Chapter Twenty-Eight
Wes
Adam: Troy wants to know if you want to get food after this.
Troy: Brennan wants to know if he can meet with one of us. Something he wants to talk about.
I may be jiggling my knees in a conference room chair that makes my ass hurt, but I also can’t hold back my smile.
Wes: Why are you both texting me separately? Aren’t you right next to each other in the car?
Adam: We decided to get out of the car. It’s a nice crisp day.
Troy: Yeah, love it when Florida winter sets in.
Wes: I don’t see how you think that’s different.
Adam: We were sitting. Now we’re standing.
Troy: And we’re outside.
A year ago, maybe even a month ago, I don’t think I’d have had the patience for their level of silliness. Now, I feel like I need it to breathe.
They make me forget all the serious shit I used to make myself miserable over.
It’s not as if I can control them, so why worry? Turns out I like it fine when they’re the ones controlling me.
“Wes.” Gina stares me down from across the table. It’s a look I’ve seen plenty of times over the years. Frustration and disappointment, with a heavy dose of “Do you see what I have to deal with?”
“Sorry.” I put my phone to sleep and place it face down on the table. Both of our lawyers are due here any minute. As soon as they arrive, we can sign the papers and be done with this entire thing.
Her nose scrunches up. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’ve seemed really strange lately. Especially since…”
“The word you’re looking for is kidnap. I was kidnapped, Gina. And yes, under the circumstances, I’m fine.”
“You forget I know you, Wes. And I don’t think you are. You’ve been missing work?—”
“Because I was kidnapped.”
“—and is that a bite mark on your wrist?”
I tug the cuff of my shirt down. This morning Adam and Troy wanted to reenact a scene from some vampire TV show they like. They thought it would be hot.
It was.
“Gina. It’s none of your business.”
“Wes. You’re not yourself. Just because we’re not together anymore doesn’t mean I can’t still care about you.”
Right now what I am is wishing I could go back to this morning in Adam’s bed with him and Troy sandwiched on either side of me. Or even a little later when Troy brought me coffee and overnight oats while I got dressed. The warm domesticity of it all still glows in my chest.
What my ex sees as cause for concern, I see as me finally waking up.
My temples throb. “Maybe not, but it does mean my personal life doesn’t have anything to do with you.”
It doesn’t escape my notice that everything coming out of my mouth right now sounds a lot like what my brother spent months saying to me before I finally agreed to butt out of his life.
Karma’s a real motherfucker, isn’t it? If I could afford it, I’d send a massive apology bouquet.
Gina’s lawyer walks in and drops his briefcase on the table. “Mr. Monroe, your attorney is, uh, parking his scooter. He’ll be up momentarily, and then we can get started.”
Fantastic. When money’s tight and you need to get a divorce, sometimes you’re forced to call on a recent law school grad who’s still living with his parents and is offering representation in exchange for gift cards to his favorite video game vendor.
Scooter and living accommodations aside, he’s a nice enough guy. And whenever I go to his house, his mother has brownies.
“Thanks,” I say.
I’ve barely managed to relax back in my seat when Gina bursts out with, “Sorry, Archie, can you actually give us a minute?”
“No. We don’t need—” But he’s already leaving. What does he care? He’s getting paid by the hour. I’ll probably end up owing mine another gift card.
“What are you doing?” I turn on my ex. “We’re this close to being rid of each other, and you want to—what?—interrogate me about my personal life?”
She sits back in her chair. “Your mother called me last night. She said you haven’t been answering when she calls. You haven’t even sent a text to check in.”
“I’ve been busy.”
“Fallon says he’s barely heard from you.”
“Again, busy. And stop talking to my family. They’re not yours anymore.” As soon as I say it I feel like an asshole. She legitimately looks hurt.
“Last few times I’ve tried to call you, it’s gone straight to voicemail.”
Still. “How is it that I’m the one with a recent head injury and you’re the one who doesn’t seem to remember what ‘busy’ means? Do you need me to get you a dictionary?”
“Do you even hear yourself right now? Do you realize how utterly bizarre you’re acting, Wes? You had a male escort in your hotel room. The same one, I believe, who I saw waiting outside the building on my way in here. You keep telling me you can’t afford to keep covering the mortgage?—”
Troy kissing the back of my neck as we woke up this morning. Adam sliding to his knees in front of me in the shower.
“Is that what this is really about? Because no, Gina, I’m not paying sex workers.
And I never could swing the damn mortgage, but here I’ve been working two jobs to make it happen because that house made my wife happy.
” I lean heavily on the word wife. “In a few minutes, you’re not going to be that anymore.
I don’t even care to dig into your implication that a person who gets paid for sex wouldn’t spend time with me otherwise, but I promise you I’m not paying th—him. ”
Now that I think of it, I haven’t paid for much lately. Since I moved in with the guys, somehow one of them always ends up ordering dinner, bringing me a smoothie, or grabbing us all coffee. Every time I try to return the favor, they brush me off.
