He shocks me by skimming a finger along my cheek. “Yes. I lost myself.”
“You must have loved her very much. I—I’m sorry. Do you still love her?”
His finger is still touching me, lightly, but it’s there. He shakes his head. “She left me and I had to find myself again.”
“You didn’t answer my question.” I look down. “And you don’t have to.”
“I stopped loving her about a year ago. Not just because I was pissed at her for finally leaving me, but because I realized she wasn’t the person I thought she was. Is that the way you feel about your ex? Did you realize he wasn’t the person you thought he was?”
I nod, my heart pounding so loud I can actually hear it. “Yes. Exactly.”
Shane’s smile is lopsided, tearing my heart in two. “It sucks, doesn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“Hurts too.”
“Yes, very much.”
“I realized…I realized that if I was ever going to fall in love again that I’d have to know the woman, thoroughly know her, and know her as herself, not some version that I want her to be.”
“How do you know you’re not projecting a version of what you want her to be?”
“I love talking to you. Like this.” His thumb wraps around the other side of my face, holding me still. He leans down but stops suddenly. “That’s a truck driving close. Your ex own a truck?”
I step away from him and the odd trance I was in. God, was he going to kiss me? Worse, was I going to let him? No. No to both counts. He wasn’t going to…I would never let him…
Looking at the front of my house, I hear Tony’s huge pickup come to a stop behind my garage.
“Yes.” I nod. “That’s him. Please, leave.”
He frowns. “No. I’m sorry, but no.”
“Why?”
“I—I have to.”
I cover my face with my hands, not sure what I’m feeling, not sure what I should be feeling, not sure what’s going to happen. I want my simple wine goblet with a chardonnay so fucking bad. I want to hold it in my hand. I want to have that earthy yet ethereal flavor in my mouth. I want that haze that a couple glasses can give me. I want that numb that makes me smile, probably like a jackass, but at least I’m smiling.
I’m not smiling now. I can’t.
“Moira—”
But I walk away from Shane, shaking.
My front door careens open, Jamie racing through. “Is that Shane’s motorcycle?”
I nod and reach down to hug my son. He gives me a half-second embrace then tears through the house screaming, “Shane! Shane!”
I internally cringe as I see my daughter’s face light up.
“Shane here?”
I nod and try to scoop her into my arms, but she’s wiggling and trying to get free too. Oh, how my mommy heart is wounded, but at the same time…my children have never been this ecstatic about a man. Even with how much money and fun Tony packs into a weekend, they’ve never rushed to him like this. And something inside me is rejoicing that they can love a man. It just happens to be a really tense moment because, walking through the door, is Tony, weighed down with backpacks and stuffed animals.
I try smiling at him, but I’m shaking horribly when I see him.
He’s scowling. “Who’s Shane?” He walks into the house, throwing the kids things down, the red lobster rolling almost to the other side of the room.
“Their babysitter.”
Tony’s scowl doesn’t improve. “Their what?”
“Babysitter,” Shane says as he sweeps into the front room, the kids behind him, clinging to his legs. “I watch Jamie and Liv every Wednesday night.”
Tony glances at me again. His scowl only improving. “What are you doing every Wednesday night?” I don’t know why Tony’s emphasizing the night part. It makes me feel instantly defensive like he just called me a lady of the night.
But I try to tamp it down. “I—I have a friend—”
“Elizabeth Smith,” Shane answers for me. “She goes by Bit.”
Tony’s not at all looking at Shane now, his scowl has morphed into seriously pissed off. But he smiles at me. Oh god, I know that smile. He’s about to start yelling and waving his arms around.
“I’ve actually heard about you hanging out with some Goth girl.” His voice is calmer than I expected, but I’m still waiting for the shoe to drop. “Why are you going out with a friend?”
“Because she has a right to.” Shane’s voice is now gruff. But he glances down at the kids. “Hey, buddies, I’m excited to see you too, but can you watch some TV for a sec?”
Jamie races off with a wide smile, but Liv shakes her head.
“Please, Liv.” Shane bends over to look at her.
She crosses her arms. “You have to play pony later.”
Shane crosses his heart with a finger. “Promise.”
Liv runs off but Tony’s suddenly in my face, fuming.
“What the fuck is going on here, Moira?” He’s not trying to be quiet even though the kids are close by.
I hate this part. He’s going to yell at me, insinuate everything is my fault. And I’ll wonder if it is. I didn’t want Shane here. I knew this would end badly. God, I want wine so fucking bad. I hate how that’s all I can think about.
