Chapter Thirteen
Blue
Thank God for Lexi. She’s the only reason I’m sane right now.
Within a couple hours of West leaving, she facetimed me, not caring that it’s almost two in the morning.
She was up, saw me posting on social media, and hit me up to ask if I wanted to chat.
She didn’t lead by asking what’s wrong or why I’m up at this unholy hour.
She’s just been here for me, making me laugh, holding the phone when I run out of things to say.
“So… ready to tell me why you’re so tight?”
A laugh slips. “Um… tight?”
“You know, tense, stressed. I see it all over your face, hear it in your voice. What’s up?”
My silence probably confirms what she’s thinking, but I’m not sure I’m emotionally stable enough to answer. I mean, how do you tell someone that you and your husband can only communicate if you’re arguing, and he just walked out on you?
“Well?” Lexi presses.
I sigh into the phone, sprawling out across my bed. “The injury’s been tough on West, and we were already dealing with enough drama, so… yeah, we kind of exploded at each other tonight.”
“Shit. I’m so sorry you guys are going through a rough patch.”
A rough patch.
Understatement.
“It just feels like I’m fighting an uphill battle, Lex. And most days, I’m not totally sure he’s fighting at all.”
She’s quiet, and there’s a distant look in her eyes. She’s no stranger to relationship issues—with a Golden, no less—so it’s possible she feels this more deeply than anyone else could.
“Well, I don’t have the answers to fix any of this for you, but for what it’s worth, I believe in you two. I mean, you guys are the most solid married couple I know, aside from my mom and Benny.”
Her words bring a smile to my face, and I wish I felt like they were true. West and I have felt anything but solid these days.
“Thanks, but I don’t’ want to talk about me anymore. Let’s talk about you. How have you been since the whole Tiffany blowup? And before you answer, don’t think I haven’t noticed how you’ve conveniently been M.I.A lately.”
Lexi laughs a humorless laugh. “Yeah, I guess you could say I did a bit of self-reflection and decided it’d be best for my mental health to distance myself.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not doing this for Tiffany, or because she got under my skin.
I just can’t go back to who or what I used to be.
I worked hard as hell to heal and find balance, and there’s no way I’m letting that bitch take me back, ya know? ”
“I get it,” I nod. “And I’m proud of you. If this had been a few years ago, that argument would’ve ended with Tiffany gathering her teeth off the floor.”
Lexi belts a laugh, but we both know it’s true. She had quite the reputation back in high school. College, too. She was notoriously easy to set off, and hard to wrangle back in.
“But it’s fine,” she sighs. “Jax still gets to spend time with his dad, and I still get to hang out with my girls. I just inserted some much needed separation.”
“Which is very mature of you, ma’am.”
“Whatever,” she laughs, sticking out her tongue. “Anyway, you guys been back to the doc’s about West’s shoulder? I didn’t see an update in the group chat.”
And she probably won’t see one. Because the news fucking sucked.
“We saw him today, actually.”
“Shit. Was it bad news?”
I blow out a breath, remembering all that was said. “It’s either severe inflammation or he’s re-torn his rotator cuff, but we won’t know until the swelling comes down a bit more.”
“Damn, Blue. I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah, me too. But it is what it is. Nothing we can do at this point but wait until we know more.”
“Are they thinking he’ll need surgery again?”
“The doctor didn’t take it off the table. I’m hoping it won’t come to that, but who knows.”
West’s negativity is rubbing off on me, because my next thought is that it wouldn’t surprise me if this turns into a worst-case scenario. Seeing as how everything else is upside down right now.
“Well, if there’s anything I can do, just let me know.”
“I appreciate you. You always have our back, Lex. Seriously.”
“Of course. You two are my family.”
I open my mouth to speak, but Lexi cuts in, speaking to someone off-camera. “It’s in the cabinet next to the stove.”
I arch a brow, because there’s no way she’s talking to Jaxon this late. “Ooohhh, does someone have company? A certain sexy veterinarian, perhaps?”
