A/N: Happy 2020 everyone! Thank you so much for the awesome reviews you guys left - your comments always make me smile!

While not necessarily a dramatic chapter, I hope you enjoy this update. What blows my mind is after this chapter, I see two, maybe three more chapters left of this story. Which is crazy! I can't believe it's coming towards the end.

With that said, I want to give a huge shout-out to the best Beta ever - Pia Bartolini - for turning this chapter around ridiculously quick.

I hope you all enjoy!

Chapter 17

I don't think I've ever been so focused in my life. Not even studying for the LSATs could compare to the amount of concentration that I was pouring into this. It wasn't until the distinct scent of stale coffee wafted into my nostrils that I realized I forgot to even drink it. That's how focused I've been.

It has been two weeks. Two weeks since the afterboom, as I like to call it. Two weeks since the kids refused to see Seiya. Two weeks of 'I'm sorry' voicemails.

Two weeks of working with an attorney to draft my divorce petition.

That's the beauty of working in a law firm; contacts. All I had to do was go to Katzie Prescott, the 'ex-husband slaughterer' as they affectionately call her, and tell her what happened. And boy oh boy was she happy to do me this kind of favor, especially since she owed me one or one thousand Starbucks runs over the last ten years or so.

My grief morphed rather quickly into anger once everything came into fruition. And by fruition I mean some light Facebook "stalking" that brought a whole new perspective. And by "light" I mean actually logging into his Facebook, since he never logged out of the family computer.

Stupid idiot asshole.

Sure, it had been a few years since I logged on to the site (I'm more of a Twitter girl myself), but I wasn't so far removed that I didn't know to check his messages first and foremost. His wall wouldn't have any incriminating evidence on it (was it still called a wall?) with his family and friends on there. That, and with his job, I bet that thing would be locked air-tight with tags.

But not the messages.

Oh, he most certainly did not think about the messenger.

Nyanko Suzu.

Some 19 year old trying to look like a fucking cat with her jet black hair in pointy buns and her obnoxiously thick eyeliner was sexting him. Boobs. Boobs. More boobs. Wet t-shirt boobs. Abundant cleavage boobs.

Pierced nipple boobs.

I thought my mouse was going to break as I scrolled through endless tit pics, chronicling months and months of "waiting 4 u" and "cum on over baby" lines filtered in between. And of course he responded to all of them. Of COURSE he responded. Things like "baby you make me so hot" and "I'll be right there" that made me want to vomit. Because these replies weren't just recent. No.

They were at least ten months old. And we were separated, officially, for only four months.

It was the perfect motivation to continue to discuss everything with Katzie. Splitting the assets. The custody arrangement. Child support. Our money. Our mortgage. Our 401ks and the fucking Christmas Club. The alimony that I was sure as hell going to be receiving.

And I had the titties and the timestamps that were going to back everything up.

Vindictive?

Not in the least.

I'm disgusted. I'm furious. Furious at him, furious with the hussy, but also mad at myself. I knew things were bad, but how was I so naïve that I couldn't see it was this bad? All those gym visits? It's not like he was sticking to some sort of workout regimen, given the dad-bod he was rocking. And all those times he would get so pissy if he didn't have a buffer to go out after work? Plus, the sudden need to hire a sitter to cart our children around rather than step up and be a father?

Disgusting.

What's worse, the kids definitely heard everything. Everything. Because when Seiya came to pick them up two weeks ago on his designated day, Elsie lost it. Absolutely lost it. If I didn't have visions of pierced nipples dancing around me, I might have felt bad at the look on Seiya's face. I've never seen Elsie so furious before, demanding her father to tell her why we weren't good enough. Why wasn't Mom good enough? At first, it was satisfying to not only see, but hear, after being the villain for too long…

But the moment she started crying, asking what she did so wrong, it all came crashing down.

Seiya retreated, and rightfully so, when she screamed at him to leave. And I immediately wrapped my arms around my sobbing baby girl, telling her over and over again that she did absolutely nothing wrong.

"You only got married because you got pregnant with me. It IS all my fault."

…and that has absolutely haunted me since those words left her lips.

