by Renee Dyer
“Is he angry about that?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want to tell me why you don’t want to do it?”
I do, but I’m afraid she won’t understand my reasons. Nick didn’t.
“It’s simple, really. I want to move on with my life, not back. I feel like rehashing everything that happened is going to do more damage than good. Do I think what happened sucks? Yes. More than I can explain. Do I hate what all of you went through, especially Nick? Hell yes. But I don’t think suing is going to help any of us heal. Money won’t give us back the weeks that were taken away. Going to court, fighting the doctors who ignored us…it will just continue to cause us pain. I may sound naïve, but I need to get past this.”
I watch as she processes what I said. She has the same expression Nick had.
“You don’t agree?”
“It doesn’t matter whether I agree or not. I told you, you need to do what’s best for you and Nick. I would like to see the doctors pay for what happened to you, but I understand where you’re coming from. I’ll support whatever decision you make.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
The rest of the afternoon, we play with Brady, talk about my night out with the girls, and she gives me advice about Nick. I’m honest with her about the issues we’re having. I know she won’t judge and she’ll play devil’s advocate with me, not just take my side. I need someone in Nick’s corner, too. She doesn’t agree that we may be too far gone to save. She thinks we need to stop trying so hard and we’ll find our way back to each other. It sounds so easy when she says it.
I wish she was going out with the ladies, but she says her old knees don’t have the life in them they used to. I laugh and tell her she’d dance circles around the rest of us. When Nick walks in, we’re still debating her ability to make the younger crowd look like fools. He agrees with me. She smiles, kisses his cheek, and says her goodbyes, but I wasn’t ready for her to leave.
I’m not ready to be alone with him.
We chat for a little bit until I have to get ready, but the conversation is forced. He tells me about work. I tell him about Mom and Brady playing monster. There’s no easy flow in our words. I finally excuse myself and I think we both feel relief when I walk away.
I can hear him playing with Brady as he makes dinner. One thing I can always say is he’s a great dad. He does everything for our little man. Some guys have a hands off approach and expect their wives to do everything, but not Nick. He wants to be involved. Well, not always in the school stuff I do with Brady because he’s afraid he’ll do it wrong, but sometimes I get him to help out and he has a blast. Getting him to step out of his comfort zone is a sight to see.
I miss us. We used to be perfect. I was the emotion to his logic. When I needed grounding, he brought me down. I’m his fun. He’s my anchor. We fit. Our differences made us work. Losing that has been harder than getting healthy and making people see me as me again. I want my husband back, but the spark seems to have gone out.
I don’t know if we can get it back.
When I walk down the stairs, I stop at the bottom and watch my boys. Brady is cuddled in Nick’s arms listening to him read Chicka-Chicka Boom-Boom. I can’t stop the smile from spreading across my face. It’s Brady’s favorite. Loving the cadence of the story, we started reading that book to my pregnant belly early on and continued reading it to him after he was born. He has the book memorized now.
Standing there, watching him read to our son, reminds me again how wonderful of a man I married. A pang of hurt shoots through my heart. The three of us used to sit and read this together and Brady would ask us to buy him a coconut every time. I feel like an outsider.
“Can we get a coconut now, Daddy?”
A small giggle falls from my lips, drawing their attention.
“You look beautiful, Bren.”
I blush under his scrutiny. I didn’t do much to prepare for tonight, worried he would think I was trying to attract other men. Concern of my own sinks in and I start to wonder if I should go back to my room and change clothes. Shaking my head, I thank him, walk over, and kiss them both goodnight. I know I haven’t gone overboard. Fitted jeans, a black tank, and black boots are not too much to go out dancing in. Back in the day, I wore a whole lot less.
“Tell the ladies I said hello,” he calls after me.
My nerves zing out of control the entire car ride there. I haven’t been dancing in a couple years and the last time was with Nick. I’m pushing thirty-two, for Christ’s sake. What the hell am I thinking? I’m not a young twenty-something anymore. My scars pop to mind and I become self-conscious. Every reason I shouldn’t do this bombards me.
