“Get out,” she whispered, and I looked away as tears filled my eyes.
I shook my head in refusal, in regret, in pain.
“No. I love you. I’m so sorry, Mia. Please,” I cried.
“Don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault.” Her voice was as lifeless as her eyes.
“We need each other. I need you. We’ll get through this.”
“There is no we in any of this, Adam. There never was and there never will be. You checked out on me the second I got pregnant. I don’t have my baby anymore because of the choices I made, not you. I should have left you the day I told you I was pregnant. This isn’t your fault, so you might as well leave. There’s nothing you can say or do to make things right between us or make me think differently. And I don’t want to be married to you anymore. No baby, no last name, no house… no to anything that’s a part of you. I have never hated anyone so much in my life.”
I wiped the tears from my eyes and whispered, “I won’t let you go. I messed up. I’ll give you time, but I won’t let you go.”
“Get out,” she ordered, her voice a little deeper.
I shook my head.
“I won’t let you divorce me. You’re my wife and you’re staying that way.”
I wasn’t letting her go. No fuckin’ way. I messed up and I had to fix it.
I jerked when she screamed, “Get out” as she reached for the railing on her bed and punched repeatedly on the red call button.
I reached for her hand, pulled it from the button and exploded desperately, “I fuckin’ love you! You’re my heart, Mia. I can’t lose you!”
Tears were raining down her face… and my face… she was shaking.
A second later, two nurses ran in, and following behind them, was Eric who ran straight to Mia.
“Get him out of here! Just get out,” she shouted hysterically, and when a nurse grabbed my arm to escort me out of the room, I didn’t fight her.
I’d give Mia time, but that was all. I couldn’t lose her. I needed her. She needed me. She was my fuckin’ world.
“I’m never letting you go,” I roared at her from the doorway before storming off, angry at everything… at everybody… at life... at the loss of my baby… at Mia for wanting to give up… at me for making so many goddamn mistakes.
It was all my fault.
All of it.
Everything.
The Finale – One Month Later
Adam Bryant
“She won’t see you. She won’t even let me mention your name, Honey. I’m sorry,” Mom whispered softly from the phone.
I threw back the rest of my scotch as I stared straight ahead at the black TV screen.
Mia had still been taking mom to dialysis. It'd been one month and she still refused to see me, refused to answer my calls or return my messages.
I was wasted most of the time anyway, so, really, there was no telling what I said on those messages because I couldn’t remember.
“I just need to know if she’s okay. This is driving me crazy, Ma. I call every day but her voicemail is full, I call Eric and Kenny’s house just as much. I stop by after work every day. I’ve sent flowers… I have no fuckin’ idea what I’m supposed to do,” I finished in a whisper.
I heard Mom's shaky inhale. “She just needs more time, Honey. It’s only been a month.”
“I get that, Ma, but she’s supposed to be with me. We should be going through this together. I don’t even know if she’s okay.”
I squeezed my eyes shut.
“I just…I think she’s hurt...and sad, Honey. I’m not sure the reality of it all has sunk in for her either, unless she’s hiding it from me because she doesn't want me to tell you. I don’t know. I’m just so sick at heart. She deserves to be happy. You both do.”
“I don’t deserve shit, Ma, and you know it. I killed my own baby,” I hissed because she was wrong and it pissed me off when she defended me.
I was tired.
So goddamn tired.
And sad and miserable.
“Don’t say that,” she cried. “It wasn’t your fault. You went about things the wrong way, Honey, but you had the best intentions at heart. Please stop tormenting yourself.”
Right.
“Whatever, Ma, I gotta go. Please tell her I love her. Tell her she’s my world and I need her back.”
“I will. I love you,” she cried.
“I love you too, Ma. More than anything.”
And with that, I hung up, thinking of nothing but Mia and Mom. My women. Both of whom I needed in different ways. Both of whom were the loves of my life. My world. One raised me to become a man, a father…a provider. The other was meant to be the woman at my side, my wife, the mother of my kids… the one I provided for.
I adored them both.
They each owned a piece of my soul.
Mia had taken the first half when she left me, and I wasn’t sure she’d ever give it back... not that I wanted it. It was hers to keep.
But three months later, my mom took the other half of my soul when she left me too… and without my soul, nothing really mattered.
Chapter Seventeen
Three Months Later
Mia Bryant
"I told you," Eric hissed at my side as he pulled out of the funeral home parking lot and turned onto the main road. "He's a piece of shit."
I stared unseeing out the passenger window silently crying uncontrollably. I was beyond shattered, beyond destroyed, beyond broken.
I was ruined.
Adam brought the blonde to his mother's funeral. The stripper he’d cheated on me with.
It'd only been three months and he'd already moved on... well, technically he moved on the day I told him I was pregnant, but I’d thought and hoped the stripper had been just a momentary mistake.
Obviously, I'd been wrong. God that hurt.
After hearing about Mrs. Bryant's passing, I'd decided I was going to talk to Adam. I had to tell him that I still loved him and that I wanted to come back to him.
I needed him.
I'm pathetic.