It didn't matter what I said to her; she wouldn't listen to me. I know for a fact that Seiya and I never once discussed that we only got married because I was pregnant. Hell, we never even mentioned she was a surprise. At least, never in front of her. And what makes me sick to my stomach; was she picking up on our conversations for a while now? Was she piecing things together, like my dropping out of school or the timing of our wedding? I mean, I did have a pretty discreet wedding dress so those questions wouldn't even come up until she was old enough, and even then I think I would have gone to the grave not telling her.

Did she hear it from someone else? Has Seiya been saying stuff to people when the kids have been around? Because I sure as hell have not been.

My baby. My poor baby.

And Alex? He hasn't left my bed. He has been sleeping in there every single night. I don't know if it's this need to protect me, or he's the 'man of the house,' or even it's because he needs me, but he starts off in his room, and treks in to mine around 12:00 like clockwork. Not that him coming into my room is particularly a bad thing, but to top it all off, he's also doing things around the house… cooking, especially. I love the help, I really do. I just fear it's because he feels this need to have to step into a bigger role. A nine year old shouldn't feel like he needs to cook dinner. Or shovel the driveway. Or vacuum the stairway. As his Mom, that's my responsibility. That shouldn't all fall on him. Some things, like helping put away dishes, or cleaning off the table when we're done eating, and concentrating on his homework… that's a nine-year-old's duty. Not dinner every night. Not having to step up like that.

So when I'm not angry, I'm hurting for my children. They don't deserve any of this; they didn't ask to be a part of a failing marriage. So, I decided to just pull the trigger and not even bother staying separated. What was the point? There was no way I was taking him back. Hell would have to freeze over for me to even consider that.

Of course, all of this happened right as my work life was starting to go in such a good direction. The project I was on, doing all of that research; it was one of the best times in my career. So, go figure it was done three days post-confession, and I've been back at my regular duties for a bit now. Unfortunately, because this job is so second nature to me, I find myself allowing the drama at home to distract me. So the moment a task comes my way, I give it my complete attention. I don't chat with anyone, I barely leave my desk to grab coffee, let alone lunch. I feel myself withdrawing from everyone, but I just can't… deal, I guess, right now. Deal with anything.

I'm so… overwhelmed.

I know I'm doing the right thing, absolutely. I just know that everyone in my house is hurting.

Elsie for thinking it's her fault.

Alex for feeling this need to replace Seiya's presence.

Myself for… so much.

I know that I can't go back to school. Not now. Not with everything. My children… they need me, not this half shell of me with my head focused on school and not their own struggles. Especially now, and more importantly at this vulnerable age of theirs. If I were to vanish like that, at night school, every weeknight and study groups and weekend research? I… I can't do that to them.

And it hurts. It hurts more than losing Seiya. Because again, my dream has been put on hold. Likely indefinitely. It was a nice taste, working alongside everyone, pretending to be a real asset. But I just have to face the facts: it's not possible.

Not now.

I can feel it, the buildup in the back of my throat. No; no, I am not going to cry again. I am stronger than this, and I will get through this. Everything will be alright in the end. My kids, myself, we will bounce back from this.

"Hey, Serena?" I look up to see Lita holding an unfolded piece of paper. Her eyes are soft and knowing; so I'm glad when she makes it quick. "This was delivered to me by mistake; Darien needs to sign off."

"Okay, I'll see right to it; thanks."

"No problem. Let me know if you need anything, 'kay?" She gives me a reassuring smile as she walks off, allowing me to glance at the paperwork. Yup, a sign off for a disbursement check to be cut. That's definitely Darien's client, too.

Sigh.

I've been avoiding him.

Not like I want to. I just… that car ride, sitting with him, being with him for however long I was in there. All I can think about is how that ignited everything that's now going wrong. And it's not his fault; I know that. It's my fault. Mine; for falling for someone I shouldn't even have fallen for. For stealing a moment too long with him in front of my house.

For wanting to cry to him. To call him that evening. To dispel everything and share it with him.

But… that would have been weird, right? To tell him that stuff? I mean, we're not really anything besides two people who fucked one weekend. Even though I know that's not really the fact of the matter, technically it is the truth. We haven't gone out on a date. We don't text, or talk, or do anything. We've had moments. Or looks. But nothing beyond that. So to go to him and belt out my sorrows over my children and my ex-husband and pierced nipples? How would that look? It'd be weird, right?