This was why I wanted to meet there. I needed an out if I couldn’t handle it, and I’m not sure I’m going to make it through the door.
At BT’s, Amy-Lynn, Delilah, and Tess are waiting for me. There’s a guy standing with them, but I can’t make out who it is as I drive by. None of us were supposed to bring our significant others. Annoyed that one of them may have, I grip the steering wheel and head for the parking lot. I slam the door harder than intended and walk toward the bar.
Squeals and whistles sound out as I round the corner and I laugh at how obnoxious the ladies are being. Tess yells out, “Get your sexy ass over here.”
“Crazy ass,” I laugh, hugging her when I get close enough.
“You know it, cuz.”
The ladies take turns hugging me, saying how great it is to see me out. I welcome the love. It feels great to be surrounded by people happy with me getting better.
“Look who we ran into,” Delilah says.
I pull free from the group and look up into the eyes of Hunter Berkley. I haven’t seen him since a few weeks after high school graduation, and holy shit, he looks good. He was gorgeous then, but, man, he has filled out in all the right places. His arms and chest are all muscle…not too much, but enough to make a girl say, “Damn.” His lips still quirk up more on one side when he smiles. Seeing him now reminds me why I had such a crush on him all through school.
“Hi, Bren. You look great. I swear, you haven’t aged at all.”
“Uh…thanks.” I stumble over my words, still shocked he’s here. Last I knew, he’d moved to Louisiana. “You look good, too. It’s nice to see you.”
Delilah nudges me and I wonder if I’ve said something wrong. I play back everything in my head, but can’t think of anything.
“Would you like to hang out with us, Hunter?” Delilah asks. Oh, that’s what she was getting at.
“I’m waiting on Drake, but I’m sure we’ll see you in there.”
I smile, thinking of the two of them. They’ve been best friends since elementary school. I’m glad they stayed close all these years. He waves us off when we offer to wait with him, telling us to have fun. We pay the cover and walk in. The first thing I notice is two of my loser exes, and I hope I can avoid them. There’s a mix of just barely old enough to be here and people I used to club with when I first turned twenty-one. Some are doing the same dance moves they did ten years ago, including one of my exes. I shake my head, wondering what I was thinking.
The ladies want to dance, but I’m not quite ready so I head to the bar for a bottled water. I chat with the bartender for a minute, another guy I went to school with. When I turn around, loser ex number one is standing in front of me. This guy was so needy. We didn’t last more than a month because I couldn’t take it. He called me at least a dozen times a day. After the third week, he was already telling me he loved me and we would have a beautiful family one day. It was too much for me. I tried to let him down easy, but he didn’t understand, so I had to firmly tell him he and I were over and to never call again. Now, he’s blocking me from leaving the bar. Fantastic.
“Hi, Brenna. You look pretty.”
“Hi, Chad,” I answer, trying to look around his shoulder for help from anyone. The ladies are dancing, completely oblivious to my situation.
“I hear you got marri
ed,” he says, a pout on his face. What the hell did I ever find attractive about this man? Jock phase. That’s right. Got me in trouble every damn time.
“Yes.” I keep my answer short, not wanting to talk to him.
“I should say congratulations, but you married the wrong man. You and I made a great couple. I tell people about you all the time, even the girls I date.”
Jesus! Was he this creepy when we dated? My skin starts to crawl and I look around for a way out of the conversation. With none to be found, I go for sarcasm.
“I’m sure that goes over well.” A whole lot of, “you’re fucking pathetic”, drips from my tone, but like years ago when we were a couple, it goes over his dumbass head. He continues to go on about how I was the one who got away as I scour the floor for an escape route.
Hunter walks through the door, his eyes catching mine. I pray the look I give him is one of, “dear Lord, please get me the hell out of this situation”. His famous half smile graces his gorgeous face and he walks our way. My gaze stays locked on him, completely ignoring whatever Chad has to say. The couple months I wasted on him years ago was more than enough. His babble and insistence that we should still be together is pissing me off. My mom raised me to be kind, but I’m getting close to losing this battle. Who the hell tells someone ten years later they are “the one” when they never even met each other’s parents? Give me a break.