He'd been calling me and calling me and I stupidly thought he wanted me back too. Maybe he'd been calling to ask for a divorce?
I wouldn’t know because I'd deleted all his messages without listening to a single one.
I knew I'd said I didn't want to be married to him anymore, but that had only been in the heat of the moment. I hadn't been thinking clearly, but now I was.
Fuck Adam.
One Year and Six Months Later
Adam Bryant
“Bryant,” I grumbled into the phone without glancing at the caller id, mostly because I wouldn’t be able to see it even if I tried opening my eyes.
Hell, I was still fucked up.
When was the last time I was sober?
I couldn't remember.
Oh shit. Where was I?
I felt around and when my hand hit leather, I remembered I’d fallen asleep in the chair in the living room. Thank God. At least I was inside my house. Last time, I didn't even make it inside and I’d passed out on the front porch.
“Adam,” I heard a soft, shy voice ask in my ear and I froze sobering instantly.
She sounded like an angel. My heart pumped faster making me dizzy, and I gripped my cell tight enough to pulverize it.
“Mia?” My voice was rough from not enough sleep.
“Yes. I’m sorry to call you on such short notice, but I wanted to see if maybe we could meet somewhere. I really need to talk to you..." she paused. “...it’s important.”
I moved to sit up, but it was too fast and vomit inched up my throat. I swallowed hard and breathed deep to tamp down the sickness.
"Just tell me when and where." I'd be where ever she wanted me to be, no matter how sick.
"Ummm...can we just meet at the Starbucks by your house? In...say...an hour? This shouldn't take long," she informed me, but from the distress in her tone, I knew whatever she wanted to talk about was going to be bad.
A divorce.
She met someone. Here I'd been getting trashed, drinking myself sick every fuckin' day since she left me to forget all that was screwed up in my life, and Mia had met someone else.
And she wanted a fuckin' divorce?
Here I thought she might want to talk and work things out.
Her eyes wouldn't meet mine, like she knew better, which was good because if I saw her eyes, I might just strangle her.
I fuckin’ loved her.
Bitch.
I never thought she'd be one. Ever. But here she was, looking so beautiful, wearing a white sundress, her wavy red hair down and flowing around her shoulders, and she had light makeup on. She looked good and healthy. I hadn't eaten for days.
"I think it will be better for the both of us, Adam," Mia said as she looked down at the coffee sitting on the table in front of her. Her finger drew circles around the lid.
"You serious about this guy?" I asked, and again she wouldn't meet my eyes.
"Yes," she replied, but she didn't sound very confident and I didn’t know what that meant, but in that moment, I hated her.
She wanted a divorce; I'd fuckin' give her one.
"All right, Babe," I said and took pleasure in watching her flinch at the endearment she hated.
"Really?" she whispered with suspicion. "Just like that?"
My chair scrapped against the floor when I stood.
"Yeah, bitch, just like that," I growled.
"Adam, wait --" she started, but I kept going, pretending she didn’t exist. I threw a twenty on the table and walked out the door.
Fuck her.
Terry’s Diner - I stared at the sign.
I'd been sitting in the parking lot of Terry’s Diner for over thirty minutes debating whether to go inside or not, but as I took another swig from my bottle of Jack, I decided it was go-time.
Mia. That fuckin’ bitch.
The bell over the door dinged as soon as I walked through and I saw the back of her blonde hair standing behind the counter.
The moment she turned, her face lit up... like always.
Breena Wallace.
It had been weeks since I’d last seen her.
I checked in on her randomly because, in some odd way, I felt responsible for what happened to her.
I'd come - maybe once a month - have breakfast or dinner, chat with her briefly and then leave. She'd sort of become a friend, I suppose. I'd been dropping them like flies since Mia, but Breena had never judged me so I kept coming back – though I never stayed long, because everything about the girl reminded me of the night I fucked up my life.
Funny how things turn out though.
But I didn't need a friend right now. I needed a woman. I hadn't had one since Mia, and she had already moved on while my life weltered away in the bottom of a bottle.
And Mia wanted a fuckin' divorce.
"Hey, Adam, everything all right," Breena asked, carefully taking in my mood.
She was a pretty woman, not half as pretty as Mia, but still attractive. Her platinum blonde hair was a shade darker now and her body had thickened up a bit, but she was still too skinny in my opinion. Her tits got bigger though. She had thinner lips than Mia, her cheeks were less plump and more hollowed, her nose was narrower, though not big, and her eyes were smaller and dark brown, not emerald green.
Pretty, just not the pretty I loved.
But Breena was sweet and, more importantly, she was still sweet on me.
I stalked toward her and I watched her back grow rigid.
When I made it to her, I gripped her waist, turned her and shuffled her forward.
"Adam, what are you doing?" she whispered, but I didn't respond. The few patrons eating lunch stared at us, but I kept pushing her forward until we hit the restroom door.
"Get inside," I ordered low and her head turned, her eyes hit mine and they widened a second before she complied. I pushed in behind her, and after a quick scan to make sure we were alone, I locked the door behind me.
