The Divorce Diet

by K. S. Adkins

  But then I changed.

  It started two years ago when I was assigned to the ‘Coffin Casanova’ case, and for the first time ever I brought my work home with me.

  I began staying up all night. Nights when I normally preferred staying awake thinking about my wife or thrusting inside of her.

  I was hyper-focused on wanting this guy put down.

  I was fucking consumed.

  A man who buried young women alive. Women that looked an awful lot like my bride.

  At first, I hadn’t realized I was pulling away and shutting her out.

  It fucked with my head, and I allowed it to fuck with my marriage.

  When I should have been reassuring Pharis that I wasn’t going anywhere.

  When I should have been paying attention to what this was doing to her.

  To us.

  I wasn’t.

  However, the extra hours, sleepless nights, and sacrifices were finally paying off.

  Because of a tip, the last victim we found had been close to saving. While it’s regrettable that we couldn’t, we were able to get more insight to how the guy operated.

  I was so close I could taste it, smell it.

  All I wanted was to close this case and win Pharis back, make it right.

  She would understand, she always did, and I was counting on that.

  And then the motherfucker changed the game when he fixated on my wife.

  He’d seen us together on TV at one of her games.

  Casanova made it very clear.

  Stand down or Pharis was next.

  But I couldn’t stand down. I could not let a killer run free.

  I knew he was watching, and I was certain that if he knew I didn’t want her then he wouldn’t either.

  So, I was an asshole, purposely hurting her, not showing up, not giving a shit.

  Basically, I became Anti-Eddie, making her doubt herself and my feelings for her.

  Until she had finally had enough.

  This took exactly one year.

  I watched the love of my life give up on us.

  I could tell you down to the second the moment that she had too.

  While I told myself it was the right way, the only way, the real mind fuck was, not only did I lose her, I never found Casanova either.

  But with nothing but silence from him for almost two years, I hoped he was either dead, or well, dead.

  This left me free to get her back.

  Problem was getting her back wasn’t going to be easy.

  I had so much to atone for that she may not absolve me of my sins.

  Fuck, especially when I explained them to her.

  We had just finished our briefing, and I was heading toward the coffee pot, when I was told I had a visitor. When I looked to see who it was, I scrambled, careful not to be seen.

  Like a coward, I ended up hiding two rooms over with my buddies, Butch and Aaron.

  Both loved Pharis, both think I’m a fool for letting her go, and both are currently calling me a pussy for refusing to face her. They weren’t wrong. They also had no idea why I did what I did.

  And hopefully never would. Because they wouldn’t get it.

  “Stop fucking pushing me,” I warned Aaron. “She’s sitting at my desk, man!”

  “Yeah, well, maybe you shouldn’t have shown up at her date, fucknuts,” Butch added.

  “And made a fool out of her,” Aaron growled.

  “Made a fool out of her?” I grunted. “Bullshit. She didn’t want that guy.”

  Except that she did, and he had wanted her too. Pharis never looked twice at a man that wasn’t me.

  I couldn’t handle it, and did, in fact, make a fool out of her. (Totally worth it, no regrets. Zero.)

  “We’ll never know, will we?” Aaron said, shaking his head. “Look, you started this shit. It wasn’t enough to do drive-bys, record all of her games, or eavesdrop on her dates. You went and embarrassed her when you had no right. She’s trying to move on, Eddie. That’s what you wanted, that’s what you forced her to do, and then you pull this stunt? She’s not yours anymore.”

  “She is mine,” I threatened. “She will always be mine.”

  “Divorce papers say otherwise,” Butch shot back.

  “Fuck you both,” I growled. “Whose side are you on?”

  Without hesitation, they both said, “Hers.”

  “Move,” I said, pushing through and heading toward my desk.

  Pharis wasn’t letting this go; and I was equal parts nervous and aroused by what would happen next.

  I had missed her so goddamn much.

  I mean, she was here. That had to be good, right? Maybe this was going to be easier than I thought.

  Taking my seat, I leaned on my desk, asking casually, “What brings you by?

  Staring at her hands, she asked softly, “Do you love me?”

  Completely caught off guard and supremely uncomfortable, I shifted in my seat. “Fuck.”

  Looking up, our eyes caught and what I saw in hers crippled me. “Do you love me, Eddie?”

  Speechless, lost in the pain of my own making, I said nothing, like always.

  “You’ve never said it,” she said sadly. “Not once. But that was okay because you showed me, you know? I felt it, I knew. Then you stopped showing me, and I stopped feeling it. I wasn’t enough, so I gave you what you wanted. You wanted out, I gave you that out because despite my own pain, I wanted you to be happy.” Internally I was dying, but externally I was stoic. In that moment, I was grateful for my training. “It guts me to think of you dating, touching another woman, replacing me. But what hurts me clearly doesn’t matter to you. I don’t matter to you. So please,” she said, dropping her head in defeat. “Stop acting like I do.”

  Clearing my throat, I garbled her name. When she turned her head away, I wanted to hold her, kiss her, promise her the world I stole from underneath her.