“Drake can’t make it,” Hunter says as he sidles up next to me, his hip touching mine. “His daughter’s sick.”
“So, you’re the lucky man who stole Brenna from the rest of the world.” Confrontation shines in Chad’s eyes. I want to smack the shit out of him, but Hunter’s words suck all irritation from my body.
“A woman isn’t meant to be stolen. She should give herself willingly. A real man would know that.”
Stretching up on my tiptoes, I kiss Hunter’s cheek, thanking him for defending me. Chad storms off, obviously thinking he saw my husband and I have a romantic moment. Guilt instantly swarms me and I back up a step. My eyes roam the room, looking for anyone who could tell Nick what happened. It was harmless, but I can see how it could be misconstrued. With the way our relationship has been lately, this could be what breaks us completely. Not seeing anyone who will obliterate the remaining pieces of my life, I allow myself to relax.
How sad that this is what my world has come to.
Hunter and I stay at the bar, chatting about high school and the people we’ve stayed in contact with. Although he moved away, he’s stayed in contact with many more than I have. There’s a lot of small talk until he asks about married life. It’s funny that I have no problem gushing about Nick. It doesn’t matter what difficulties we’re having, my heart will never see him as a bad man. I don’t know if we can get through the issues we’re having or if he even wants to, but he will always be the one who made me understand what true love is. It hurts to know this while not knowing how to fix it.
It’s nice to sit with an old friend and talk about life without being judged. He doesn’t tell me I’m an asshole because I’m pissed everyone treats me like a porcelain doll nowadays. He doesn’t say I need to apologize or bow down to Nick to make things work. He lets me pour out my worries as he has a few beers. At the end of my rambling, he offers a hug, grabs my hand, and drags me to the dance floor. It’s exactly what I need. For the first time in weeks, I can breathe without worrying I might hyperventilate or the wrong words will slip out.
On the dance floor, he stays close, and I don’t mind. Chad has been eyeing me all night. Amy-Lynn asks if she needs to stick her coin ring into his forehead and I laugh. Her temper has a way of getting the best of her. I quickly squash that by talking about her metallic blue platform shoes. How the hell she can walk in those babies, let alone dance, is a damn mystery, but she pulls it off in true Amy-Lynn fashion and has the men drooling over that ass of hers. Dropping it low, she grabs her ankles and shakes from side to side, giving a great angle of her perfect rear. Every guy in her proximity is glued to the sight. Some ladies, too.
We’re whooping it up, lost in the moment, when arms go around my waist. A male’s front is plastered to my back and he’s trying to grind against me. I know it isn’t Hunter because he hasn’t done more than put his hands on my hips. The height is off, too. Hunter is a little over six feet, and I could feel his muscles. This guy feels shorter and not as defined. Lips touch my ear and I completely freeze. “Anytime you need someone to play hubby, I’m free.”
Whipping around, I come face to face with loser ex number two. What the fuck is it with these guys tonight? And where is Hunter? When he was around, the creeps stayed away. Now I have this dickwad groping me, thinking he can make sexual innuendos at me, and get away with it. Not fucking happening.
“Get the fuck off me, Jonah.”
“Aww, come on, Brenna. I’ve been watching you with that guy all night. It’s obvious there’s trouble in paradise. You and I were good together. Forget about Nick.”
Red flashes, my anger hitting a point it’s never reached. I’m not pissed at Hunter. I’m pissed at myself. I don’t go out without Nick. Not because of guys like Jonah, but because I have more fun when we’re together. We move in unison. We know each other’s body and rhythm. We’re partners. He saved me from asshats like Jonah and now we can barely stay in the same room together. How did my world get turned upside down?
“You and I were a fucking mistake! Get your god damn hands off me,” I shout, the threat of bodily harm coming through my tone and clenched fists.
“Whoa, psycho. Chill out. Just thought we could have some fun,” he says, laughing.