She smiles then rolls her eyes. “Shut up. No. It’s my sister. She moved in a few days ago.”
I don’t miss the distressed look that follows her whispered explanation.
“Wow, I didn’t realize she’d be staying with you so soon.”
“Me either,” she sighs. “But here we are.”
“So far so good?”
“Too soon to tell,” she says back, and I don’t push.
We lie there in silence. It isn’t the uncomfortable kind that’s plagued me and West lately. It’s just the reflective kind you can breathe into without it being awkward.
“Know what?” I ask.
“What’s up?”
I flip over onto my stomach and stare at her through the screen. “I’m just gonna call West and apologize, take the high road.”
She arches a brow. “Okay, but what brought on the sudden change of heart?”
I shrug. “Between the prognosis from the doctor, and the team winning without him, he had a shit day today. Trust me, I’m not giving him a pass for being an asshole. I just… think we need a do-over. And if apologizing can break the ice, I’m willing to do that.”
“I’m proud of you,” she teases, throwing my words back at me. “But seriously, that man is lucky to have you. If he’d tried to walk out on me? Shit, I would’ve been on his back before he got to the door.”
She laughs, but there isn’t a doubt in my mind that’s exactly how that would’ve played out.
“I just—”
My words cut off when I hear someone pulling into the driveway, knowing it can only be West at this hour.
“Call you back tomorrow. He’s here.”
“K, good luck, girl.”
“Thanks, I might need it,” I say with a laugh, then end the call before placing the phone back on my nightstand.
I lie there in the darkness, going over what I’ll say when West makes it up to our bedroom, but I’m nervous. Our talk a couple hours ago didn’t go all that great, but I have to think positively.
This time will be different. I’ll just apologize, give him room to speak, then we can hopefully get back to feeling more like us.
And less like my parents.
I shrug off the chill that comes with that thought, reminding myself that West and I are nothing like them. We have a solid foundation. We’ve just gotten off track. There’s still time for correction, still time to repair what’s been broken for far too long.
His steps in the hallway are quiet and measured, and I get the feeling he’s trying not to wake me.
I checked his location, and I know he was only at the bar with the rest of the guys, so I’m only angry about how he left.
Not that he went to hang out. Still, he’s tiptoeing like he’s walking on eggshells.
Or at least that’s the case until he bumps into the table in the hallway, knocking over the lamp.
“Shit. Fuck.” His whispered words come before I hear him fumbling with the lampshade, trying to stand it back up, I’m assuming.
I sit up, my brow furrowing as I stare at our bedroom door, waiting for him to enter because… something’s off.
My phone buzzes on the nightstand, and I glance at it.
Dane: I’m sorry.
Dane: We took our eyes off him for one sec, and by the time we got back to him, the damage was already done. If we’d known he was having such a hard time with everything, we would’ve kept a closer watch on him.
I’m frowning at my screen, confused as I try to read between the lines, but the text isn’t making sense.
But then a tall, broad figure staggers through the doorway of our bedroom, and things start adding up.
I watch West, silent as he ambles toward the closet, tripping over absolutely nothing as he makes his way. He curses under his breath again, probably thinking he’s being quiet, but I’m clocking his every move, putting the pieces together.
He makes a commotion in the closet for a few minutes, then steps back out in nothing but his boxers and his sling. He makes it to our bed and slips beneath the covers before I turn on my lamp.
“You’re drunk? Are you fucking serious right now?”
Those words tug at my heart as they leave my mouth, making me feel things toward my husband I’ve never felt so strongly.
Disappointment.
Distrust.
Anger.
A heavy sigh leaves him, and I’m shocked that he’s got the audacity to actually be frustrated with me.
“Can we just… talk about this in the morning? Please?”
I ignore him. “How the hell did you even get home? Please tell me you didn’t drive like this.”
“I didn’t,” he says, blowing out a frustrated breath. “Dane drove me.”
He pulls the cover over his chest like that’s the end of it, and I snatch the blanket off him completely, balling it up, and then toss it to the floor.
No way in hell he’s about to get comfortable in our bed completely fucking wasted.
