My Second Chance at Love

Let’s make a plan

Emma’s POV

The next morning came without a hangover, unsurprisingly, since there were only two drinks consumed and one wasn’t even finished. I grab my phone and notice that Rob has text me. He wants to know where I’m going to move to and why I didn’t check in with him last night. I reply back quickly with the facts: IDK and because we’re getting a divorce, thus I don’t owe you a check-in. I get up and make coffee. I know that coffee is Court’s crack. Sure enough, the angry morning version of her emerges from her room. “You made coffee,” she croaks. “Yup. Get caffeinated so we can find me an apartment. I don’t know how long I can couch surf at Rob’s,” I inform her.

We enjoy coffee and get dressed in shorts and tanks. I throw my hair in a half up half down style. Hers goes in a messy bun. Together we’re a sight, she’s 5’10” slender with fake boobs and a nose ring, while I’m 5’3” and the definition of curvy and only ear piercings. Her shorts show the bottom of her butt cheeks and mine cover over a third of my thighs. Our styles are so different but our personalities are synonymous. We call a couple of apartment management firms and have some leads on apartments. The first three are a bust, one is nothing but old people, the second one literally had a drug needle in the parking lot, and the third had a murder in the next apartment three nights ago.

Finally, we make it to the fourth apartment. When we get out of my Mustang, every head in the parking lot is on swivel, first they check out Court, then they check out me. Most go back to Court, I mean who wouldn’t with her indecent shorts, but the few that remain on me are so intense I don’t know how I feel. Rob never made me feel attractive and all the attention I’ve received since last night is almost intoxicating.

As the apartment manager unlocks the door, I know this is the one. It’s a townhouse style apartment, with a living room, laundry room, kitchen, and bathroom downstairs. Upstairs are two bedrooms and a bathroom. There is a back door in the kitchen that leads to a deck. Both the front and back door have a deadbolt and a doorknob lock. Everyone in the parking lot was attentive so I know they’d watch out for me, even if their intentions were only in hopes of getting something in return. I pull out my phone and text Rob. I’m using our joint checking account to secure my apartment, it’s my money but I think it’s only fair. I tell the apartment manager that I’ll take it and begin the paperwork and write a check for $1,370. My monthly rent is $685. My phone starts ringing and I know it’s Rob. I decline the call. It begins ringing again, so I decline a second time. The third time it rings, I pick it up and he’s yelling, “What do you meant you got an apartment? You’re really done? Don’t I get another chance? I can change! I won’t let you leave.” I finish signing the lease agreement, take the key from the apartment manager, smile at Court, and step out of the kitchen of my new home as the apartment manager grabs the paperwork and slips out the front door.

“Look, it’s done,” I state calmly into the phone. “I’m not staying with you. I will not continue to be compared to some over sexualized 18-year old that’s faking it for money.” Court’s head snaps around and her eyebrow raises. She knows everything so she just waits for it. She knows I’ve had enough. “Why can’t you just want me like all those girls want it,” he huffs into the phone. “Honestly, Rob, if you were laying it down amazing, I might, but as it stands, s*x with you is mediocre at best. This is more than just about s*x. I need a partner. One that will love me for me and will continue to grow with me. You’ve become stagnant and I want more. I’m just not happy with our relationship. You need to accept it.” I know all of that has pissed him off, but now it’s time to just state what needs to be stated. I steady myself with a breath and make my final stand, “I’m going to draw up divorce papers. If we file mutually, it’s $90 and will be final in sixty days. If you contest it, I will hire an attorney.” He hangs up without another word.

I look at Court as she full on smiles at me. “Mediocre at best, huh?” I full on laugh, “yeah I don’t know what all the hype about s*x is anyway.” I grab my phone and shoot a text to my mom, explaining the events of the last few days and ask if I can get my childhood bed from her house. It’s just a full bed, but it’s a bed. Of course she calls. How much better could this day get? “Hi mom, yeah I know exactly how disappointed you and Dad are…I understand that I’m your last child who hasn’t gotten divorced…I know I was your last hope at a successful marriage…I know how hard marriage is, I’ve heard it my whole life. It’s just not gonna work out…We’ve tried marriage counseling three times…Mom you know I’ve kicked him out four times in the last seven years.” Finally, I’m frantic enough to come clean and I yell, “mom! He’s addicted to porn. He doesn’t touch me. He thinks I should look like them and act like them. There’s no foreplay. He wants porno scenes all the time and that’s not how it works for me.” Finally my mom seems to go silent. She understands how miserable I’ve been. “Has he been mean to you,” she asks. “Mom, he makes me feel unworthy of affection and love. He tells me I’m too big and round. He says that my boobs are too small and my butt is too big.” My mom exhales, and replies with, “well baby, I hate that. Come pick up the bed or I can get your dad to deliver it.”

With a bed, I move on to the next big thing, the kitchen. I know I’m going to bring the table from the home I shared with Rob, it belonged to my Aunt. I’m going to bring dishes and cookware. I should be set. I head into my new bathroom and notice that I will need a shower curtain. I know Rob and I had plenty of towels, we can split them. I won’t have any bedroom furniture, but a bookshelf can work as an impromptu dresser with a few baskets. Next is the living room. I walk downstairs and look. I’ll bring the entertainment center from Rob’s. That should piss him off. I mean how will he watch porn? I’ll buy my own couch.

I look at Court and tell her I’m ready if she is and we head to my former residence. It’s time to start packing. Before I can even grab the key, Court grabs my phone and snaps a picture of the key to my new apartment. She then posts it on my i********: with a caption of “to new beginnings..” Within three minutes, I have a notification that someone has liked my picture. Another minute goes by and there’s a new message. I’m driving so I don’t have time to read it, plus I’ve got a couch to buy and a crap ton of stuff to pack.