“Who the fuck is this?” Tony’s voice has dropped, is quieter, and I thank god for that.
Shane’s walking way too fast toward us, and I try anything possible to distract Tony from Shane. So scared my ex will hurt him. Or vice versa.
“Shane’s Eva’s son. I told you, he’s their babysitter.”
Tony straightens, puffing his chest. He’s a couple inches shorter than Shane, who’s suddenly much too close.
Tony’s eyes narrow. “You’re Eva’s boy?”
“Yep.”
“The college boy or the other one?” God, Tony’s goading Shane. He’s not being overtly rude, but he’s not making any effort to be polite either.
Shane’s jawline kicks a couple times. “The college boy. That other one’s a highly decorated vet.”
Tony’s nodding slowly, glancing at Shane then me. “You don’t say. Old enough to be a vet, huh?”
“Yep.”
I want a glass of wine so badly that I’m not sure if I’m trembling more from my desire for alcohol or from the tenseness of this moment. I’ve never been good at confrontation. Anytime I tried to speak out, my mother would slap me. Like when my brother was obviously getting preferential treatment at home, I remember whining about it to my mother and being slapped. God, that slap, even if it didn’t particularly hurt, stung my ego, my dignity.
So I’ve always shied away from confrontation.
At that second, I realize Shane’s over here to pick a fight with Tony. I might have talked Joe from doing exactly that, and I’m guessing Joe’s only staying away because I begged him too. But Shane…I don’t understand why he’s picking a fight with Tony. Maybe a savior complex? And, despite what I’ve told him, I realize I have been acting like a shrinking violet, which might trigger this hero response.
But not today.
I’m going to take a cue from Bit and stand on my own fucking feet, even if they are shaking.
I turn to Shane and push on his chest. “Please, give me a moment to talk to Tony.”
Shane grinds his teeth into oblivion, but he nods once and leaves. I’m guessing he’s close in case Tony “accidentally” grabs me again.
Tony’s breathing hard when I look at him.
“Look, Shane is well-meaning. He’s here because of the bruises.”
“What bruises?” Tony’s voice is a growl.
“The ones you gave me.”
“I didn’t—”
My mouth drops open, amazed he’d lie. To my face.
Tony scrubs his cheek with a hand. “Okay, listen, we fought. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just wanted to talk to you. Like we used to.”
“Okay, just don’t grab my arms to talk to me.”
He snorts a
weird laugh, then leans closer, completely domineering me. “Are you fucking him?”
I’m outraged, yes, but something ugly surfaces. Something hard and fast and tough. My monster. “I wish I was.” My voice is surprisingly pretty. But strong. “Oh god, I wish I was sleeping with him. Because I’d love to see your face if I could say yes. But you know I’m a horrible liar. And I wouldn’t lie about him. He’s just a good guy.”
“There’s no such thing, honey. He’s here because he wants a piece of you.”
I roll my eyes. “Right. Because I’m such a catch.”
Tony leans away a little. Something about what I said instantly defusing his anger. He runs a hand through his dark wavy hair, hair I used to love tunneling my fingers through when we’d kiss and make love. But then I found out about the women. And I wondered how many others had done the same.
When I met Tony, I thought him sweet. He seemed shy. There are elements of Tony that are good. But he’s not at all the man I thought him to be. Like Shane said, it hurts finding that out. It’s not only a blow to my heart, but I wondered just who the hell he was for the longest time. I worried I was going crazy, because the man I fell in love with couldn’t possibly be fucking around on me. I really thought I was insane. And I felt that way for so long.
The big epiphany hits me then: I’m no longer in love with Tony. I haven’t been for a long time. I think I might like to be friends with the man standing in front of me, if only for our children. But I’m not sure if I’d even like to get to know him. I know that when he’s angry, he either walks out on me or intimidates me. And both mechanisms have worked, making me scramble to make up to him.
I worry what’s going to happen now that I’ve figured this out. I’m worried he knows I’m no longer in love with him. And I’m worried what he’ll do.
I don’t think he’ll hurt me physically. But there are so many other ways to hurt another human being.
Tony shakes his head, leaning forward even more, whispering. “You know I don’t like Eva.”
I frown at him for bringing it up.
He places his hands on my arms and I jerk away. He holds his palms out to me like I’m a green colt he’s trying to tame. “Sorry, but if he’s her son then I don’t know if I like it that he’s watching our kids.”
“What is this thing you have against Eva?” I ask, also whispering, not wanting Shane to get even angrier at Tony. “She’s a good friend to me.”
“You don’t know her like I do.”
I nod. “That’s right. Because I don’t listen to gossip.”
