His Vengeful Tradwife

3. Maverick

CHAPTER 3

Maverick

I gaped at my wife.

She must not have heard me properly, or she wouldn't be acting so casual.

I had just told her I wanted a divorce and her response had been "fine."

So I spoke again, clearly and distinctly, so there could be no mistaking my meaning.

"Tallulah, like I said, it's over between us. I'm sorry, but I don't love you anymore. I want a divorce."

She raised an eyebrow at me, her perfectly manicured nails still flicking through her dress patterns.

"Yes, I heard you the first time, Maverick. Anything else?"

My jaw seemed to be sagging and I closed it with an effort.

"But. . .but. . .is that all you have to say?" I asked, somewhat stupidly.

"What do you want me to say?" my wife replied serenely.

"I'm telling you we're over!" I said impatiently, leaning forward in my chair.

My tie was practically falling in the teapot, but I didn't care. She must be deep in denial, but she had to realize this was real . This was what I wanted.

“I got it,” she said cheerfully, continuing to look at me with infuriating calmness. She was wearing a bright pink gingham dress with a little lacy white collar, her long auburn hair falling over her shoulders, like she had come directly from filming for A Pinch of Ginger.

"What's wrong with you?" I asked. "You're acting like you don't comprehend what's happening."

"I comprehend perfectly what's happening," she replied, as she got up to answer a knock on the door. It was the Amazon man with a big stack of packages, and my wife took them with a charming smile.

"Hold on," she asked him. "This is a a late shift. Want a bite to eat?"

"Sure, ma'am," he laughed, and then I watched as she got the wrapped plate on the stove that I assumed had been meant for me, and handed it to him.

As it wafted past my nose, I smelled Beef Wellington. That was one of my favorites, but Tallulah couldn't sweeten me up with food this time. There were more important things in the world than Beef Wellington.

"I'm happy to give you as long as you need to come to terms with this," I continued firmly.

"Oh," Tallulah said blithely, sitting down across from me and tucking her curvy short legs up under her. "I don't need any more time."

Then she bent her head down to her sewing project again and didn’t spare me another look. Like she didn’t need any more information and was done with the whole conversation!

Irritation sizzled down my spine, little flares of anger sparking under my skin.

I was supposed to be relieved, damnit! This was supposed to feel like a weight off my shoulders!

"What is going on with you?" I couldn't help blurting out. "Why aren't you acting upset? Crying?"

"I suppose for the same reason you aren't crying," she countered, threading a needle with her little pink tongue, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

For a moment there was silence, and I could hear the ragged sounds of my heavy breathing echoing in the kitchen.

Something had gone wrong somewhere. This was not how this was supposed to go.

"I have to tell you the whole truth," I said finally, wanting something to get through to her.

Tallulah must think she could get around me the way she always had, with her sweet smiles, her lush curves, the comforting tight warmth of her pussy. But not this time. She was a good, sweet girl, and I was very sorry for hurting her, but she was going to have to realize that I was serious.

"There's somebody else."

"Oh?" Tallulah said. "That makes two of us, then."

My hands clutched the table convulsively. "Don't be ridiculous!" I barked at her sharply. " You don't have anyone else."

My wife looked up and her eyes held mine steadily. I felt a sudden uneasy sensation, like the hairs rising on the back of my neck, at the way her big luminous blue eyes stared into mine. There was a cool uninterested expression in them that I had never seen before.

"You're right, Maverick," she said. " I haven't cheated on you . Have you cheated on me?"

The way she put it made me angry. It sounded so cheap and tawdry.

"I love Amanda," I said defensively. "It's not just some one-night stand."

"Of course not," Tallulah said agreeably, taking a sip of her tea, her full lips curving over the rim. “It sounds very romantic, Maverick. I wish you many happy years together.”

I was suddenly unspeakably angry and furious, and I had to grip the table as hard as I could to keep myself calm.

"I'm sure it will be a big adjustment for you," I bit out. "Don't pretend like it won't be."

"Oh, I think it will be a nice little change," Tallulah said, getting up and moving to the kitchen counter. "I find myself growing bored of the same old stale dick. I'm ready for a younger man for a change. Someone who can keep up with my needs."

"Bored with me? I know that’s a damn lie!” I shot at her before I could help myself.

I knew perfectly well that I was a very able and skilled lover. Anything else to the contrary was ridiculous.

"There are things I want sexually ," she said coolly, "that I can't get from you."

I pushed away roughly from the table, feeling frustration boil in my gut.

"Why are you acting like this?" I demanded, advancing on her as she pulled out ingredients and laid them on the table.

It looked like she was going to bake a pie . Of all the goddamn things to do when your husband has just announced he wants a divorce!

Tallulah whirled around, my arms automatically gripping the counter on either side of her before I quite realized what I was doing.

"Back up, Maverick!" she snapped, her eyes narrowed in anger. "We're through. That means you don't get to come looming over me and panting down my back anymore."

I dropped my arms and jerked back, running my hands through my hair. I felt strangely on edge and buzzy.

I didn't want to touch her anyway. It had just been muscle memory to get close to her like that.

"Good," I said, breathing heavily through my nostrils. "I'm glad you're accepting this," I added, somewhat lamely.

Her narrowed eyes widened. "Of course!" she chirped. "In fact, you can go stay with your little friend tonight, if you want."

I stared at Tallulah. Hadn't she been telling me over and over that I should come home earlier, spend more time with the kids?

"I don't--that's not on the schedule for tonight."

"Too bad!" my wife said, reaching for the sugar.

Now I felt on more secure ground. Amanda had said Tallulah might want to get me out of the house.

"I am staying here for now. . .until we get everything settled. It's better for the kids."

"All right," my wife said pleasantly. "We can let the lawyers hammer out all the financial stuff. But, for now, we can swap out weekends. We'll each be responsible for the meals, cleaning, and kid care on our weekend. Then the next weekend will be the other person's turn. You can take the first weekend if you like."

Tallulah was being so reasonable that I couldn't help being suspicious. "I want the kids to meet Amanda," I insisted. "She's going to be in their lives for a long time, so I'd like them to get to know her right away."

If I expected my wife to protest this, I was mistaken.

"What a lovely idea," she said as she swirled heavy whipping cream into a bowl. "But I think we should make a rule that neither of us can introduce someone new as our boyfriend or girlfriend for 6 months. They can meet Amanda. Just not as your girlfriend. And the same will go for anyone I date."

Anyone she dates? Pft, I knew very well my wife was far too in love with me to date anyone anytime soon.

"It's a deal," I said, straightening my tie and trying to resurrect some of the buoyant joy I had been expecting to feel at this point in the proceedings. Why didn't this feel like a win? Why wasn't I ecstatic at the fact that I would soon be able to be with my soulmate?

Tallulah turned and stuck out her little fingers, and, before I knew what was happening, she had gripped my much bigger hand and was shaking it firmly.

"It's a deal. Let's wrap this up. We had a good 10 years and now it's over. There, that was painless."

I stared at her, not liking how the handshake had felt cold, impersonal, dismissive. Never in my life would I have imagined that I would have told my wife I wanted a divorce and have her respond like this. Never in my life would I have imagined she would shake my hand, shrug her shoulders, and move away as if our 10 years together hadn't meant shit to her.

She must be putting on quite the front. I would have sworn up and down she was deeply in love with me.

"There's no need for things to get unpleasant," I said, my voice sounding strange to my ears. "We can discuss these issues like adults, I think."

My wife smiled at me, her full pink lips curving up. "Quite so," she said. "No need at all for things to get unpleasant.”