“What the fuck?” he grumbles, but his words don’t sting like they did earlier, because I’m too angry to care how he feels right now.
He takes a deep breath, and I can’t even form words as I stare at him, confused when he turns to face me. He looks into my eyes, and I feel sick to my stomach as I stare back into his—red, glassy, distant.
Familiar.
A flashback of my dad stumbling through the door in a similar state has my fist tightening at my side.
To my horror, West reaches for me, placing his hand on my hip, pulling me closer.
“Listen, I did some thinking,” he says, not slurring, but his words drag just a little. “You keep saying we need therapy to fix us, but you know what I think the problem is? You just need to chill… the fuck… out.”
He chuckles, and I stare at him, holding my tongue, trying not to spiral and cry and scream.
His fingers slink lower, until they’re lightly skimming the hem of my night shorts, creeping underneath them.
“You just need me to fuck you,” he whispers, leaning close to kiss the side of my torso where my sports bra stops.
My instinct is to put as much distance between us as possible, so I shove him away and stand to my feet. There’s this wild look in his eyes as he stares, like he’s waiting for an explanation, but I’ve got nothing else to say to him. I have no idea where I’ll go, but I know I can’t stay here.
“Where the hell are you going?” His question lingers in the air, and I feel his eyes locked on me as I cross the room to our closet, pulling down a bag from the top shelf.
“Out,” is the only answer I give, because that was the only answer I was given when he walked out on me a few hours ago.
I swipe a tear away, then slip a shirt over my head. It doesn’t match, but I don’t care. I just have to get as far away from this house—from him—as possible.
I toss essentials into the bag, then storm into the bathroom, stuffing toiletries and hair products into the side pockets.
When I go back to my side of the bed to grab my purse from the bottom drawer of the nightstand, West finally gets his bearings to climb out of bed, positioning himself between me and the door when I try to pass.
“Get… the fuck… out of my way,” I hiss, glaring at him, feeling like I’m meeting a side of him I didn’t even know existed.
There are a number of ways he could’ve hurt me tonight, but this one feels personal. He knows what life was like for me growing up, knows this was a line in the sand he shouldn’t have crossed. So, now that he’s crossed it, I can’t help but wonder if this was intentional.
Like, he didn’t know how to tell me he wants to separate, so he did the one thing he knew would push me to make that decision for him.
“Move,” I grit out, and he holds his uninjured hand out to stop me.
“Blue, please. I fucked up, but I just… today was…”
“It was hard,” I say for him. “But it wasn’t just hard for you, West. That’s what you seem to keep forgetting. We were in this together. We were a team. Which means when you hurt, that shit hurts me, too. But you’re too fucking stupid to see what you had right in front of you.”
The rims of his nostrils flare, and I know what I’ve said that’s gotten his attention.
“Had?”
I don’t take it back. He heard me right, and I meant it.
Had.
Past tense.
“I can’t do this anymore.”
Using what little strength I still have, I shove past him, and he doesn’t stop me. Maybe because he knows that holding me here won’t change the inevitable.
That he’s pushed me to my limit, and I’m more than fed up.
I’m done.
*
@QweenPandora:
Boy do I ever have a juicy tidbit of info for you lovelies tonight.
It’s late, but when news breaks, I’m on it.
Let me start from the beginning. We all know #KingMidas has been out on sabbatical, awaiting an update as to whether he’ll be returning to the field this season. Meanwhile, the Cypress Pointe Emperors had a phenomenal game, minus their leader.
That’s right, Reed Lawson led the team to victory, and the post-game celebration was hosted by none other than #SexyBeast.
Things were mostly lowkey and quiet… until #KingMidas rolled up.
This pic was sent to me by one of you, my loyal followers, and it’s clear he’s hardly able to stand on his own. But luckily, #PrettyBoyD was able to get him home in one piece.
Anyone else wondering how #NewGirl’s taking this?
I mean, this has to feel like deja’ vu for her, right?
Anyway, if I hear anything more, you know I’ll report back.
Later, peeps :)
—P