34. Ben
BEN
The door to my motel room slammed open, and the looming, dark presence could only be one person.
“What are you doing here?”
“I came to drag your ass back home,” Mike said, walking into the room as he flipped on the light. “You’re lucky Blake didn’t come. She would have thrown your ass through the window.”
I chuckled at that, sitting up in bed, groaning at the ache in my back. My mattress at home was bad, but this thing was like sleeping on bricks.
“So, have you had enough yet?”
“Enough of what?” I bit out.
“Wandering around, finding yourself, making Ma sad.”
I snorted in derision at that last one. “I’m out here because of her.”
“Yeah? What’d she do this time?”
I quirked an eyebrow at him, sure he already knew. “She didn’t tell you?”
“Krista knows, but her lips are sealed.”
As much as I wanted to tell him that none of this was my fault, to show him that for once, I wasn’t the fuck up, I couldn’t bring myself to drag my wife through the mud.
Despite her demands that left me bereft, I still loved her with all my heart, and I would until the day I died.
Even if she didn’t want me in her life, I could never kick her out of mine.
“Pop, whatever’s going on, you can fix it.”
I sighed, wishing so badly that were true. The anger over her demands had faded, but that left me with an overwhelming sadness that would weigh heavy on my heart for the rest of my days.
“Not this time, son.”
“What could you have possibly done that’s worse than everything else?” he snapped. “Come on. What happened to the man I used to know? The man who would do anything for his wife? Where’s he?”
A spark of anger lit inside me again, but not at my wife. This time, they were directed at my son for thinking I was such a piece of shit that I had destroyed everything.
“So, it’s my fault, huh?”
“Isn’t it always? Face it, you’ve been sitting on your ass for years. There’s only so much she could take, so you left. And now you’re wandering around like a bum.”
I laughed at his assessment. Man, my kids must really have a low opinion of me.
“You think this is funny? You think you can keep pulling the same shit with Ma and she’ll just deal with it?”
“You have no fucking clue what you’re talking about,” I snapped.
“I know you’ve failed her over and over again. And I also know that no matter how much she tried to change to make herself happy, it was never enough for you. So, you ran away to avoid the consequences.” He chuckled humorlessly. “Sounds like something you’d do.”
I gritted my teeth, refusing to say the words that would vindicate me.
If my kids thought I was a piece of shit, I’d take it any day over them having a low opinion of their mother.
Maybe they would side with me, maybe her, but either way, I wouldn’t give them the chance to look at her as anything other than the angel she was.
Yes, she hurt me when she made me choose, but her intentions came from fear.
A fear that I couldn’t fix if she wouldn’t trust me.
Maybe I had walked away too soon, but the moment those words left her mouth, I knew I had nothing more to offer her if she didn’t trust me. And that might have been my fault. After all, I promised her I would always take care of her, but the moment the ranch fell apart, so did I.
In a way, I brought this on myself.
“If you have nothing else to say, you should go.”
“And what are you gonna do? It took me a week to find you!”
“I never intended for anyone to follow.”
“Well, you can’t just live like this, wandering around for the rest of your life.”
The smallest smile tilted my lips. “I thought maybe I’d take the mobile home and hit the road for a while.”
“And do what?”
“Not sure. Live.”
“Pop—”
“Your mother will be fine without me.”
His fists clenched hard as he stepped toward me. For a moment, I thought he might hit me, but then he took a deep breath. “She’s not fine without you. She’s depressed as hell. She doesn’t leave your chair and she’s eating herself into a carb coma.”
“What the hell is a carb coma?”
“Cookies, chips, bread. You name it. If it’s comfort food, it’s right beside your recliner in a cooler, along with wine spritzers and beer.”
“Beer? Your mother doesn’t drink beer.”
“It’s not there for her,” he bit out. “It’s like she thinks that by sitting in that chair, you’ll magically appear.”
Not that I was curious, but… “Where’s the chair?”
“In the den. Along with your old television.”
“She’s not painting anymore?”
He laughed at that. “She’s not doing anything anymore. She hasn’t left that chair other than to go to the bathroom, and Pop…it’s really starting to smell.”
My eyes crinkled with laughter at the picture he painted. Not that I wanted her to be miserable, but…
Yeah, I wanted her to be miserable. Because if she was still miserable, that meant I might still have a chance. Maybe things weren’t over between us, and there might be a way to make things work between us.
“Are you laughing?” Michael yelled.
“She’s eating Oreos, right?”
“Yeah, why?”
“They were always her favorite. She’d eat a whole roll when she was pregnant with you.”
“Well, she’s eating more than a roll now. And I swear to God, I’ll deny this if you tell her, but I’m pretty sure she’s put on all the weight she lost, and then some.”
“Doesn’t matter,” I grinned. “She’s beautiful no matter what.”
“Try telling her that.” Sighing, he sat down. “Don’t make me go back there without you. She’s miserable, and none of us can fix it.”
I was definitely going back, but I couldn’t make him any guarantees. “I’m not sure she’ll take me back, but I’ll give it a try.”
“Thank God,” he sighed, flopping back on the bed. “Now I can get some sleep.”
I got up and dressed, quickly gathering my things.
“Where are you going?”
“Home. I have a woman to get back.”
“But I just got here!” he whined.
I let the door slam behind me and headed for my truck. It was time to go home.