  But instead of manning up, telling her how I really feel, I took the chicken shit way out. “I gotta get back to work.”

  “Yeah, okay, Eddie,” she said, looking destroyed all over again. Scanning the room as if she just now realized others were in it, I watched her face redden as she practically ran away.

  Taking her place, Butch crossed his legs at the ankles. “Stop fucking with her heart.”

  “Stay out of my marriage.”

  “You seem to forget you aren’t married anymore, asshole.”

  Yeah, well tell that to my heart. The organ never signed anything. “You got a point?”

  “You and Pharis, what you had, was all any of us ever wanted. It’s what any man wants, Eddie. You had a woman so in love with you, so goddamn devoted to you, it gave the rest of us hope. You didn’t say then, and I doubt you will now, but I want to know why you’d let that go.”

  Grinding my jaw, ready to pounce and not at all ready to come clean, I said, “I had my reasons.”

  “Ain’t a single reason I can think of except you fucked around on her.”

  “Fucked around?” I exploded out of my chair. “That woman is my one and only, asshole!”

  “Then why?” he yelled back.

  “Because one day she’d wake up and see she deserves better than me, all right!”

  At my outburst, you could hear a pin drop in the bullpen of a police department, and that was saying something. “Are you fucking happy now?” I asked him.

  “No,” he said. “And neither are you.”

  “No shit.”

  “So, what are you going to do about it?”

  Sliding my coat on and getting in his face, I vowed, “I’m getting my fucking wife back.”

  And for good measure, I slapped him upside the head on my way out.

  Marrying a cop was heaven and hell.

  Where Eddie was my husband, all of his fellow officers were like brothers to me, which meant my family was loud, rowdy, and enormous.

  And that was heavenly.

  But the worry, God. The fucking worry. What if he never c
ame home? What if he got hurt?

  The constant knot in my stomach every time he walked out the door was hell.

  Yet, no amount of concern or nail biting prepared me for the pain of losing him to divorce.

  But I never stopped worrying.

  And I never would, even when the day came when Eddie’s welfare belonged to someone else.

  Confronting Eddie at work was a huge mistake. I knew better than to bring up his...feelings.

  But dammit, I didn’t know what else to do. I hated this desperation inside of me that still needed to hear him say the fucking words. We were divorced. He hadn’t said it when we were married, so why did I think I could get him to say it now?

  I am just so sick of feeling like this. Like I’m in limbo.

  And these last few weeks? Talk about flipping the script on me.

  I hadn’t seen or spoken to him since the day our divorce was finalized.

  So, what gives? Why now?

  Why set up a date with me?

  Why show up again and throw out the wife card in front of Calder?

  None of it made sense.

  He had won, I had lost.

  He had moved on, I was trying and failing miserably.

  So, what the fuck else did he want from me?

  Because during our marriage I put him, us, first.

  Every want, every need.

  My first thought, my only thought was of my husband.

  Eddie came before my career, ahead of my friends, and even my family.

  I was proud to be his wife, fucking honored.

  It was always the two of us. He was the first one I wanted to tell my secrets, my achievements, and my worries to. The man I fell asleep and woke up nestled into. He was my person. My best friend, my whole goddamn life.

  But two years ago, the dynamic changed and the more recognition I found at work, the less I had at home. My success wasn’t our success.

  And I don’t think he believed me when I said it was for us.

  In fact, I know he didn’t.

  Then he stopped coming to games, press junkets, after parties, and award shows.

  Just stopped.

  Eight of our years together were the best of my life.

  The last two he went out of his way to make miserable. Everyone who knew us knows Eddie left me no choice but to file for divorce.

  He didn’t even have the balls to do it himself.

  From the day I was hired on at Sports banter, I kept Detroit as my home base.

  Because that’s where my husband was, and I didn’t like the idea of traveling without him. However, my career had exceeded even my expectations as a female in a male dominated profession. Offer after offer came in over the years, each better than the last.

  LA, Dallas, New York, Miami, Chicago...

  And every offer was declined. A no brainer on my part.

  But that wasn’t my life anymore, was it? I didn’t have a counterpart to consider. No man to love me or miss me.

  That’s right. I had no one.

  It was time to do me.

  Staring out of my office window that offered me the most beautiful view I had ever seen, I gaze out at Ford Field and smile. I was truly living my dream. Not only was I an interviewer for my home team, when they travelled I covered them with my own personal podcast. It was the best of both worlds. If anyone loved their job as much as I did, I haven’t met them.

  Being that this was an away game, once tonight’s footage was recorded, I realized I was in no hurry to leave. With nothing but work to keep my mind off Eddie, I planned to watch the next game at the bar, losing myself to the one thing that’s never let me down.

  Football was a lot like divorce. Both sides fight the good fight and, in the end, someone always loses.

  In this case, it was me.

  Packing up, I took the steps, rounding the corner to the exit tunnel when I ran into Griffin York, co-owner of Sports banter, also my mentor and great stand-in father.

  “As always, hell of a show tonight, Pharis.”

