in the end.” I shrugged finally. “I’m going to pack now. I’m leaving tonight.”
And I did. I packed my suitcase and suit bag with my clothes, toiletries, and all that shit. I also packed my extensive music CD collection that included everything from Marty Robbins to Metallica to Mozart. Yeah, it encompassed all those genres. Hell, I even had some Sir Mixalot in there just for shits and grins.