Tell Her Good Luck

About thirty minutes after I got home, Jack showed up.

The kid was at Jenny's—she offered to babysit so we could "talk."

We sat on the couch, quiet.

Ten minutes in, Jack finally said, "Since you saw everything... let's just get a divorce."

I stared out the window.

"It's not Jenny's fault. It's on me."

Still defending her. Unreal.

I didn't say a word. Just rubbed my hands—calloused, cracked, frostbitten. Years of driving had wrecked them.

They looked like dried-up radishes.

Not like Jenny's perfect little porcelain hands.

No wonder Jack wouldn't let her touch a dish.

"You even listening?" he snapped. "Let's divorce. You keep the house. We split savings. Kid chooses who to stay with."

I looked at him, dead serious.

"The house still has a mortgage. Savings are crap. If I take it, you'll still come sniffing for more. And Willy? He's clearly on your team. Same old Jack—cheap as ever. Lemme guess, Jenny helped you rehearse this?"

Jack ignored the jab. Just kept rambling.

"Yeah, there's a mortgage. But the location's solid. You could rent it out. Paying it off won't be hard."

I snorted. "Easy for you to say. I've been making those payments solo. You haven't dropped a dime."

Jack hadn't had a real job in five years. Just bounced between random gigs for beer money. Never once stepped up.

If I hadn't seen him babying Jenny, I would have figured he was just emotionally dead.

How did I ever fall for this guy?

The more I thought about it, the more unreal it felt.

We were mid-argument when someone started banging on the door. Took a few knocks before we even noticed.

I opened it. Jenny. Puffy eyes, holding Willy's hand.

She walked right in, all teary-eyed.

"Ruth, don't blame Jack. It's on me. I was just... lonely. I leaned on him too much. I even talked to Willy—he knows he should apologize. He's your son. Hitting you wasn't right."

She fake-dabbed at invisible tears.

Under her little act, Willy mumbled a sorry.

"He's just a kid. He didn't mean it. He'll be better," she said, like she was his mom now.

I didn't budge. Then she tried to shove him at me.

I knew what this was— she wanted me to take Willy so she could play house with Jack, no baggage in the way.

Yeah, no.

I stood up and threw the door open.

"Save the sweet-girl routine. None of you are staying. Jack, we're filing tomorrow. The kid's yours."

They just stood there, stunned.

Didn't matter. I pushed them out without blinking.

Ten years playing the fool? I was done. Let someone else wear the clown hat.

***

Next morning, I hit the lawyer's office before it even opened. Jack was a no-show.

I called a few times—he finally rolled up.

And of course, he brought Jenny.

Like a ghost that just wouldn't die.