Page 126 of Fall Over You

Carver crosses his arms. “One of those kinds of husbands, huh? Controlling who she can talk to?”

I lean in. “Considering what you did to my last girl⁠—”

“What I did?” he squeals.

“Yes, you.”

“I heard it was you!” he retorts.

My teeth might crack with how tight I’m clenching my jaw. My eyes burn and everything in my body is pulsating.

“I know what really happened, and you do too,” I say pointedly. “It was y’all that fucked her up. You left my child without a mother, and I’m not letting you get to her stepmom too. I’m drawing the line for Becca’s safety.”

Carver looks uneasy and blows out a breath. “Look, man, I’m real sorry about what happened with CJ⁠—”

“You don’t even know the half of it,” I bite out. “You never had to revive her. You aren’t still paying her rehab bills.”

He puts his hands out to placate me. No such thing will be happening. “All I’m saying is I know you have every reason to hate my family.”

“Correct.”

“And I’m trying to do better. I know that doesn’t change the past⁠—”

“You’re right. It doesn’t.”

He sighs. “Can you just tell Becca to call me? I’ve got a few other options.”

I get in his face. “I don’t know what you think my wife is up to these days, but she’s busy. She’s busy being a good mom, and doing wholesome shit that makes people happy, and she sure as hell isn’t getting dragged back into that life that you people lead.”

He shakes his head and scoffs. “Whatever, man.”

Rage pounds through me as he walks away. I’m not sure who I’m more mad at. Carver and his family of degenerates. Becca for dealing with them. How Carver brought up the rumors that went around about me and CJ.

That he had the gall to try and apologize after everything.

He never found CJ on the floor. He never had to save her life. He never came home shaking because he was afraid of what he’d find. He’s not dealing with the fact that people still talk about us.

Everything is too loud. The chime of some kid’s bike bell. The laughter pouring out of the post office when the door opens. Some fucking bird yapping.

I text Dad to tell him to lock up and stomp my way to the Legion Hall. Then I do what I think people with normal friendships do: I phone a friend and head for the bar.

“Sorry I’m late,” Jake says with a chuckle, sliding onto the barstool next to mine. “It’s tough trying to stay on top of getting the wife pregnant. She’s all ‘it’s ovulation time, Jake,’ and I’m all ‘I gotta meet up with Tyler,’ and she’s all ‘now, Daddy’ with the fuck-me eyes and well, you know how it goes.”

I shake my head and thank god I’ve had a couple drinks or that would be enough to have my pants in an embarrassing arrangement. “I wouldn’t know about that. Mine just showed up out of nowhere.”

Jake looks uncomfortable. “Right. Yeah. That’s tough too. The accident. I mean, not that Ellie’s an accident, she’s adorable.”

“It’s okay, I know what you mean,” I say. “Sorry you guys are having to work at it. I hear that sucks too.”

“Thanks, man. It kinda does. I mean, sex is great. But it’s been under pressure, and that makes it different. Hey, also, sorry you walked in on us that one time⁠—”

I hold up a hand. “Don’t mention it.”

He clears his throat. “Well, I’m here now. What’s buggin’ ya? Have to say, I was surprised to see you calling.”

Jake and I sit at the place I’ve avoided my entire life, but it’s basically the only option in town for drowning your sorrows: the Legion Hall. I’m already a few beers deep. I decide not to look too hard at the fact that I got pissed off and went to drink. I haven’t drank much at all since Ellie was born, but I wouldn’t call myself strictly sober. Just highly avoidant.

It’s not like drinking helps anything.