I chew at my lip. It would figure, of course, that all of this hasn't changed anything about how I feel about him. In fact, it's made me want so much more. But I… I don't know how to ask for it. Our dialogue… it's… not the best. It's not open, or comfortable, and I get it. There's this stigma with the secrecy of what we've done.

So I continue to avoid him the best I can, because I know the moment I open my mouth and discuss anything outside of work, I'm going to come unglued.

I look down at the form that needs his signature, cursing that I need to go face him.

Just get in and get out.

#

She's distant.

No, distant does not quite define it; she's in a whole different state of mind. She is on top of everything; churning out task after task. She surpasses every deadline thrown at her, and with impeccable accuracy.

And that is precisely what is concerning me.

She won't leave for lunch. She'll barely walk away from her desk, unless it's to attend a meeting. I don't know if it is because our project wrapped up and she was placed back on her secretarial duties, or if it is something else entirely. I would understand completely if she felt she needed to 'prove herself,' so to speak, that she can handle a continued increased workload. And if that is the case, if she doesn't stop soon, she's going to burn out fast.

But... I have a nagging suspicion that it's something else entirely.

Serena has pulled away completely. Not like we were, well, together, but there's been chemistry. Obvious chemistry. To say that I don't think about her would be a lie, because she's on my mind all the damn time. Her smile, her laugh, the way her hair falls down her back in those gorgeous, rich golden hues... the way it felt in my hands when we slept together in Portland. How good, how wrong, and so damn right it felt to be with her in that room.

It's been so hard keeping my distance from her, acting like her superior, when in fact I want to fall to my knees and beg. Beg her for another moment of her time, to be alone with her, to feel her against me again. To hold her and satisfy her, to see that look on her face... the one when I slip into her and her lips part just enough to utter a soft mewl.

She's a temptress; constantly invading my mind when she passes by my office. I try my hardest to not think of her in any way aside from my legal assistant, but when she walks in and I get a whiff of that perfume that smells like roses, I am undone.

I sigh and drop my glasses on my paperwork, pinching my index finger and thumb against the bridge of my nose. I'm drowning with curiosity to know what the hell is going on. One moment we're hot and heavy, the next we're doing nothing, then there's these moments, and then absolutely nothing. Did she get back with her husband? Did she meet someone she could be in an actual relationship with? It's no secret that if we were to even think about being together one of us would have to leave our position; sneaking around has a way of coming out.

I circle back to my first thought. What if she did get back with her husband? After all, she did say she was only separated from him, not actually divorced. Separation leaves the door open for a return. Maybe they worked out their issues? Then again, I don't know how you necessarily work out being a dick and abandoning your wife at a fucking Christmas party, but, hey, to each their own. Again, we weren't exactly in a relationship or anything. And he was her husband. Is her husband?

This is exactly why I went straight for the divorce when I split from Setsuna – close the chapter and burn the book. We both walked away unscathed, minus my pride taking a hit from failing at my marriage. I wasn't ready for children and I was not going to be pushed into having them. Deal breakers happen all the time in marriage.

Not that we're on bad terms, either. She started the family she so badly wanted with her new husband, and I have my independence. And my car.

I'm so glad we didn't have kids and split; that would be ugly. It's always ugly once kids are involved.

And then it hits me – Kids. Serena has kids. Two kids. And here I am, straight up pining for someone who has children. I let out a snort; what a strange twist of irony.

Yet, I remain unaffected, even with this fleeting revelation, because I want her. I want her so damn badly that I could care less that she has children. Older children are easier than babies I am sure.

I drop my head into my palm and dig at my eyes.

What the hell am I doing? She's making it perfectly clear that she's unavailable.

Right? Yes? No? Maybe?

Sigh.

A sudden shuffling of papers triggers my attention, the temptress of my mind standing in front of my desk. She's wearing a red blouse and black skirt, hugging the curves I've been longing for. Her hair is resting against her breast in these loose, captivating curls, and I'm struggling to look away.

In what I hope was quicker than it felt, I look up at that perfect face of hers. She's looking at me with those gorgeous eyes, but… something is not right. At all. They're devoid of emotion.

