Chapter Seventeen
Lorelie
Calling your brother-in-law to deal with your cheating, lying, secretly-drinking husband might look like the easy way out, but it’s anything but. Right now I’m bathing my five-year-old because I’m simply not ready to face Patrick yet.
“Mommy,” Milo says from the tub.
“Yeah, buddy?” I answer, rinsing the shampoo from his curls. He squeezes his eyes shut, scrunching up his whole face. I pour clean water over him, washing the suds away. His eyes pop open again, bright and curious.
“When will my baby sister get here?”
I smile at his pouty little expression. “Not for a few more months, bud.”
Helping him stand, I pour warm water down his back, clearing the bubbles clinging to his skin. Once he’s wrapped in a fluffy towel, he looks up at me, suddenly serious.
“Will you still love me then?”
I freeze. My heart twists. I crouch to his level and brush wet hair from his forehead. “Of course I will, baby.”
His whole face lights up with relief. “And Daddy too?”
My throat closes, but I force the smile and the nod. “Him too.”
“Okay,” he says with the pure innocence only a child can have.
In his bedroom, I help him into his pajamas and take my time drying his hair. I keep running the towel over the same spot, pretending it’s still damp.
“Mommy, it’s done,” he says, gently pushing my hand away.
“Right.” I blink, hang the towel on the rack, and bite my lip to keep the sudden sting in my eyes from escaping.
“I’m hungwy,” Milo says, impatience creeping into his tone.
I take a steadying breath and glance at myself in the bathroom mirror. I will not break. Not in front of him.
Nodding, I take my son’s hand and we walk downstairs together. I get dinner started, moving through the motions on autopilot. The house feels quiet, except the sounds of Milo’s cartoons. Neither Harvey nor Patrick are in sight, but both of their cars sit out front.
Voices filter in from the garage.
I let out a long, tired sigh.
Mr. Mansini called earlier, right in the middle of my breakdown, and told me to come in for my next scheduled shift. “The issue has been resolved,” he’d said.
I should’ve felt relief. Joy. Validation.
Instead, there was nothing. Just a hollow space where the relief should’ve been, and the same dull, numbing betrayal that’s been sitting in my chest all day.
I’m chopping vegetables for the salad when the garage door finally opens. My shoulders tense, breath caught in my throat… and I exhale when it’s only Harvey who steps inside.
He stops at the threshold, eyes flicking to Milo’s back as he sits glued to the TV in the living room. Harvey walks closer and lowers his voice so Milo won’t hear.
“I talked to him.”
I don’t answer. I just keep chopping, the knife steady against the board even though my hands feel anything but steady.
Harvey sighs. “He didn’t deny it. Said he had a nightmare one night and went to the kitchen for water. Said he wanted to drink, but he’d already gotten rid of everything alcoholic… except the tequila in the freezer.”
My hand stops mid-slice. My voice comes out flat. “He hates tequila.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Harvey shrug. “He was desperate.”
I nod and bite my lip, then set the knife down because my fingers won’t stop trembling. “How didn’t I know…”
Harvey puts a warm, steady hand on my shoulder. “None of us did.”
I let out a small scoff. “You don’t live with him.”
The words scrape out of me, sharp with everything I’m holding in. “So… now what? He clearly can’t quit by himself.”
Harvey nods. “He can’t go to rehab either.”
“Why?” I ask, even though dread already curls in my stomach.
“With the complaint hanging over him,” Harvey says quietly, “even a hint of a drinking problem could cast doubt on him. It’d make everything worse.”
I shake my head. “I don’t see how that’s possible. Especially with that tape.”
Harvey’s mouth parts, stunned. “How do you know what’s on the tape?”
I pull my phone from my back pocket and open the video, the one I’ve watched more times than I want to admit. I hand it to him. He takes it, and I watch as a dozen different emotions flicker across his face. Confusion. Shock. Disbelief. Anger. Disgust.
He glances at me once, and I know exactly which part he’s at.
When he finally stops the video, he looks at me like he’s seeing a ghost. “You watched this.”
I nod. “Every frame. The only time she can claim force is when they disappear inside the bathroom.”
Harvey hesitates before asking, “You know he didn’t… right?”
I let him sweat for a full beat, maybe out of bitterness, maybe because I need that second to breathe. Then I answer, “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”
Harvey lets out a long breath, relief softening the tension in his shoulders. “We’ll have to get him into AA. And we’ll just… keep an eye on him.”
