Page 5 of Big Girl Panties

"God, would you rather I have lied to you?" He shoved his hand through his hair. "I told you so we could fix us, not to get divorced."

The sad part was, this whole fight wasn't even about me. It was about the career he thought he was going to lose, like I was some kind of professional accessory he couldn't afford to misplace.

"Look, Chris, I'm glad you were honest with me." I folded my arms across my chest, my voice taking on the tone I used with difficult customers at the café, pleasant but with steel underneath. "I wish you had told me earlier, like before we got married, or maybe even before we started dating, but I understand now that you needed me to advance in the firm."

"I didn't need you to move up," he cut me off, sounding like a politician denying obvious facts.

"Right." I nodded slowly, my sarcasm thick enough to spread on toast. "You needed me to move up as quickly as you did."

He shook his head, but the flush creeping up his neck told me we both knew I was right.

"I completely understand you wanting that," I continued, my heel tapping against the elevator floor in rhythm with my words, "but what I don't understand is how you thought I was so desperate that I would be okay with you sleeping with another woman while I worked on myself for you."

I squared my shoulders, drawing myself up to my full height. My hands dropped to my sides, fists clenched, nails biting into my palms. "Honestly, Chris, you can go fuck yourself."

His hands slammed against the elevator walls on either side of my head. The metallic bang echoed in the confined space. His ragged breathing fanned across my face, and suddenly his cologne wasn't just annoying… It was suffocating.

"You will regret this." His finger jabbed toward my face, stopping inches from my nose, and the vein in his forehead pulsed in his temple like a really angry mood ring.

"Chris." My voice was steady despite feeling like I was trapped in the world's worst escape room. My palms pressed flat against his chest, feeling his heart hammering like it was trying to break free. When I shoved, he barely moved, but something inside me shifted, not breaking, but transforming into something stronger.

"Do you know why I told you the truth?" His breath was hot against my skin as he leaned closer, and I had to fight the urge to recoil. "Because the thought of having sex with you made me physically ill."

The words hit like a slap, and for a moment, the elevator walls seemed to close in. My chest seized, breath catching somewhere between my ribs and throat. My face flushed hot, then cold.

But I wouldn't let him see it break me. Instead, something wonderful happened: I realized I didn't care. Not about his opinion, not about his approval, not about any of it. I lifted my chin and met his eyes. "Are you finished?"

He stepped back, straightening his red tie like he was trying to regain some dignity, and I reached out, slamming my hand against the button.

The elevator lurched back to life.

"You will never find anyone as good as me," his eyes raked over me with disgust, "as long as you look like that."

I almost laughed. After everything, that was his closing argument? "I'm okay with that," I said, realizing I genuinely meant it.

The elevator door chimed open, and I side-stepped around him with the grace of someone who'd just remembered how to be herself.

"Do you really know what you're doing, Brooke?" Chris's voice chased after me, a desperate last attempt to regain control.

I paused outside the elevator doors, one foot already pointed toward my future. My shoulders, which had been hunched for months, rolled back as I twisted to face him. A slow smile spread across my face.

"I'm putting on my big girl panties and doing what I have to do." My eyes met his, unwavering, as a courthouse aide hurried past with an armful of files. I inhaled deeply, the musty courthouse air suddenly smelling like possibility. "And that starts with divorcing you."

His mouth twisted with anger, lips thinning to a bloodless line. His head recoiled with surprise, like he couldn't believe his manipulation hadn't worked.

"Good luck, Chris." I adjusted my purse strap; the weight of it was suddenly lighter on my shoulder. "I hope you find whatever you're looking for."

I spun around, my heels clicking a victory march against the tile floor as I walked away without looking back, each step carrying me further from the woman I'd been, and closer to the one I was becoming.

Chapter 2

The Biggest Loser

Sliding into the U-shaped booth beside John, I hung my head while my so-called friends were still cackling like hyenas over my spectacular failure. Dallas had bet me I couldn't suplex Big Bam, and apparently my ego wrote checks my biceps couldn't cash.

"I thought you were going to cry when he picked you up like a toddler," Travis wheezed, wiping tears from his eyes.

"Very funny." I rolled my eyes. "Can we get this over with? Pick someone before I die of embarrassment."