Chapter 16
Ryan
At least she hadn’t said yes. I’d take an “I don’t know” any day over “yes, I still want a divorce”.
While I was trying to figure out how to respond to that, Melanie stood up and announced that she was going to grab a few things from her closet.
I jumped up and blocked her way, and she took a step back and glared at me.
“Just hear me out, please. Stay here. There’s no need for you to leave. I’ll move into the guest room if you want me to. I’ll leave you alone. I’ll stay out of your way. I just hate the thought of you living somewhere that isn’t under the same roof as me, even temporarily.”
Melanie shook her head and gave me a sad smile.
“I need to think, Ryan, and I need space to do that. Space that doesn’t include you.
Our problems go beyond this weekend. They’ve been building for well over a year.
You’ve changed, and I’m tired of fighting with you about it.
I honestly don’t want to live with the man you’ve become.
I need to know that the man I fell in love with is still in there somewhere, because I haven’t seen him for an awfully long time. ”
I blinked rapidly to fight the tears pricking my eyes at Melanie’s brutal honesty, then stepped aside in defeat so she could get to the stairs.
She came down a few minutes later with a canvas tote bag slung over her shoulder, stuffed full of clothing, with her favorite sweater folded up on top.
I stopped her as she reached for her coat.
“Would you be willing to do some joint counselling sessions with me?”
She hesitated, then told me that she had a session scheduled for Friday morning at ten. “It’s a solo session, but I’m sure Kim would be OK meeting with both of us. I’ll text you the address.”
“I’d be happy to pick you up. Maybe we could grab some breakfast first?”
Mel slipped on her coat and zipped up, then turned to face me. “I think it would be best for us to meet there.”
I nodded, agreeing only because she gave me no choice.
She started to open the door, the stopped and looked at me over her shoulder. “I picked Kim because she also specializes in grief counseling. I know you didn’t want to consider it before, but I really think it might help. I’ll leave it up to you if you want to work with her on that.”
She slipped out the door before I could say a word, and I spent the next few hours replaying every minute of my conversation with not only Melanie, but also with Tanner and Garrett.
My mind was still blown by the fact that my sons seemed to dislike Mitch as much as my wife did. How had I not seen that?
You did see it, you just ignored it, that little voice I’d been hearing all weekend whispered in my ear.
I thought back to all the times Mitch had come around since he’d moved back to town. The boys had never seemed all that happy to see him, but I’d just put that down to the fact that they were teenaged boys who weren’t happy about much of anything except for teenaged girls.
I recalled all the invitations I’d extended for the boys to join us for Pacers or Colts games, or to play golf, or to go out on Mitch’s boat.
They turned me down just about every, single time.
I’d assumed they were just too old and too cool to want to hang out with their dad, and maybe that was part of it.
I had a feeling that the bigger issue was Mitch himself, though.
I had a sudden flash of memory from the one and only time they’d gone out on the boat with us.
Mitch had pulled up next to a boat full of college coeds and flirted his ass off, while also trying to play wingman for the boys, who were barely seventeen at the time.
They’d been embarrassed, and I’d had to pull Mitch aside and quietly tell him to knock it off because he was making my sons, as well as the young ladies, uncomfortable.
He’d teased Tanner and Garrett about it for the rest of the afternoon, and I’d thought it was good-natured teasing.
Looking back on it, especially if I put myself in their position, it looked a lot like taunting and bullying, and I’d stood there and let it happen with a grin on my stupid face.
I wanted to kick my own ass and then kick Mitch’s.
I finally couldn’t take being stuck in the house with only my thoughts for company and headed to the gym.
Since my hand hurt like hell, I settled for a grueling run on the treadmill, then showered and changed in the locker room before heading into work for the afternoon.
I stuck my head into Dave’s office to let him know I was back.
He motioned for me to take a seat, then cocked his head and studied me with concern. “It’s not my business, and you certainly don’t have to tell me what’s going on, but is everything OK? You looked tired Monday, but you like you’ve been to hell and back today.”
I tried to smile, but it wasn’t convincing. “Yeah, we just have some family stuff going on. I’m sure it will be fine, but in the meantime, I’ll probably need a few hours off here and there. Friday morning, for sure.”
He just shrugged. “You’ve got plenty of paid time off available, so take off whenever you need to and we’ll work around it. Just add it to your shared calendar so everyone knows that you’ll be out of the office and unavailable at those times.”
“Thanks, Dave,” I said as I got to my feet. “I really appreciate you being understanding.”
“No thanks needed. Just know that I’m here if you need anything. Put your family first, and don’t worry about this place. We can muddle along until you get things taken care of on your end.”
