Chapter 11 #2
“No.” C grimaces. “Of course not.” He glances at the doorway, like he can see her ghost standing there.
“Our last fight was a couple weeks back. I don’t even remember what it was about.
Nothing noteworthy. But for about a week, she’s been quiet.
I thought she was stressed about the show. She’s got a lot on her mind.”
“Did she ask you for help with that?”
“On and off.”
I raise my brows, asking the question without words.
“Come on, man, of course. Any time she wanted advice or a sounding board, I was there for it. I liked hearing about the show. It’s a different kind of business. Interesting.” He nods at the table.
I take a shot, but my mind’s not on it, and the ball doesn’t go in.
“We were still sleeping together. I fucked her about five hours before she packed her bags.”
That causes my brows to rise. “Anything—?”
“No. Nothing rougher than usual. Straight sex. She didn’t leave because of the sex or the kink.”
“So why did she leave?”
He shrugs, glancing at the pool table again. “I don’t know. She said she needs to give herself time to figure out what she wants her life to look like.”
It’s my turn to grimace. That’s a bigger problem than a fight. A bad argument blows over when cooler heads prevail.
“And you just… let her leave?”
C frowns. “Remind me, Trick. How many times did you let Laurelyn walk away?”
“Zoe is not Laurelyn. The best strategy with Laurel was to leave her alone. When she misses me, it’s easier to win her over. Plus, in the beginning, she needed to feel like she could leave if she wanted to.”
“Maybe that’s what Zoe needs.”
I cock my head. “I wasn’t there, but I doubt it.”
“Well, I was there, and I knew what the right move was. She reminded me that I promised her, if she ever decided to leave, I wouldn’t stop her or do anything to hurt her afterward.
She wasn’t playing a game to test me, Trick.
This wasn’t about wanting to see if I’d fight for her. Her mind was already made up.”
“So what did you say to her? When she reminded you that you promised to let her go?”
“I said, ‘Yeah, Z, you can go if you want. I’m not going to keep you here against your will. If you don’t want to be with me anymore, you should leave.
’ She just nodded. So I asked her, ‘You want to tell me what's going on?’ And she said, ‘I want to be more intentional in my life. And I need some time alone to understand what my intentions should be.’” C scowls. “Whatever the fuck that means.”
I lean back against the wall. “Did you guys ever talk about making changes? You’ve been pretty much twenty-four-seven in the roles. Maybe it got too restrictive for her? Did she say things to imply that?”
“I don’t know. Most of the time I don’t read Zoe by what she says.” He levels a stare at me. “I honestly can’t believe the way this played out. If one of us was going to have a girl leave because the relationship was too confining, you know all the bets would’ve been on you.”
I can sense the question in that statement.
He wants to know why I’m happily married and he’s unexpectedly single when his girl always seemed much more open to a wild and unconventional relationship than mine.
Normally when anyone asks me too many questions about Laurelyn and me, I tell him it’s none of his business, but I legit want to help C figure this out, so he can get Zoe back.
I can tell it’s what he wants, even if he’s not showing the signs outwardly.
“I don't know exactly how things changed for Laurel and me,” I say. “At the beginning, I expected everything to be my way. I pushed hard at her boundaries to see how she’d react. I wanted to be sure she’d stay in this with me.
I probably pushed her farther than I should have.
In fact, I’m sure I did. But I also told her the truth. She’s the love of my life.”
I run a hand over the table’s smooth edge.
“Kathleen helped me out, too, by telling Laurelyn what I’m like as a family man.
That made a difference for sure.” My thumb taps slowly on the table’s edge.
“When Laurelyn married me, that was a huge deal for me, in terms of my trusting her to stay. It made me want to earn her trust, too, in all the ways that matter. We’re in this for good, so we’re both trying to give the other person what they need to be happy.
She does things for me that she knows are important to me.
It’s really fucking sweet. I know I’m not easy to live with, so I try to counterbalance all the demands by doing things that’ll make her life easier.
And to show that it matters to me that she’s all right.
Like, I hired a full-time chef who’s on call for us.
She was like, we don’t need that. And I was like, I want that in place so there’s no pressure about cooking.
She can cook if she feels like it, but the rest of the time that’s covered.
Housekeeping too. We keep things pretty clean and orderly, but the heavy duty stuff, I’ve got someone to do it.
We’re both working, and a baby’s a lot of work, especially for a woman who’s working from home.
When the baby comes, I don’t want her whole life to feel like work.
That grinds people down. So I just moved forward with the chef.
We tested some people out and now the guy’s living across the street.
The groceries, menus, meal prep and clean up are all covered now.
There are some ready-made things in the fridge and freezer so he doesn’t need to come to the house until she texts him.
But when my sister and mom were over for brunch, all Laurelyn had to do was open the door for them.
Eggs Benedict, French toast, omelettes. Whatever they wanted, he made.
By a week into having him, the routine is down and she said, when the time comes, the guy says he can make fresh, organic baby food for the kid.
So just like that, I’m the wonderful, genius husband who provided the means for her baby to get food with no chemicals in it.
That’s something she wouldn’t have had time to do herself while trying to navigate her new life as a working wife and mother. ”
C nods. “A personal chef. No wonder you’re popular.”
I chalk my cue. “I working that angle, for sure. Because I am hardcore in the bedroom and she plays along.”
“But how’d you even think to hire a chef?”
“I’m the analyst, so I read a bunch of parenting blogs to see what normal people struggle with and worry about.
Then I started coming up with strategies to do what I can to make being a new mom less overwhelming for her.
Not that I think she needs me to. She’s really fucking tough.
Tougher than I realized. She never complains or acts worried.
And I guess that makes me want to do even more things.
I feel like if she’s not going to ask for anything, it’s up to me to figure out how to help her. ”
C rubs his jaw and then nods.
I glance over at him. There’s one thing we haven’t talked about yet. I’m hesitant to bring it up, but I know that if we’re having this conversation, it needs get addressed.
“C, Zoe made it known that there was one thing she wanted. Have you thought about playing that card?”
“No,” he says without looking at me. He examines the table. “The timing wasn’t right. It’s still not.”
I don’t answer because I disagree. She wanted to marry him. He claimed she wasn’t ready for that. She left. It seems to me that the person in the relationship who wasn’t ready to get married wasn’t Zoe. If that occurred to her too, it might be what made her decide it was time to move on.
“C—”
“Come on, let’s play,” he says, nodding at the table.
Apparently we’re done talking about Zoe for the moment. I let it go, but I’d bet someone six figures C’s not done with her, which means no matter how easily he let her leave, they are not done.