I turn to him, eyebrows raised. “You want me to keep an eye on him?”
He shakes his head immediately. “Of course, not just you. All of us. Me, Mom, Dad. We can help.”
“No,” I say quietly. “I mean… I can’t do this.”
Harvey’s brow pulls tight. “Do what?”
“I can’t pretend everything’s fine. Not even for Milo. I can’t carry this kind of stress.” My voice wavers, but I push through it. “I can’t keep acting like our marriage is alright.”
“What are you saying?” he asks, almost afraid of the answer.
My shoulders slump. “You saw the video, Harvey. Are you really asking me that question?”
He runs a hand through his hair. “I thought you guys worked through it.”
“We worked through the lie he told me,” I say, and the words feel like fire in my throat.
“What lie?”
I swallow hard. “He told me about her… but he made it sound like she came onto him. That nothing happened. That they didn’t even kiss.”
Harvey’s jaw tightens. “So, he lied.”
I nod. “I forgave him for her. I can’t forgive him for lying to my face.”
He drops his gaze, shame for his brother weighing down even his usually proud shoulders. “Can I ask you something?” he says quietly. “I’ll take him. He can come home with me. Just… don’t tell him it’s over. Not yet.”
My mouth opens, but he keeps going.
“He needs hope. Please. I know he doesn’t deserve it, but let him have that much.”
I stare at his pleading eyes. “Lauren will be fine with him moving in with you?”
Harvey looks away fast. “She… uh. Lauren moved out.”
The word rips out of me. “What? When?”
He swallows. “A while ago.”
I narrow my eyes. “Before the promotion ceremony?”
He nods once.
I knew there had to be a reason she didn’t attend the ceremony, even though she showed up for the dinner after.
I exhale slowly. “Okay. But I’m not lying to him.” I shake my head. “I won’t throw it in his face, but I’m not lying either.”
Patrick
I don’t know how long I stay in the cold garage. Long enough for the light outside the windows to disappear, for every breath to burn in my lungs. It’s pitch-black when the door to the house swings open, spilling harsh light that blinds me for a second.
I push up on unsteady legs as Harvey steps out and flicks on the overhead light. The bulbs buzz to life, washing everything in a yellow glare. He tosses a duffel bag at my feet.
I swallow hard. “What’s this?”
He just stares at me, his expression flat and unreadable. “You’re coming home with me.”
“What?” I shake my head. “No.”
He crosses his arms. “Not your decision.”
I move toward the door, planning to shove past him, but he clamps a hand around my forearm and stops me cold.
“Think about what you’ve done,” he says quietly. “Give your wife at least this much. Leave without making a scene.”
I turn toward the house, toward the faint sound of Milo’s cartoons drifting under the door. “They’re my family.”
Harvey steps closer, lowering his voice. “Then get better for them. Lorelie’s pregnant. She can’t handle the stress of getting you sober too.”
My jaw locks. “I’m not a child who needs to be watched.”
“No,” he says, his tone cutting and calm. “You’re a drunk. That’s worse.”
The words hit like a punch to the ribs.
He doesn’t give me time to argue. “Now you’re going to say goodnight to Milo. You’ll tell him you’re staying with me for a while and that you’ll see him tomorrow when we drop him at school.”
He waits, watching me with that stern, unflinching look that used to make me behave when I was a kid.
Only this time, it’s not big-brother authority he’s using.
It’s the truth I don’t want to face.
I nod reluctantly. “Fine.”
I grab the duffel, the weight of it nothing compared to what’s sitting in my chest, and walk toward the house. Every step feels heavier than the last. I don’t know what I’m going to say to Lore, and the truth is, I’m terrified to even see her.
Harvey’s right, though. Just because she isn’t throwing everything in my face doesn’t mean I get to ignore what she’s going through. She’s pregnant. She needs calm, comfort, space… not a husband who… not me.
She deserves to be pampered, protected, not stressed to the point of breaking.
So, I make myself a promise as I reach for the door handle.
I’ll stay with Harvey. I’ll get my shit together. And I’ll come by whenever she’ll let me, help with the kids, help with the house, with anything she needs.
I’ll show up for her. For Milo. For the baby.
Even if I can’t stay here tonight… I’m not walking away from them.
Turns out I’m worrying for nothing. Lore is nowhere in sight, and Harvey plants himself at the bottom of the stairs, arms crossed over his chest like a human blockade. I pretend not to notice that my own brother feels the need to shield my wife from me.
