The Day I Divorced Him, I Became His Landlord novel · Chapter 3 of 24

Chapter 3: The Doctor at Eight

At the Sunday wine club brunch the doctor arrives with two aides and an emergency evaluation order. Marisol reads its date aloud, three weeks old, and sends him away in front of forty phones. Lillian hands her a small bottle of vitamins, and Wyatt tells her not to take another.

At seven forty-five on Sunday morning, forty members of the Ashbury Cellars wine club sat down to a sunrise harvest brunch on the terrace.

I came out to meet them in a red softball jersey.

Joaquin had found it in the bottom of his duffel, folded under a pair of my old jeans.

My mother had packed it five years ago, and he had never taken it out of the truck.

The terrace looked over the vines, and every table had a card with the Ashbury crest.

Courtney moved between them with a tablet, in a cream dress and a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

Conrad stood at the head table in a navy blazer, pouring coffee for a retired judge.

He saw me, and he didn't blink.

"Marisol, there you are." He opened his arms for the room. "She's been under such strain."

A few heads turned.

I stayed where I was.

"Conrad, who is that coming up the steps?"

A gray sedan had pulled in by the gate, and a man in a pressed shirt climbed out of it with two young men in polo shirts behind him.

Conrad had timed it for the moment the guests were seated.

"Darling, this is the doctor who helped us before." He kept his voice soft. "He only wants to take you somewhere quiet for a few days."

I had never seen him in my life.

The doctor put on a kind face.

"Mrs. Ashbury, your husband has asked for an emergency evaluation. We can do it comfortably, at a facility, and you'll be home before the weekend."

The two men in polo shirts stepped closer.

Behind them, I saw the winemaker standing at the edge of the terrace with a crate of grapes on his shoulder.

He set it down and didn't move.

"I'd like to see the order," I said.

The doctor handed me a sheet from his clipboard.

It had Conrad's signature at the bottom, and a stamp.

I read the top line, then I read it aloud so the whole terrace could hear.

"Emergency evaluation of Marisol Ashbury, filed by her husband. Dated August thirtieth."

I let that sit.

"That was three weeks ago, doctor. Which of us has been unwell for three weeks?"

The retired judge put down his cup.

"Mrs. Ashbury," the doctor said, "the date isn't relevant."

"When did you last examine me?"

"I haven't conducted a formal examination."

"Then what did you evaluate?"

"Your husband's account."

Two tables away, a woman lifted her phone.

Then another guest did.

Joaquin stood at the rail with his own phone up and his face perfectly flat.

Conrad stepped between us.

"Everyone, please. She's confused. This is exactly why we need him."

"I know where I am," I said. "I'm on my own terrace."

A rustle moved through the wine club.

I turned to the doctor.

"My family's lawyer is in the house. You can wait for him, or you can go."

The doctor looked at Conrad, and Conrad looked at the guests.

He had no way to say no without every phone catching it.

The doctor tucked the clipboard under his arm and walked back to his sedan.

His two assistants followed, and nobody stopped them.

Conrad's jaw worked.

"You've made your point."

"I haven't made it yet," I said.

He took Courtney's elbow and steered her into the house.

She glanced back at me once, and I looked at her until she looked away.

Lillian appeared at my shoulder with a coffee pot.

She had been standing by the pastry table the whole time, and now she touched my arm with a worried frown.

"Oh, dear," she said. "I told him that was too much. Are you all right?"

"I'm fine."

"You always say that." She tucked a small white bottle into my hand and closed my fingers over it. "You skipped your vitamins yesterday. Take one with your coffee. It will settle you."

I almost took it.

Five years of habit is not a thing you drop in a night.

I slid the bottle into my pocket instead and went to find a clean cup.

The brunch went on around me, with the judge asking quietly whether I might sell the estate's Cabernet and a woman I had never met squeezing my hand.

I answered all of them.

I said I was fine, and I meant it, and I was shaking so hard I had to hold the cup in both hands.

When the terrace emptied, I walked to the end of the stone wall and sat down on it.

Footsteps came up behind me.

Wyatt Larkin stood a polite distance away, his hands in his jacket pockets.

"You read it out loud," he said.

"It seemed like the thing to do."

"That's the first time anyone's done it."

I looked up at him.

He didn't elaborate.

His gaze dropped to the pocket of my jeans, where the little bottle made a lump.

"Whose is that?"

"Lillian's. Her vitamins." I almost laughed. "She's been giving them to me for years."

His face did not change, but he went very still.

"Don't take another one," he said.

← Chapter 2 · All chapters · Chapter 4 →

Want to keep talking to characters like these? Chat with AI romance characters: AI Boyfriend · AI Girlfriend · Dark Romance · Fantasy Romance · BL (Boys’ Love) · Billionaire Boyfriend · Mafia Boyfriend · Possessive Boyfriend · Hockey Boyfriend · Older Boyfriend · K-Drama Boyfriend · Anime Boyfriend · Vampire Boyfriend · Werewolf Boyfriend · Demon Boyfriend · Fae Romance · GL (Girls’ Love) · Anime Girlfriend · Goth & Alt Girlfriend · Gamer Girlfriend · Tsundere Girlfriend · Fantasy Girlfriend