Xander #2
“We are on the brink of finalizing our divorce,” I told her with a shake of my head, not believing it was even happening.
It was clearly happening, of course, but even when you were looking the evidence in the face, sometimes reality was hard to digest. “We were separated unofficially for a while and then we told the damn judge months ago that we were officially separated.”
“Your point?” she asked, but I knew she was being stubborn, partially for the sake of being stubborn because, God save me, that’s who she was, but also because she wasn’t happy with how the conversation was going. Hell, I wasn’t any happier, but well…here we were, anyway.
“You don’t get to be outraged because I’ve tried moving on,” I told her, and then raised a brow. “And don’t think I don’t know about those strings, not string, strings of boy toys you’ve been indulging in.”
She straightened her shoulders. “So what? You’ve clearly been getting one of your own.”
“Don’t,” I told her sharply. The fragile self-control I was trying my hardest to maintain, so this didn’t turn into another verbal brawl, wavered dangerously as I shook my head. “Don’t. Don’t go for him. He did nothing wrong.”
“Did he know you were—”
“Mona, stop harping on about our goddamn marriage,” I growled, snatching up the bags Colin had set to the side and putting them roughly on my desk as I opened the drawer.
There were a couple of bottles left in there, including the god-awful sounding blueberry whiskey that I still hadn’t touched.
I might be a bastard, but I wasn’t going to rob Cait of the opportunity to see me suffer from her weird-ass gifts.
There was another bottle though, normal whiskey, thank fucking Christ, and I opened it, pouring some into a glass.
“I see the drinking is well under control,” she noted scathingly.
I snorted, taking a drink. “Moving on to something else? Realized you couldn’t come at me for ‘cheating’ when our relationship has been over for what, three years?
Four? When you’ve been seeing other men ever since I officially moved my shit out and agreed to sign the papers?
When you knew damn well I had other women, nothing long-term or important, sure, but other women.
You knew that, there’s no point in harping on about that anymore, so you go for the drinking? ”
She gave me a sour look. “I notice you’re harping on about my harping rather than dealing with my point.”
“You don’t have a point, Mona. You have barbs, jabs, and a whole line of knives you want to stick in me and twist,” I told her bitterly, pouring some into another glass and sliding it toward her.
She eyed the glass warily and then glanced at the bottle.
Snorting, I twisted the bottle so the label was hidden.
“Take a chance; maybe it’s rotgut, maybe it’s good.
Find out and quit trying to check every detail. ”
Her look was withering, and she snatched the glass and took a drink. “Hmph, at least your alcoholism isn’t the cheap kind, not good for the long term though.”
“I’m hardly an alcoholic; that bottle has been open for two weeks.”
“I heard more than one bottle.”
“One’s been unopened in there for over a week, and the other has been in there for three months. Anymore cheap shots? Anymore excuses to hurt me?”
“Like I ever needed one,” she said, leaning back and looking me over. “And you don’t look all that hurt.”
“What?” I asked her as I slid down into my chair. “Do you expect me to wince every time you say something nasty? I would have been wincing for years.”
“Bastard,” she bit out. “You’ve always been a bastard; it just took me too long to see it. And now I’m treating you like the bastard you are, you want to complain? That was the problem.”
I snorted. “The problem is that you’re a raving bitch and I’m an unreasonable asshole.
Maybe if you'd calmed down sooner, or if I’d learned to talk about shit, we might have made it.
But we were never those people, not with each other.
So here we are, a bitch and a prick, standing on opposite sides.
So we can either start taking chunks out of each other, like we’ve done for far too fucking long, or we can accept that we’re never going to like each other. ”
“I love you still,” she admitted, dropping her head to look at her glass.
“And for you, I will always have love,” I told her softly. “But you and I both know that love isn’t enough. If it was, we wouldn’t be here, like we are.”
Her face twisted again, and she turned away. “Great, you sleep with some fucking guy and suddenly you’re all pearls of wisdom, maturity, and patience. Where the fuck was that in our marriage?”
“Not where it should have been,” I admitted, and she turned, surprise on her face. “What? It’s true.”
“I know it’s true, you rat bastard,” she scoffed. “Now you admit it?”