"Can you please sign off on these?" she asks in a neutral voice, mechanically handing me the paperwork as she finishes her request. I nod and accept the documents from her, her hand falling by her side instantaneously. I look down at the requisition forms and quickly scribble my name on them, not really focusing on the content. Just as I begin to write the date, though, I can't help but let the question slip.

"Is everything okay?"

I tilt my head as I look up at her, and the swallow she takes is extremely noticeable. She nods, but doesn't follow up with verbal confirmation.

"Are you sure? You can tell me if anything is bothering you, you know?"

She nods again, but her lips remain unmoving. Not even the smallest of smiles forms at the corners. I drop my pen and let out a soft sigh before picking the papers back up. They linger in my hand for a moment as I debate prying just once more, to let her know I can obviously tell something is bugging her, but forgo it. I extend my arm with the papers, but a knock startles us both out of the menial task.

"Serena?" I look to my doorframe to discover Katzie Prescott bursting through, practically shoving a manilla envelope into Serena's hands. "Sorry, running late to a meeting. Take a look and sign where flagged. Let me know if you have questions. Oh, hi and bye, Darien," she politely adds.

Serena smiles, but it's fake. So obviously fake. She nods her head and returns a quiet thanks to Katzie, who breezes out of my office without missing a beat. Serena's head drops as she takes a long, silent look at the envelope, and it all clicks.

Divorce papers.

Serena remains silent for a moment longer before she lets out an odd laugh and shakes the content in her grip. Her laugh is definitely not one of sadness, which makes me second guess my original conclusion, but it's not necessarily a happy one, either.

"At least now that's done," she mutters before turning back to me. Her eyes glance to my hand, where I'm still holding onto the papers she needs, communicating to me clearly that she's not going to digress. And despite my questioning stare, my shoulders leaning forward and ready for her to tell me anything, anything at all, I surrender and hand off the paperwork.

She replies with a quick "thank you" before walking out the door, a hasty exit. I drop my head into my propped up arm and scratch at my head. I'm at a total loss of what to do here. Now, going forward… I have never been so fucking confused before.

I mean, we don't really talk. We've talked at work, and we've had our moments here and there, but there hasn't ever really been this chatty relationship with us. Maybe that's my fault. Maybe I get too far up my own ass about boundaries. Well, not too far up, clearly, because I slept with her. And that's another thing. Clearly there was mutual interest. How does that just disappear? I mean, there was so much more than trading looks across the table at all of those meetings. The subtle foot touches, or the times she'd be next to me, cross her legs, and rest her calf to where it was barely brushing up against me? Yeah. So, it wasn't like it just suddenly disappeared. There's no way.

And not to mention, we did have fun that night we went out to dinner. That one night… months ago.

I wince. Ok, that's bad.

Have I done anything for her? Anything that isn't… because of work?

Nope.

I slouch back in my chair and ponder my revelation. Could that be it? She's distancing herself because she doesn't feel like I care about her? I mean, it's a plausible thought. I could up the charm a bit more, maybe? I just need to do it in a discrete way is all.

No, no that can't be the only thing. The envelope. The hypothetical papers. Maybe that's what's causing this. I mean, she was only separated. Jumping from filing separation papers to divorce papers in, what, six months? That's really quick.

Something had to have happened.

Quietly, I get out of my chair and make my way towards my bookshelf, but not before stealing a glance out at her desk. Serena's bangs effectively cover her eyes, but she's definitely reading something. And thoroughly. Suddenly her hand lifts, fingers running through her hair and I am able to catch a glimpse of snapped eyebrows. Just as the hand falls back down, I watch her other arm scribble ferociously, followed by a slamming of the writing utensil.

I quickly snap my head back toward my bookshelf, pull out a random book and open it, but I can see in my periphery Serena stuffing the distinct blue and white papers into an envelope. As soon as the rustling stops, she's like the wind, billowing out of her cube and is off down the hallway in a rush.

Ok, so, maybe it wasn't me.

Now, more than ever, I feel like I need to do something for her. One, because it doesn't matter where your mind is – divorce is rough at any stage, and two, because she's officially getting divorced.

And I'll be damned if I let her slip away.