That’s… Huh.
Gina’s staring at me as if she’s seeing a stranger. “Wes, I’m serious. This isn’t you.”
If we didn’t have papers to sign, I’d walk out right now.
“You’re right. It isn’t me because I’ve spent the better part of fifteen years either trying to make up for getting you pregnant or trying to make up for the fact that I couldn’t actually give you a baby.
And I’m sorry, but I’m tired. I don’t have it in me to give a shit anymore.
I will always care about you, but you’re the one who made the decision to go elsewhere. ”
The way she rears back, you’d think I’d slapped her. “I only strayed after you had completely checked out, Wes.”
I open my mouth to fire back, then snap it closed before I let anything come out. No good will come of revisiting the same old argument.
Finally, I say, “You’re right. I did. I’m sorry. What is this really about?”
She presses her fingertips against her forehead. “I don’t know. Now that we’re here, it all feels so final.”
“We’ve both moved on. Isn’t this what you wanted?”
She toys with the zipper tassel on her purse before finally admitting, “You were right, you know. Max is kind of a dick.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Trouble in paradise?”
“I think…I thought being with him would fix something. Lately I’ve realized how unfairly I treated you for things that weren’t your fault, and once we sign these papers there’s no fixing any of it, is there?”
There’s this theory I have, that we all carry around an invisible bucket of emotional shit. Mine’s chock full of old hurts, guilt about not wanting to talk to my mother, wondering who the real me is, and the fact that I can’t seem to sleep at night anymore unless I’m between two muscular young men.
This bomb Gina’s just dropped on the table? It’s one giant question too many.
“Maybe someday we can be friends again. But right now? No.” I shake my head. “You know it’s for the best. You deserve to be with someone who wants the same things you do. So do I.”
“And are they?” Her concern looks genuine, and that’s the part that hits the hardest. “Those two young men waiting for you downstairs? Do they want what you want? Are they what you want?”
Are they? I don’t know what the future holds, but I can close my eyes and smell them around me. Feel their tongues and their fingers on my skin. See Troy’s grin as he offers to order ramen for me and Adam stretching like a pleased cat when I run my fingers through his hair.
Right now? “Yes, they’re what I want. I didn’t expect it, but it’s the truth.”
“Okay. Good. That’s good.” She presses her lips together. I’m surprised to see the quick swipe of her hand as she dashes a tear from her cheek.
“Mr. Monroe?” My attorney pokes his head into the room. He’s got a bike helmet clutched under one arm. Jesus.
“I think we’re good here,” I tell him. I look to Gina to confirm. Thank goodness, she nods her agreement.
In the end, it’s a surprisingly efficient process to unravel fifteen years of life with another person, but after a review of our brief divorce agreement where Gina gets almost everything because I simply wanted to be done, we’re saying goodbye.
On our way out of the building, she puts her arms out for hug. “I’m happy for you.”
“Are you really?” I half laugh as I pull her against me.
She’s familiar and comfortable against me, but the hug feels strange. We don’t exactly fit anymore.
“I think…eventually I will be.”
Over her shoulder, both Adam and Troy look exceptionally put out by our amicable parting.
I try to give them a look that says , It’s fine. Stop looking at me like that .
Adam looks expectant. Troy scowls.
Finally we part ways, and I approach these two young men who have somehow pulled me into their spiderweb. Not that I want to escape them anymore.
“Everything okay?” Adam asks.
Troy, always a little more over the top, adds, “That didn’t look like a divorce hug. A little too much lingering, if you ask me.”
“It was a goodbye hug.” Surprising myself, I put one hand on each of their shoulders. I lean in to kiss Troy first, and then Adam.
When Gina and I were first dating I was uncomfortable even so much as holding hands in front of others. I didn’t want the curiosity or the judgment I could feel coming from other people when it came to public displays.
In light of recent events, I’ve decided life’s too short. I’ve chosen to control the controllables, and I can’t control what others think.
What I can do is choose to ignore them.
“You never did answer,” Adam points out. “About going to get food?”
“You’re the one who needs to eat regularly. What do you want?”
“Don’t worry about me. We grabbed a snack while you were in there signing the paperwork.”
“What about you?” I look at Troy.
“We’re straightforward, you know that.”
I laugh. They are, aren’t they? It’s one of the things I love about them. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing in any other part of my life, but with them things feel simpler. Easier. Like I can figure it all out, and when I do I won’t be alone.
For a second, I freeze. The first time I ever used the L word with Gina, we’d already been married for months. And here it is flitting through my head as easy as breathing.
My gaze swings between the two of them. Adam’s got his hair pulled back today, a few escaped strands blowing into those dark eyes I’ve learned I can easily get lost in. Troy’s jaw is set, and he’s still casting uncomfortable glances across the parking lot as Gina gets into her car.
Knowing they’re both here for me causes something in my chest to flutter. “You know what? Just take me home.”