“Would you prefer I never admitted it at all? Is that what you want, to fight and fight and fight until one of us dies? Or hell, one of us snaps and kills the other?” I asked, tilting my head forward and eyeing her. “Like almost happened?”
She stared at me. “You’re going to bring up the knife incident? I was drunk—”
“And coked out of your head,” I added dryly.
“There is that,” she added with a sniff. “And yes, I might have been tempted to actually do some harm that night, but—”
“Mona, tell the truth, shame the devil. If I hadn’t backed off, if I hadn’t worked to make you put the knife down—”
Her throat worked, and she sighed. “Perhaps…maybe. Though considering the fights we’ve had in the past, I suppose it was inevitable.”
“Wanting to stab and maybe kill your husband while pissed off at him is not acceptable fighting,” I told her, and then spoke evenly.
“And neither is contemplating squeezing your wife’s throat until she can’t breathe.
Sitting there, staring at her, so tired and run down from all the constant fighting, meanness, and cruelty to each other.
Thinking maybe that was the only way to be free, the only way to make it stop. ”
Her eyes widened, and I could practically see her thoughts flying back through time. “That night when I woke up to find you sitting there…and you left.”
“And never came back while you were there,” I said with a nod.
“I don’t think I would have done it, not really.
But the thought was there, and it was a lot louder than I would have liked.
And I realized that even if I didn’t do it then, if I stayed, if we continued…
eventually that thought would get too loud.
And one day…one day I might just be willing to do the thing that drove me out of that house. ”
“Jesus,” she muttered, draining the glass and wiping her mouth. She looked around and moved toward the bed, then stopped. I couldn’t see her face, but I would bet she was thinking about what had happened in that bed. I said nothing and watched her as she huffed and turned back to me. “Really?”
I was hoping she was referring to what I’d told her and sighed.
“What do you want me to say, Mona? I’m sorry?
I was sorry and still am. It’s why I left and never came back.
It’s why I moved my things out when you were at a conference.
It’s why I’ve never been around you except in public.
Because all I could ever think about was that night, and how I never wanted to feel like that again.
I can stand to hate you, but I can never stand to feel like that for another person again… not when they don’t deserve it.”
She took a deep breath. “We really got that bad, didn’t we?”
“We did,” I said with a shrug. “Or at least I did.”
She turned away again, tilting her head back and staring at the ceiling with a deep breath. I considered filling my glass again, but set it aside. I should only have enough liquor to take the edge off; any more and I was inviting a loss of control I couldn’t afford around her.
I sat there instead, contemplating our lives, wondering what she had really thought was going to happen by coming here.
Thinking about what my whole life was amounting to now Colin and I’s secret was out.
I wasn’t sure if Mona could turn around and use that against me.
I couldn’t picture a way, but when it came to getting hers, well…
she could be as innovative as she was persistent.
As for the rest, I didn’t know how they were going to handle it.
I had to imagine the whole me being with another guy thing wasn’t going to be an issue when we had at least two other gay men on the payroll and the rest of them made me wonder sometimes.
No, but sleeping with one of our own when I was supposed to be their ‘Big Boss’ was something else entirely.
Fraternization wasn’t something the suits really worried about, but if there was enough of a fuss kicked up, that hammer could come down hard on me.
I suppose it was time to have a few regrets, or perhaps time to come up with a game plan.
Instead of doing either, I sat there and stared at Mona, waiting to see what she was going to do next.
She finally turned with a scoff. “Raving bitch, eh?”
I gave her a weak smile. “I was trying for something accurate without going too hard.”
“You’ve called me far worse,” she said with a sigh. “And I’ve done the same for you.”
“And around we go, repeatedly,” I said with a shake of my head.
She snorted. “You really waited until our divorce was legally inches from finishing to discover you wanted to get with a man? Really? After all those times we talked about it.”
“I didn’t feel it,” I said, cringing when she raised a brow. “Well, I didn’t!”
“Clearly you found a way to feel it,” she said dryly. “How about I say it was because he was just so good-looking you couldn’t help but change sexualities instead of saying I pissed you off bad enough to switch teams?”
“I’m still into women,” I said with a scowl. “I didn’t change teams.”