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“Most of these aren’t open to viewing until next week,” I sigh.
I’d love nothing more than to find some houses to look at right now. However, between putting the finishing touches on EduSync, getting my ducks in a row, and Luce traveling to New Jersey to support Sawyer and the Sabertooths as they face their last game of the season which is the away game against the Jaguars, late next week is probably more realistic.
I feel bad I’m not going to be there for the guys, especially Mickey. But I can’t do that. I’m only in the beginning of my detox of them, and I know if I see them this soon, I’ll crumble and forget why it’s so important for me to do this on my own.
“Okay,” I agree, pouring some more water into my shot glass and emptying it. “When you’re back from Jersey, we can go look at houses.”
We spend the evening lost in a sea of possibilities, the world outside fading to nothing but a whisper. For now, it’s just us, the remnants of our shared past, and the promise of a future where I hold the reins—tight and unwavering. Tonight, I toast to change, to growth, and to taking back my story—one sip of water at a time.
Soren
Scowling, I slam the fridge closed, annoyed that most things in there remind me of Gail. She’s everywhere; in the flowery and clean scent clinging to the bed she slept in, in the sugary snacks and food, in the fucking absence we came home to four days ago.
She seemed fine with learning that we’d played her, that she didn’t really need to stay with us. Okay, maybe ‘okay’ is a bit of a stretch, but she didn’t let it get in the way of a night of celebratory sex. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for that. What I don’t fucking appreciate was returning to her letter, or the silence that’s followed.
“So what now?” Mickey asks, stretching. His white hair is sticking all over the place and he’s squinting as though keeping his eyes completely open is a task too great for him this morning. When I shrug, he rolls his eyes and pours himself another cup of coffee, draining the pot. What a dick. “You know she’s going to find something soon, right? What if she decides there’s no room for us in her life?”
“Oh, that ‘what now’,” I mutter sarcastically.
From Sawyer, we know that Gail’s staying with her brother, and that she’s given up the apartment she used to share with Lucia. He’s also mentioned something about the women looking for a house for Gail.
“What do you want me to do? Chase her down and chain her to the bed again?” I’m not morally opposed to doing that, especially not if it means keeping Gail with us.
Fuck!
When did things get so out of control? Yeah, I know, I know. Right around the time she announced she was pregnant, we tore the mask off her face and discovered the mysterious Abby was Gail. That was just the beginning of our bad decisions, though. From there, it was like one of those situations where you remove a pebble and the entire mountain collapses.
Double fuck!
Looking at Mick, I know he’s feeling the same way I am. Ironically, it took her moving out for me to realize I don’t want her to go. Ever. I want her with me—with us. I might not know exactly what that means, or what it’ll look like, but I want it. I want her and Fet with us.
“I’m not letting her go,” I growl, angered by the thought I’ve let it come to this.
Most of my life, I’ve tried to live by the mantra that family comes first. How ironic is it that I might be the one who has pushed her the furthest? Yeah, I don’t even want an answer to that. I want a solution.
“Me either,” Mickey rumbles. “Look, I have no excuse for my bullshit except for admitting that I let what happened with Simone… I fucking saw it happening again, man.”
I nod because I get it, and unlike me, he has a reasonable excuse. Or is it more of a reason? Fuck if I know. “So what do we do?” I ask, even more desperate for a solution.
Mickey stares at me like I’m dumber than dirt. “We man the fuck up and tell her. Maybe we even apologize for our shit.”
Yeah, that sounds like a good way to go about it… so why is something inside me balking at the thought of doing that? And just what the hell am I feeling? It’s not guilty, definitely not that. As much as I regret certain things, if I’m being honest, it’s the consequences more than the acts that are the cause of that.
It’s not until Mickey suddenly shouts, “Dude, get your head out of your ass and say something!” that I realize I’m just sitting here, lost in my thoughts without saying anything.
Exhaling slowly, I stretch and interlace my fingers behind my head. “What the hell do you want me to say, Mick? We fucked up. That’s all there is to it.”
Anger clouds his features, his gray eyes darkening like a stormy sky. “That’s bullshit and you know it. You’re the one who preached about family—”
“I know!”
“And now you’re, what? Just giving up? Tell me, Soren, what will that look like? Going back to Cupid’s Court and just existing? We both have a chance at something real here.”
My mouth becomes dry, and it feels like my tongue is sticking to the roof of my mouth as I say, “Being with her will be a constant reminder of our mistakes, Mick. I don’t want to—”
“Fuck right off!” he booms, slamming his fist into the kitchen counter so hard the surrounding items rattle. “Stop being such a little pussy, Soren. Admit why you’re afraid or stop talking.”
The. Fuck!