  “Thanks, Griff.”

  “I’m serious,” he said with true affection. “The franchises love you. The calls I keep getting, they aren’t taking rejection very well. Either you’re a genius for holding out, or you truly are happy staying in your hometown. Anyway, I came here to tell you in person, it was a unanimous decision. We want you on panel. I know it isn’t about money for you, but this is everything you’ve ever worked for and—”

  “I’m in.”

  Yanking me into a fierce hug, he yelled out, “Yes! Fuck yes! Finally!”

  Pulling away, I force a smile. “Give my verbal acceptance, send me what needs to be signed, the sooner the better.”

  “I fucking love you, Pharis,” he growled protectively. A lot like my dad used to. “You’re going to soar, find the fame you deserve—”

  “And freedom,” I muttered under my breath.

  “Listen,” he said gently. “I liked Eddie, we all did. Hell, still do. But we’re here for you. We love and support you. You’re a free agent now. This is what you’ve worked for.”

  “I know,” I whispered, hating that I was, in fact, a free agent. It meant I was no longer part of a team. A team of two that had meant more to me than any amount of money or recognition ever could.

  “Does he even know you turned all those offers down?”

  “No.”

  “No?” he blinked rapidly. “Pharis...”

  “Griff,” I sighed. “I didn’t turn them down for me, I did it for us. My home was here, it was Eddie. But now I’m homeless, a free agent, like you said. Send me the damn paperwork, all right? Let’s do this!”

  Closing his eyes, he grunted, “Eddie fucked up letting you go.”

  Kissing him on the cheek, I left him with, “I know.”

  “Miami is going to treat you right.”

  “Miami,” I whispered to myself. God, that felt like a world away.

  “Take a few weeks to relax and enjoy this, Pharis.”

  “Yeah, okay,” I conceded, wishing the girls could take time off and travel somewhere far, far away with me.

  “But first, follow me,” Griff said, leading the way.

  With no choice but to do as he said since his arm was locked with mine, I followed.

  When we entered the conference room and I saw the media, I lost my breath. Scanning the familiar faces, my peers, I offered a real smile and had to give it up to Griff for knowing me so well. For years he’s pushed for me to take my career to the next level. Only I wasn’t interested.

  Needless to say, his timing was impeccable.

  With congratulations coming from all directions and cameras flashing in my face, I answered when prompted, following protocol to a tee, and left proud I hadn’t let a single tear fall.

  Like always, I would save them for later where no one could see.

  Working these streets was not for the weak.

  Not for cops or criminals.

  Nor was it easy on the people who loved us.

  My wife, she stayed strong for me. Always so fucking strong.

  I know she worried, and not just because she spent nights waiting up for me.

  There were those times I caught it when her tough-girl guard slip.

  Which was why I couldn’t put her through this.

  This was my battle.

  After taking a life, seeing a counselor was mandatory.

  My wife, she was life. And I wasn’t ready for her to know the dark side of mine.

  Adjusting my hat, I strode up the steps of my therapist’s office to find my wife standing there holding a cup of coffee and open arms. “I came to walk you in and wait for you,” she said softly, as for me, I was undone. Because my wife knew, she always did. Even when I hadn’t voiced it.

  “You didn’t have to,” I whispered.

  “But I wanted to. I’m a cop’s wife, Eddie.”

  “But—”

  “I’m your wife. I just wanted you to know that I’m here.”
>
  “How did you find out?”

  “I do the laundry,” she said with a smile. “I saw the appointment card.”

  “I should have told you,” I confessed shamefully.

  “Yes,” she said gently. “You should have, but I know you, Eddie. When you were ready you would have. Until you are, there’s someone inside who can offer you the help I can’t.”

  And that day went a little easier because of my wife.

  With my shift nearly over, I drove the city streets wondering where she was, and what she was doing.

  The wonder was driving me crazy because she wasn’t at home yet. I know because I drove by, twice. And yes, her block was crime-free thanks to the amount of time I spent patrolling it.

  Still, I knew her routine.

  You didn’t spend ten years with someone and not figure out what makes them tick. Or where they went when they were feeling lost. Very much how I was feeling right now.

  It was Monday night football, the Lions were away, which meant Pharis was likely watching the next game at her spot after she finished her podcast at the stadium. And with renewed vigor, I turned around and headed toward McShane’s.

  Out of all the bars in the city, McShane’s was by far her favorite.

  The regulars loved her, loved everything about her, and were protective of her.

  It was her safe haven with fucking tasty French onion soup.

  It was also a sports bar through and through. Pharis was always in her element there.

  Arguing calls, defending players and coaches. Yelling her pretty head off.

  Schooling the locals on the intricacies and politics of the game she loved so much.

  Pharis didn’t just know football, she could play, too.

  Up until I turned her world upside down, she played on a co-ed flag football team and kicked serious ass.

  Cheering for her had been my sport.

  Until I stopped coming.

  At the thought of seeing her my heart started racing.

  Then again, I felt this way any time she was close.

  And it’s been too long since anything excited me.