I crouch in front of Milo and block the TV. He groans and tries to lean around me.
“Daddy,” he complains.
I ignore the tone and turn the TV off. “Listen, buddy,” I start gently. “I have to go away for a few days.”
He crosses his arms, exactly like Harvey and narrows his eyes. “Why?”
I search for the words. “Well… Uncle Harvey needs help, so I’m gonna go stay with him for a little bit.”
His whole face lights in panic. “Can I come?”
I shake my head. “You have to stay here with Mommy and look after her, okay?”
Milo’s mouth twists. “No. I’m big. I can come. I wanna come.”
“I know, bud,” I say softly. “But you have to stay.”
He hops of the couch and steps closer, grabbing onto my shirt with both hands, tugging hard. “No! Daddy, no! I go too! I go wif you!”
“Milo-”
He stomps his foot, little jaw clamped tight. “NO! I don’t WANT you to go!” His voice cracks and rises into that sharp, desperate pitch kids hit right before they cry. “Stay here! Stay wif me!”
I swallow hard, keep my hands gentle on his arms. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? I promise.”
He pulls away so fast I almost lose my balance. His face scrunches up, angry tears gathering. “I DON’T WANT A PROMISE!” he yells, then spins around and bolts for the stairs.
“Milo-”
He doesn’t look back. His little feet slap against the steps, then a bedroom door slams so hard, it echoes in my heart.
I close my eyes, breathing through the ache in my chest.
Harvey’s voice is low in front of me. “Let him be. He’ll calm down.”
I bite down hard on my tongue to keep from breaking apart like a damn child. Every instinct inside of me screams at me to go after Milo and hold him until he stops shaking.
But I’ve lost the right to follow my instincts.
“Can I… say goodbye to my wife?” I manage, the words barely coming out of my throat.
Harvey doesn’t hesitate. “I don’t think that’s a good idea right now.”
I nod, jaw twisting as I try to hold my face together. My lips wobble anyway. I press them tight, swallow the lump clawing up my throat, and grab the duffel strap with a hand that won’t stop shaking.
With one last look around the house, my house, I head for the door. Harvey follows close behind, close enough that it’s obvious he doesn’t trust me not to bolt upstairs for a goodbye I’m not allowed to have.
Outside, the air is cold against my overheated skin. We get into his car, and I stare out the window as he turns the car around.
The porch light is off.
If that isn’t a sign, I don’t know what is.
A humorless scoff escapes me as I sink back into the seat. “Won’t Lauren mind me crashing?” I ask, my voice sounding like it’s coming from someone else.
Harvey doesn’t look at me. He keeps his eyes fixed straight ahead.
“Lauren moved out,” he says quietly. “You’re not getting out of this.”
My head snaps toward him. “Why?”
His hands tighten on the wheel, knuckles going white. “She met someone else.”
“What?” The word rips out before I can stop it.
He flicks me a sharp side-eye. “Don’t get too prissy. Didn’t you do the same?”
My jaw locks so hard it aches. “I didn’t leave Lore.”
He raises a brow. “No. You lied to her about what happened and then, instead of taking responsibility, you decided to get hammered every night.”
A bitter laugh slips out before I can stop it. “If you think so low of me, then why are you even helping?”
Harvey finally looks my way, his jaw tight. “Because you’re still my brother,” he says. “And I’m not about to leave Lore to deal with you alone.”
A small, disbelieving sound slips out of me. “Lore?”
Harvey slams on the brakes so hard the car jerks. I haven’t put on my seatbelt, so I go forward, smacking into the dashboard with a sharp grunt. Thank God there isn’t a car behind us or we’d be toast.
“What the fuck?” I snap, rubbing my chest.
Harvey keeps both hands locked on the steering wheel, knuckles pale. He doesn’t look at me. Doesn’t blink. Just breathes once, slow and controlled.
Then, in a voice that’s too calm to be anything other than a warning, he says:
“Don’t you dare imply what you just did.”
I don’t say a word. I just reach for the seatbelt and click it into place.
Harvey pulls the car forward again, the engine humming low, but neither of us speaks for the rest of the drive. I stare out the window, at the blur of streetlights and empty sidewalks, at everything I’m leaving behind and everything I managed to screw up in record time.
And all I can think is:
Why can’t I seem to do anything right?