Chapter 36
Riggs
Calla has been avoiding me since the article broke. So has Zoe. Without work to distract me, I spend my days trying to figure out how to win back my wife and mend fences with my daughter. The redecorating for the primary bedroom and bathroom started this morning; another reminder that Zoe turned my world upside down before leaving. Still, I keep everything as Zoe planned in hopes she’ll move back into the house. She only took one bag. Most of her clothes still hang in my closet, alternating between mocking me and giving me hope.
I glance at the clock, but it’s only 10:30 in the morning. I made myself a promise that I wouldn’t start drinking today until at least 3:00 PM. That was my promise yesterday, too, but I only made it until noon. It’s pathetic, but with nothing to take my focus off missing Zoe, I can’t seem to pull myself out of this funk. Everything important to me is lost.
To add more crap to my shit sandwich, another story broke last night. It had a picture of Zoe talking to Bull outside of Vintage Ink. The headline read: This Little Gold Digger Has Her Sights on a New Man. Even though I know there was nothing true in the article, it still hurt. I kept analyzing the photo, trying to determine if she’s as miserable as me. Her words when I finally told her I love her ringing in my ears.
It’s too late.
Is that true? Was I too late in telling her I love her?
Of course, I was. I should’ve told her that the moment we woke up married. Instead, I acted like we would just see how things were going and could separate after Titan’s merger with Rev Sports if that’s what she wanted. It’s no wonder she wasn’t moved by my declaration.
Fuck it. I’m thirsty now.
I grab the almost empty bottle of whiskey I started last night, taking it, along with a new one Mitch brought, and go to my media room. It’s nice and dark in here. Just like my mood.
I unscrew the lid on my whiskey bottle as I settle into the couch to watch the video of my wedding to Zoe, the happiest day of my life. On the big screen, it’s easy to see we’re in love even though neither of us had admitted, or even realized, it yet. Drunk or not, that day was perfect.
I continue to watch the video on repeat as I drown myself in the bottle, only stopping when I finish the first to move to the next. Soon my vision swims as the images on the screen blur.
This can’t be the way our story ends.
“Mr. Malone?” I open my eyes to find Indira, standing over me with her arms crossed. “I have a question about the closet.”
“Yeah?”
“We’re ready to start on that tomorrow. Would you like help packing up the clothing? I have wardrobe boxes you and your wife can use until we finish.”
I chuff. “She’s gone.”
Indira gives me a look of pity, and I realize what she must see. I’m passed out drunk in the middle of the day, wearing three-day-old sweats and a stained t-shirt. It’s no wonder Zoe left me.
“Does that mean you want help?” she asks with a raised eyebrow.
“I think I need help,” I admit.
She nods and turns on her heel, thinking I’m talking about the closet, but I need a different sort of help. I can’t continue on this path if I want my wife back. I need to get up and become the man she deserves.
I stand, swaying on my feet. Nausea hits, forcing me to plop back down on the sofa.
Tomorrow.
I’ll turn over my new leaf tomorrow.