I shut myself up in the office and worked flat out for the rest of the afternoon, making sure to work on the more mundane things that didn’t require much thought or complete concentration.
My phone buzzed a little before five, and I bristled when I saw Mitch’s name on the screen. I clicked the button to send him to voicemail, and moments later a text popped up on the screen.
Mitch: Are you going to the game tonight?
Me: No
Mitch: Seriously? I know you’re pissed but come on. You can’t stay mad at me forever.
Wanna bet? I was thinking forever might not belong enough.
In what fucking universe did he think I’d be willing to hanging out at a ball game with him, when less than twenty-four hours ago he was bleeding on my living room floor and I was threatening to kill him?
After what he’d done, and the things he’d said about my wife yesterday, our friendship was over.
I just hadn’t officially pulled the plug and called time of death on it yet.
I’d be doing that tonight in the privacy of my home, though, not here in the office where my conversation could be overheard by my colleagues.
Even if he hadn’t pulled that stunt this weekend, it had been made abundantly clear that neither my wife nor my sons wanted anything to do with him, so he had to go. I only wished like hell I’d listened to them sooner. Maybe then I wouldn’t have fucked up so badly.
I stopped and bought a pizza on my way home from work, even though I didn’t have much of an appetite, then spent an hour going through the house and collecting everything that belonged to Mitch or was part of our shared activities.
I put it all in one corner of the garage – a sweatshirt I’d borrowed, his golf clubs that he stored at my place because he said he didn’t have room in his small condo downtown, the leather jacket he’d given me last Christmas, and the spare workout clothes he kept in a bag in my trunk in case he forgot his when we went to the gym.
I then went online and cancelled my membership at the upscale gym he’d talked me into joining, and purchased a new membership at the smaller, local gym I used to go to before Mitch moved back to Indy.
I also sent an email officially withdrawing from our men’s golf league for the coming year.
Mark wasn’t a big golfer, but he’d gone with me a few times over the years, as had Joe, Melanie’s dad.
I could always go with Dave, or some of the guys from work who liked to play, or maybe even convince my sons to go if they ever stopped hating me.
I steered my thoughts away from the boys, knowing I’d drive myself crazy if I kept rehashing the confrontation with them this morning.
As much as it hurt to hear, I was damned proud of those boys for standing up for their mother and calling me out on my shit.
It couldn’t have been easy for them, no matter how angry they were with me.
Finally, a little before seven, I sent a picture of all Mitch’s stuff to him, along with a text telling him to come by to pick up his shit.
Me: Pick it up tonight by nine. Otherwise, I’ll set it out in front of the garage in the morning, and you can pick it up tomorrow. I’m selling my season tix, too, so if you want to buy them, bring cash. If not, I’ll post them on the online ticket site.
Mitch: Are you shittin me?
Me: No, I’m just done.
Mitch: What the fuck do you mean, you’re done? Done with me???
Me: Yes. Your busted lip should have been your first clue
His red Corvette roared into the driveway twenty minutes later. I hit the button to open the overhead garage door before he even had a chance to get out of this car and started pulling his shit outside.
He popped his trunk open, the stomped over to me and grabbed his things. He shoved the golf clubs in the trunk and slammed it shut, then tossed the rest of the shit in his passenger seat.
I watched him with narrowed eyes, then asked if he wanted to buy the tickets or not.
“No, I don’t want to buy the fucking tickets. Are you really doing this? Throwing away almost thirty years of friendship over one stupid move on my part?”
“One stupid move?” I scoffed and shook my head. “Try a series of stupid moves, treating my wife like shit, and being a toxic asshole. Yeah, I’m really doing this.”
“Un-fucking-believable, man. Grady’s probably rolling in his grave right about now,” he said bitterly.
I stiffened, stunned that he would bring Grady into this.
“That’s a low blow, motherfucker, and you know it. If Grady were here right now, he’d beat your ass for the way you’ve acted and then beat mine for going along with it.”
I stepped back and pressed the button to lower the door, calling out, “Grow the fuck up, Mitch, and start acting like a decent human being.”
“Fuck you, Ryan!” He shouted loud enough that I was sure my neighbors heard, but I was beyond caring. I made it back inside in time to watch from the living room window as he reversed out of the driveway, then fishtailed his car as he floored his engine and roared off into the night.
I closed my eyes and whispered an apology to Grady. “I’m so fucking sorry, man. I would give anything for you to be able to beat my ass right now, because God knows I deserve it. I fucked up so bad with Mel, but I swear to you, I’ll make it right with her.”