Chapter 7 - The Parking Lot Beggar
I walked out of the courthouse accompanied by Sarah, feeling a deep, quiet sense of vindication.
As we reached the parking garage, I heard frantic footsteps rushing up behind us.
“Rachel! Please! Just five minutes! I’m begging you!”
Grant ran up to us, out of breath, his tie askew. Sarah immediately stepped between us, but I placed a gentle hand on her arm.
“It’s okay, Sarah. Give us two minutes.”
Sarah gave Grant a stern warning look and stepped back near her car.
Grant stood in front of me, his hands shaking, his eyes desperately scanning my rounded stomach.
“You’re really showing,” he whispered, a tear spilling over his cheek. “Is it... is it a boy or a girl?”
“A girl,” I said quietly. “Her name is Charlotte.”
Grant bit his lip, his chest heaving as he sobbed openly. “Charlotte... that’s... that’s my grandmother’s middle name.”
“I know,” I said. “I always liked it.”
“Rachel, please,” Grant begged, dropping to his knees right there on the oil-stained concrete of the parking garage. “I made the biggest mistake of my life. I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry!”
“Get up, Grant,” I said coldly. “You look pathetic.”
“I don’t care how I look!” he cried out, grabbing the hem of my coat. “My life is a nightmare, Rachel! Ever since you left, everything has fallen apart!”
“Because you built your life on my money and your sister’s lies,” I told him.
“I kicked her out!” Grant revealed frantically, looking up at me with raw desperation. “I kicked Melissa out of the apartment last week! When she realized you weren’t coming back with your money, she demanded I take out a second mortgage on our Lincoln Park place to pay for Tyler’s school and her BMW! When I told her I couldn’t afford it, she called me a spineless loser and told me I deserved to lose you!”
I stared down at him. I felt no joy in his pain, only a profound, hollow pity.
“She used me, Rachel!” Grant sobbed. “She used me for six years! She hated you because you saw right through her! She manipulated me into asking for that divorce because she thought if you were gone, I’d give her even more money! I was so stupid! I was so blind!”
“Yes, Grant,” I said softly. “You were.”
“I’ll cut them off completely!” Grant swore, clutching his chest. “I’ll never speak to Melissa or my mother again! Just let me come home. Let us be a family. Let me be a father to Charlotte!”
I looked down at the man I had spent six years trying to love. The man who had sat at a dining table, smelled the pot roast I had spent three hours making, and asked me for a divorce because his sister whispered in his ear.
“You don’t get to cut them off now just because they ran out of things to steal from you, Grant,” I said gently. “You should have cut them off when they disrespected your wife.”
“Rachel, please—”
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“You can be a father to Charlotte,” I told him, stepping back so his hands slipped off my coat. “You’ll have court-approved visitation rights once she’s born. But you will never be my husband again.”
I turned, stepped into my car, and drove away, leaving him kneeling alone in the dark.
