Chapter 8

Odette

Wynn had the forethought to ask if Susan would watch Lux for the evening—she had known I wouldn't be okay, no matter what happened today. She had voiced her concerns that I would take one look at him and take him back.

She told me to take a good look at our relationship, and I did.

If I'm remembering correctly, things started to change around a year and a half ago.

Murphy became obsessed with making junior partner; he was so caught up in this glamorous lifestyle his superiors were living, he flung money around without a thought, and it sometimes made me cringe.

Why did he need eight thousand-dollar suits?

Why couldn't we just go eat at a burger joint instead of dragging our three-year-old to a steakhouse?

It had been subtle at first, but it became the norm.

I didn't know how I'd been so blind. I think I was just tired.

Even with the part-time help Murphy hired for me, I was still so busy between school and being a full-time mom.

There wasn't a single day that went by that I wasn't present for either dinner or bedtime—it had been my rule to myself to never miss both—and if I was given the option to catch a few hours studying in the library or go home, I had always chosen to go home.

I wanted spend as much time with my daughter and husband as humanly possible, even if that meant staying up until two or three a.m. studying.

Meanwhile, Murphy complained if he came home late and I was up studying, begging me to turn the light off so he could get some sleep.

Wynn forcing me to look at my relationship had opened my eyes; I think we had been broken for a while.

I'm still a little shaken that I had missed all the signs.

I worried that I was a smidge neglectful when it came to my marriage because I was so focused on being a mom.

But I pushed that thought way down, not wanting to reflect on it too much. ..at least not now.

With Lux being gone for the evening, Wynn gleefully showed me the bottles of wine she purchased, along with snacks, footie pajamas, and old horror films. I took my first breath that didn't feel like it was slicing me open since I left the mediator's office. This is exactly what I need.

" How'd you know this is what I would want?"

"Easy." She smirked at me. "It's the exact opposite of what I would want. I would want to be at a male strip club, literally paying to fuck some other guy."

"Oh my god, Wynn!" I slapped my hand to my mouth. "Thank F Lux isn't here right now, or I would smack you."

She tossed her long hair over her shoulder and looked at me without a hint of apology. "It's the truth. Get changed into those pjs and meet me down here in five; we have an epic girl's night to commence! Chop chop!" She playfully smacked my ass with a wooden spoon she grabbed from atop the stove.

"Okay, okay! You win, give me five minutes." I couldn't help but smile, and it felt like the first genuine smile to grace my lips in weeks . It felt good; I felt unburdened. Leave it to Wynn to pull me out of this.

Making my way downstairs, I took a closer look at what Wynn had planned. She really went all out. She was currently setting up what looked like a mini fountain of chocolate and cheese fondue, so many snacks for dipping, a few pints of ice cream, and way, way too many bottles of wine.

"How drunk are we getting tonight?" My eyes widened looking at what I was counting to be at least seven bottles.

"We have a lot of night ahead of us, and I don't want to run out or have to pay a ridiculous delivery fee."

"You can afford it," I reminded her.

"Not the point. Pick your movie." She pointed at the table which had many options fanned out, and I squealed in delight when I saw my favorite series ever.

I looked back to see Wynn rolling her eyes. "Let me guess, I Know What You Did Last Summer ?"

"Yes! I can't believe you bought these; you hate them."

"Yeah, but you don't." The way she said it, without even a second thought, made my heart swell, which was something I desperately needed.

"Have I ever told you that you're the best sister a girl could have?"

"Yeah, but not recently. Now go sit your ass in the living room; I'll bring you a plate and a bottle of wine."

I raised my eyebrow at her. "A bottle?"

"A bottle."

Since Wynn had such a dislike for the series I loved, she demanded we make a drinking game out of it.

Every time she deemed something cringe-worthy, we took a drink.

We were on our way to being intoxicated before either of us knew it.

The second movie was coming to an end when Wynn looked over to me, and I couldn't help the tears that flowed.

I laid down on my back with my gaze to the ceiling, hoping that would get the tears to stop.

"I wish I could take the pain away," she whispered.

"He changed." It was all I could bring myself to say. I had told myself no more crying, and here I was, not even twelve hours later, a sobbing mess.

"He did."

I forced myself to look at her. "You think so?"

"He's a douchebag now, sis," she said almost sadly.

"You know I didn't even really notice until I caught him?

He'll always be the guy who taught me how to ride a bike when I turned seventeen because no one ever did.

The guy wasn't mad when I crashed his car, which he spent two whole summers saving up for.

He used to cut all the crusts on my sandwiches because I hate the crusts.

He used to spend hours playing with my hair while Lux slept on either his chest or mine.

I used to fall asleep while he whispered how much he loved me, used to fall asleep while he kissed every single one of my stretch marks because I was embarrassed by them.

" The tears were cascading down my face now, and I couldn't stop them.

"When did he stop being that guy? How did we get here?" I cried, not able to stop the body-wracking sobs that took over.

Wynn did what she did best and held me together while my soul poured out in my tears.

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A banging, which I was pretty sure was inside my head, roused me from my unconscious, wine-filled slumber.

BANG. BANG. BANG.

I'm never letting Wynn talk me into this again, if this is how my head is going to feel after.

BANG. BANG. BANG.

Why is that so annoying? Why is it getting louder? I opened my eyes and realized it was not my head that was making that noise, but someone banging on the door. What the fuck?

"Odette!"

BANG. BANG. BANG.

Oh my god, it was Murphy. He was outside, banging on the door. I might still be a little drunk, but I was quickly sobering up. I turned on the entryway light so he knew I was here.

"Odette, please, please let me in."

I couldn't, I wouldn't.

I was nowhere near ready for this. Why couldn't he just do the one thing I had asked of him? Will it always be like this?

"I know you're in there."

I heard a shifting sound, then a bump on the door, and I figured out with a quick look out the window that he had sat down with his back to the door, his head in his hands. It looked like he was tearing at his hair. I backed away from the window as fast as I could so he wouldn't be able to see me.

"Okay, I don't know if you're there or not..."

I heard him sigh and then what sounded like him choking on sob.

"I need you, baby. I just...I need you. When I saw you, I was so sure you would leave with me.

" His ‘S’ were slurred, and I knew he had been drinking.

"Please, Odette, don't leave me. I thought our life was boring; I don't want to tell you this, but I have nothing left to lose, so I might as well be honest. I was wrong. ..so wrong, so s-s-stupid, selfish."

He was talking in circles, but he was crying. I've known my husband for a decade, and I've seen him shed exactly two tears. One, when his daughter was born, and one in that mediation room. It brought me to my knees, and I hugged myself at the door, mimicking his position on the opposite side.

"I was wrong! " he shouted, whether it was to me or to himself, I'll never know.

"You hate me, but I hate me more..." he sobbed.

"I don't know how to do this without you..." he whispered. The silent tears I'd been doing my best to hold in overtook me. A random breeze caused me to raise my head from my lap, and my eyes met Wynn’s, who was also crying.

She was witnessing the end of a marriage, and it was heartbreaking.

She pulled me up and out of the way, then stepped outside.

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