“Adam, what are we doing in here?” she asked uncertainly.
I walked toward her.
She stepped back until her back hit the wall and she winced. I made it to her fast, pressed my chest in to hers, gripped her ponytail from the back and tilted her head up toward mine. She was taller than Mia by a good four inches, which was exactly what I needed.
Different.
“You want me,” I growled, and Breena’s breathing grew faster. Oh yeah, she wanted me still. But, instead of answering, she asked, “What happened, Adam?”
That was the thing; I didn’t want to talk about what happened. I wanted to forget what happened. I wanted to forget everything.
I crashed my lips to hers and swallowed her whimper in my mouth. Breena’s hands grasped my waist, but it was light and hesitant, not frantic and needy. I slid my tongue inside and when I tasted her, I wanted to cry.
I did cry.
It wasn’t the same.
I hated it, but I needed more at the same time. I dropped my hands from her ponytail and fumbled with the button of her jeans until they were undone, then I pressed my hips into hers.
“Adam,” she breathed and I kissed her harder, but she wouldn’t meet me like I needed her to.
Not like Mia would have.
“Adam, stop,” Breena ordered as she tore her mouth from mine.
I froze.
“Stop this, Adam,” she whispered. “Don’t do this to yourself. I don’t want you this way and I know you don’t want me at all.”
I dropped my head to her shoulder and squeezed my eyes shut, but that didn’t stop my tears.
I let a few more escape, before I took a deep breath to stop them.
Breena wrapped her arms around me.
“What happened, Adam? Talk to me. Is it Mia?” she asked with worry.
God, she was a good person and I’d just treated her like a whore.
I exhaled so hard my chest hurt, before I pulled all the way back to look Breena in the eyes. She quickly wiped her mouth and buttoned up her jeans.
“Did I hurt you? Is your leg okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“I’m so fuckin’ sorry, Breena. I’ve been drinking since…” I swiped a hand down my face. “…I don’t even remember the last time I was really sober,” I groaned and Breena gave me a sweet smile that I absolutely did not deserve.
“It’s okay, Adam. I knew you were hurting… I could see it on your face. What happened?”
“Mia met someone. I met her for coffee - sissy fuckin’ coffee - and she asked me for a divorce,” I admitted, my voice nothing more than a whisper.
“Oh boy,” Breena whispered. “Are you going to give her one?”
I froze.
Was I? Could I finally let Mia go? Could I let someone else have her? Even if it was only holding on to her by a piece of paper?
“Fuck no,” I growled, and to my surprise, Breena grinned.
“Good. Don’t. Just go see her. Tell her exactly what happened and force her to listen.”
I shook my head. “It’s not that easy. She hates me. I killed our baby…she’ll never forgive me. I can’t even forgive myself.”
“Hey,” Breena said as she cupped my face with tenderness. “It wasn’t your fault. There’s a reason for everything, but with Mia…don’t give up hope. I have no idea what it’s like to lose a baby the way she did, so I can only imagine the kind of pain she’s gone through…and then add on top of that the shit with me…she’d probably kill me if she could. But if it’s meant to be, she’ll come back, Adam. In the meantime, don’t give in and don’t give up. And stop drinking. You stink.”
I sighed.
“Why are you still single?” I asked, and her confidence disappeared as if on cue.
“I don’t trust easily. You know that. Beside
s, I’m defective,” she breathed and I lost her eyes.
“Breena, I’m so damn sorry. I wish I could feel more for you.”
God, that was such a shitty thing to say.
“Hey, it’s not your fault.” At my scowl, she smiled. “You’re my friend. I know you only come in, maybe once or twice a month, but I still consider you my friend. You know that’s more important to me…but listen real close, Adam…if Mia comes back…when she comes back, I’ll understand if you pretend I never existed.”
“I --” She placed her finger over my lips.
“If she comes back in your life, you better fucking pretend I don’t exist. She’ll see me as the whore I was, not the person I am now.”
“Damn it, you weren’t a fuckin’ whore, and Mia’s not like that. She’d never judge you that way.”
Why the hell am I defending her still?
“Just promise me,” she hissed, and I stiffened. “I don’t want to be the reason she leaves you for a second time. I can’t be. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”
I narrowed my eyes and lied, “Fine, I promise.”
It didn’t matter anyway, because Mia wasn’t coming back.
Chapter Eighteen
Two Weeks Later
Mia Bryant
I was so tired. Actually, exhausted was more like it.
I slammed the car door to my little 1968 Chevy Camaro shut, and hated the creaking sound it made. But I loved the way it looked…or I would when I could afford to buy her a new paint job. I sometimes wished I would have given in and let Adam buy me a new truck, but I had too much pride to take anything from him again.
Since I had not been talking to him, Adam had tried to be smooth when that insurance check had come in for the truck I’d totaled over a year and half ago by depositing it straight into my personal checking account. Like I’d never notice twenty-three thousand extra dollars.
Idiot.
Looking back, I should have taken it all, but alas, I’d only taken enough to buy Cat.
Adam, Enough Said (This Can't be Happening) Page 16