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16
Lucas
I should get up.
I should be doing something.
I filed for divorce.
The words keep going round and round in my head, and it’s paralyzing. We were supposed to live happily ever after, but now everything is a fucking mess. If I believed the earth was flat, I’d walk to the end and toss myself over.
Another man had his arms around my wife. A man who maybe got into bed with her at the end of the night, his hands all over her body, his lips in places where only mine should be. A man who might become a stand-in dad for my daughter one day.
A knock sounds on the door, and I should get up and see who it is, but I don’t. I know it’s Eric because I live in his pool house, and nobody else would bother with me. I’ve lost everyone who’s mattered to me. Alexis, Lizzy, Lillian, Mom. No, not my mom. I filed for divorce. Guess when—when, not if—we divorce she won’t be my mom anymore.
It’s so quiet, I hear the front door open. Guess I didn’t bother locking it. Whatever. I count the footsteps. Eric is about my height, so it should take about ten to get to my room. I know. I’ve counted them enough times.
“Get your ass out of bed. I brought coffee.”
I hear him sigh when I don’t acknowledge him. I’m being a dick to one of the only people who’s stuck by me. Still, I can’t find it in myself to care.
“You’re picking up Lizzy later today, and I mean this in the nicest way possible, but this place is a fucking wreck. And you. You don’t want her to see you like this, do you?”
That finally gets a reaction out of me. Lizzy. I need to get up and somehow get my shit straight. For her. Eric must take my grunt for affirmation because he turns on his heels and leaves.
He’s seated on a barstool when I finally stumble into the kitchen. I feel his eyes on me as I slump down on the stool next to him and take a sip of coffee. Black, bitter, just how I like it. He’s right, this place is a wreck. Empty take-out containers litter the countertop. There are discarded clothes everywhere. An empty bottle of tequila is joined by an equally empty bottle of vodka on the coffee table—no glass to be seen. Drinking straight out of the bottle seems easier and less messy. Who needs a glass when all you’ll have to do is wash it. What I don’t see is brandy. I should go out and buy some, but after last night I don’t value that friendship so much anymore. I filed for divorce. No matter how many times I repeat those words in my head, they still don’t feel real.
Eric sighs—he seems to be doing a lot of that lately—gets up and opens the fridge. “Fucking hell. Do you eat anything but takeout?”
I shrug, taking another sip of my coffee. He sits back down and starts fiddling with his paper cup.
“I’ve kept my nose out of your business, thinking you’d talk to me when you were ready. But you’re fucking up your life, man, and I can’t just sit by and watch anymore. What is going on?”
I shrug again. “I messed up. I cheated on Alexis.” I can say it now because after last night, it’s not news to him. Alexis shouted it out for everyone to hear.
The silence is charged, but he clears his throat, breaking it. “So it’s true. You really cheated on her?”
I don’t want to say the words again, so I nod.
“Fucking hell. Help me understand here. Why? You love her. If ever there was a couple I would have bet on making it, it would have been the two of you.”
That’s the question, isn’t it? If I can’t even tell my wife why I did what I did, how can I tell Eric? I know if I give him even the tiniest snapshot into my life, I’ll lose him, just as surely as I’ve lost Alexis. So I don’t say anything.
He throws his hands up in frustration. “Put the man in a boardroom, and he has the gift of the gab. Ask him a personal question, and he shuts up tighter than a clam’s ass,” he drawls sarcastically.
“A clam doesn’t have an ass.”
“Whatever. Okay, so real talk. You messed up, and you’re in a bad spot. I’m not going to ask why, what, where how. That’s your business, and if you want to tell me, you can. If not, that’s okay. But I’ve known you for many years, and this Lucas is not the man I know. The Lucas I gambled everything on and went into business with is a fighter. He fights for what he wants and doesn’t take things lying down. Do you still love Alexis? Do you still want her?”
Fuck yes, with everything that I am. My throat closes, so all I can do is nod.
“Then stop this god damned pity party you’re throwing and fight for what you want. This has gone on for long enough. The game’s not over until that final bell’s rung. Get up, dust yourself off and do what you need to do to get your family back.”
For the first time in what feels like forever, I feel like smiling. “You’re in the wrong line of work. You should have been a motivational speaker.”
He grins. “Fuck off.”
I reach up my arms, stretching. He’s right. I’ve never taken anything lying down, so why am I now? I know what I need to do and where to start, and the knowledge freezes my insides. Everything inside me screams to not go there, to stay away, but the voice screaming at me that I’m losing Alexis is louder. For her, for Lizzy, I have to.
