46. Adam
Adam
I ’ve been an irritable asshole. My parents told me my words have consequences. I thought they were joking and used it as a scare tactic. Turns out they were right. Parents usually are.
Chelsea is still holding strong. We’ve tried mediation but that got us nowhere. Now we’re waiting on a court date. So, yeah. Between Emily putting a pause, or a break, on us I’ve been an asshole. Maybe she was right to make that call. But she made the decision for me.
The only place I’m barely an asshole is at work. And I mean barely. I tend to stay in my office the majority of the time I’m there. But today I’ve decided to help out at the bar. It’s not so busy for a Tuesday night, which isn’t unusual. But it’s summer.
Movement from the corner of my eye takes me in that direction. And the last person I expected to come into my place of work was Mason Brooks. I don’t move from where I’m polishing a glass that’s spotless. I know it’s rude of me and I have a hunch I know what he’s about to say.
He takes a seat in front of me and waits until he recognizes I’m not about to say anything. “You know I broke up with Kamryn in college?”
My eyes fly up to him above the glass to see his gaze firmly fixed on me. Other patrons have started whispering about the Bengals QB being in my restaurant. But still, he pays them no mind.
“I know. How could a couple so perfect have broken up?” Mason makes a joke.
I put the clean glass back and grab another, filling it up with ice water and placing it in front of him.
Mason huffs out a breath, his hands encircling the glass. “I had my reason for doing it. But it doesn’t mean that decision didn’t affect me.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“My fiancé came home from work frustrated with a decision her best friend was thinking of making. I couldn’t see it at the time because I thought things just weren’t working out. But then Rynny compared it to our break up.”
“No offense,” I start and pick up another glass to polish. “But our situations are nothing alike.”
“You’re right. They’re nothing alike. But the pain is all the same.”
I look at Mason and the haze from my heartache clears just a little. “I miss her more than anything. And maybe…maybe she was right to break us up. Maybe I should have prepared her for what’s to come.”
“Do you love her?”
“More than anything,” I confess.
“Then hold onto that.”
I get home from work exhausted. Being angry does me no good. Missing Emily does me no good either. But being angry has also kept the fight for my son alive.
I see Jenny on the couch with her Kindle in hand. “How was he?”
“Good,” she answers with a tight smile.
I fall on the far side of the couch with a bone-weary sigh.
Jenny stands up from the couch and heads toward the guest bedroom. “Adam?”
I turn my head towards her in a sign of acknowledgment.
“For what it’s worth, I’m rooting for the both of you.”
I let her words sit a little. Mason’s words from earlier come back. To hold onto the love that I have for Emily in hopes that we can be better than the before.
“Goodnight, Jenny,” I say after a few seconds from my spot on the couch.
“Night, Adam.”
Jenny retreats to the guest room and I bask in the silence of my house. I get up and wander over to the bar and pour myself a double shot of whiskey before heading out to the backyard. Every spot out here is tainted with Emily’s touch. In the few months we were together, we were wrapped up every chance we got.
Did we move too fast? Did I push her? No, that couldn’t have been the case. She was all in as much as I was.
Dylan starts school tomorrow. I can’t believe I’m about to have a second grader. I whip out my phone to text Emily but stop. She hasn’t reached out and I need to respect that. I knock back the rest of my drink and head to bed.
My alarm goes off way too early. The pounding in my head from the whiskey does nothing to help either.
Throwing my feet over the side of the bed, I blindly walk to the bathroom to take care of business. I throw on a pair of jeans with a long-sleeved henley and push the sleeves up to my elbows. I’m walking downstairs to the tune of the morning news along with Dylan and Jenny talking animatedly.
“Morning, buddy. Excited for your first day?” I ask and kiss him on the top of the head before heading to pour myself a cup of coffee.
“Yeah. But what if I don’t know anyone in my class?”
I take a healthy sip of the strong bean water and sit next to Dylan. “I’m sure you’ll know plenty of kids in your class. Sandra said Jackson is supposed to be in your class.”
“Oh, yeah,” Dylan says like he forgot. Which, to be fair, he probably did forget.
“You’re good to take him to school?” Jenny asks while she puts her books in her backpack.
“Yeah, all good. Get to class.”
“Okay. Bye, Dylan. Have a great first day. I want to hear all about it when you get home.”
“Bye,” he says around a mouthful of cereal.
I look at my little boy who has no idea of the changes that have happened. He thinks Emily got another job because that’s what I told him when she stopped coming over. The lying hurts. The hurting hurts.
The time on the clock reveals it’s time to go. And I think I’m more nervous than Dylan.
“Time to go kiddo. Go get your shoes on,” I order as I put his bowl in the sink and pack up his lunchbox.
“Here’s your shoes, Daddy.” Dylan drops my boots with a thud by my barstool.
I smirk as I walk to them and slide them on. “Thanks, buddy.”
Three minutes later we are out of the house with the windows down and the music playing a radio classic. Dylan chitter-chatters over the music like he hasn’t spoken in a year in the backseat. I don’t respond because he’s always chattering away. We pull into the backed-up school drop-off line and my heart is in my throat. I have no clue if Emily does drop-offs because we never talked about that part of her life.
I’m an idiot.
My hands sweat and I grip the steering wheel tighter as we inch closer to the entrance. Our truck and two others are the next bunch for drop-offs. When we get to the front of the line, I see her. My gaze hones in on her like a laser beam. As soon as I stop the truck Dylan opens the door to leave.
“Hey, mister!” I call out and tap my cheek for a kiss before he hops out of my truck.
Dylan pecks my cheek with a slobbery kiss and I’m a bad father if I say that my focus has been on Emily the entire time. Does she think about me?
She gives Dylan a warm smile when he walks over to her. I never thought I’d be jealous of my kid. But I am.
I wait for her to look back up and when she does, I give her a small smile and a wave before I’m driving away from the school.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
I check my email while at a stoplight and see an email from Max. Reading the contents of the email, I get to the end and see a date.
“December?!” I screech when he answers the phone.
“I did my best to avoid going to court. But Adam, she’s making a good enough case,” Max tries his best to calm me over the phone.
“She’s not even thinking about Dylan and how this could affect him,” I say as I throw my head back against the headrest. “So what next?”
If Chelsea were thinking about Dylan, which I know she’s not, then maybe I could excuse her actions. But I can’t.
“CPS will come and do an interview and they’ll inspect Dylan’s home life.”
I grind my back teeth so hard they might crack. “Who’s getting interviewed?”
“You and Dylan.”
“He’s just a kid, Max,” I say as I swallow around the ball of emotions clogging my throat.
“I know Adam. I hate that this is happening to you. The court has assigned a social worker to your case. It’s standard for cases like this.”
Max explains what’s to happen next, but I black it out. December. We go to court in December. It’s then that I’ll let a judge listen to whatever lies Chelsea spews. I won’t let her take my son. She may have birthed him. But I was the one to love and care for him unconditionally. He’s mine. And he always will be mine.