Disgusted, I shake my head and stomp off. Whatever else he has to say is lost in the music. Amy-Lynn and Tess follow me off the dance floor to the bar. Delilah and Hunter are doing shots. Now I know where he disappeared to. Guilt hits me again for getting irritated with him not protecting me. It’s not his job. Tess plays storyteller, recapping me almost knocking Jonah’s ass out. They all get a good laugh at the image. I had lousy taste in men. I’m done with this night and the stroll down memory lane. The next ladies night needs to be something different. This isn’t me anymore.
I double check to make sure one of the ladies is good to drive and Tess assures me she only had one beer when we first arrived. Our concern goes to Hunter, who is definitely in no condition to drive himself home. After a bit of chatting between the four of us, I get elected to bring him home because he lives closest to me. I’m not comfortable with it, but I don’t want to take the chance that he’ll drive either. All I have to say is Nick and I are having problems and they’ll drive Hunter home, but this isn’t the time.
Why was I able to tell Hunter, but I can’t tell three of the closest women in my life?
It’s a question I’ll have to ponder later.
The ladies make a last trip to the restroom and Hunter goes to say goodbye to a couple friends, leaving me waiting by the bar for them to return.
“Why would you let me believe he was your husband?” A hand closes around my wrist, pressure too tight to be polite, putting me on alert.
I look up into Chad’s hurt eyes. “You need to let go of me now,” I say, keeping my voice calm. I don’t want to cause a scene, but I will.
His grip tightens and he pulls me into his side. “You were my everything. You still can be, but I don’t like games, Brenna. I’m not happy with you.” My wrist aches under his grasp. I try to pull away, but his clutch becomes firmer, the look in his eyes manic. I was never afraid of him when we dated, but I am now.
“You’re hurting me, Chad. You need to let go.” My voice is still even, fear keeping me from overreacting, but my body is trembling. Does he somehow think he’s getting me to leave here with him? From the corner of my eye, I see the ladies walking in our direction. Silently, I beg for them to hurry the hell up.
“Hurting you? This is nothing compared to the punishment I have planned for you. You’ve been playing house with someone else for years
. It’s time you find out what happens when you disobey me.”
Shaking my head, body shivering, my mouth starts to open to scream for help when Hunter steps in our path. “Thanks for the ride home. The ladies are right. I shouldn’t be driving.”
“Brenna shouldn’t be either. That’s why I’m taking her home,” Chad replies.
“What the hell are you talking about? She’s been drinking water all night. And why are you holding on to her? You alright, Bren?” Hunter looks at me.
I shake my head no as Chad answers, “She’s great. She’s where she was always meant to be.”
Tears form in my eyes. I have no idea what to do. I always thought I’d know how to react if something like this happened, but I’m panicking. If this guy gets me out of here, I may die. I can’t die. I’m just learning how to live again.
“Let me go, Chad!” The words fly from my mouth, startling the three of us and people walking by. Amy-Lynn hears the commotion and I see her pace pick up.
Everything happens so fast. Chad starts dragging me. I pull back, punching and clawing at him with my free hand. I try to dig my feet in, but my high-heeled boots slip on the floor. He can’t get me outside. It’s all I think. Hunter shouts for him to let me go. Bouncers barrel toward us from across the room. Hunter’s hand comes over my shoulder to grab Chad, and Chad turns to swing. The sound of his fist connecting with Hunter’s face is like thunder. It’s a loud crack, instantaneous and deafening. Everything around us stops for a second as everyone absorbs what happened. Chad drops my arm, preparing for a fight. Before Hunter can retaliate, the bouncers are on him.
I try to breathe, but all I see is blood from Hunter’s split lip. Commotion rages behind me. Chad wails my name. He bellows his love for me, shrieking, “You will always be mine!” as he’s escorted outside. I can’t deal with that. I need to take care of Hunter. Bar. Ice. Lip. Those three words run on a loop through my brain until I’m back in front of him.
“What were you thinking?”
“The damsel was in distress,” he laughs, his lopsided grin still looking sexy, even around the cut marring his bottom lip.