He rolls his eyes. “Some things that everyone talks about are the truth, not necessarily gossip.”
Oh my god. He has some nerve. I think he’s talking about the fact that Eva might have had a few affairs, while he did too. So he’s judging her? Hypocrite!
He smiles at me. “Always loved your big heart, but you can’t take in all the strays, Moira.”
I make a disgusted face, because I know I am.
That makes Tony smile all the wider, chuckle even. “And you’re right.” He kisses me on the top of my head. “You’re a horrible liar. I would know if you’re sleeping with that kid.”
“He’s not a kid. He’s only a couple years younger than me.”
Tony nods. “Why does he want to watch our kids?”
“Because he’s nice. I already told you—”
“He might have a crush on you. I don’t think you know what a catch you really are. You’re still hot, honey. Damned hot. So, watch out for him. But I know you will. You’re a good girl.”
“What?” The monster in me is prowling, ready to kill Tony for being so fucking condescending.
“Tell the kids goodbye for me. I’m tired as shit.” He shakes his head, looking in the direction Shane went. “I think that kid was going to try to fight me for you.” At that Tony laughs.
“His name’s Shane.”
“Whatever.”
“What did you mean by saying I’m a good girl?”
He kisses the top of my head again. “God, you know. That you don’t sleep around. I should have known better. Just got jealous, I suppose.” He puts his hands up in a mocking surrender. “Don’t sue me because I still get jealous. But you’re a good girl. Besides, you know better than to do that shit while you’re living in my house.”
“Moira,” Shane says, his voice is strained and loud since he’s on the other side of the house. “You have to see what Liv and Jamie are doing.”
But I want to hit Tony so bad. There’s a part of me I’ve never known before that wants to hit and smack and yell and swear. That wants revenge. And fairness. I want to punch him with all my might. I want to hit him until something inside me breaks, not just my knuckles but my arms too. I want to hurt him so badly, that for a moment, I don’t move away from Tony, from the father of my children.
“Moira.” Shane says again.
I glance up and he’s there, walking toward me.
“You have to see what your kids are doing.”
Tony gives Shane a glance. The face he makes is full of contempt. “Say hi to your mom for me.”
Shane winces. It’s hardly noticeable, but Tony’s said something that must feel like a low blow to Shane. And I want to hit Tony all the more.
As I’m shaking, Tony leaves. That’s right, he doesn’t say goodbye to his own children. I would never be able to do that. I’d do anything, fight any epic battle, leave my last shred of dignity far behind, for my babies, even if only to say goodbye to them.
And the fact that Tony just leaves, his stupid truck revving as he drives down the street, makes me tremble with anger all the more.
But, god, I hate being angry. I look at Shane who’s staring at me. A fat tear drops down my cheek. “What are Liv and Jamie doing?”
“They fell asleep.” His voice is quiet. He’s just watching me as I cry. But a second later he’s there, holding me, wiping my tears away.
“I want to kill him.”
Shane tucks my head under his, holding me so tight. “Joe and I can have that arranged.”
I glance up. “You know I’m just mad. I’m just saying shit I don’t mean.”
“I know, babe.” He pulls my head back under his. “I know.”
19
“I was an idiot, Moira,” Shane says. “I wasn’t thinking, barging in here and making life miserable for you. I’m so sorry. I don’t know if you can forgive me, but I’m so sorry.”
That’s two men who say they’re sorry. And I have enough clarity to think both Joe and Shane are miracles. Or maybe that’s being a little over-the-top, but in the state I’m in I do think they’re utterly amazing.
I sniff, letting him hold me until my tears dwindle. “Did you hear us?”
I feel him nodding. “I—I shouldn’t have done this. I was acting like a buffoon.”
I chuckle, liking that he used the word buffoon. Making loose fists of his t-shirt, I keep holding onto him, feeling the full impact of what happened. Usually, this is when I drink, when my emotions are flooding me, dragging me under a black lake. But I don’t want to drink. I don’t want to give in. Not now. I’ve been sober for more than a month. Other than the times I was pregnant and then briefly breastfeeding, I’ve never been sober this long. And I’m proud of myself.
But without the wine I feel everything. All of it. And I see all of it. Before, I would never think Tony would be such a pig, telling me I was a good girl for not having sex in, what he calls, his house. This is my goddamned house. We agreed to that in the divorce.
I look up at Shane. We’re so close that all I really see are his golden brown eyes. “Did you hear what he said at the end? The part about this house being his?”
Shane winces. “I—yeah. I’d like to say I’m sorry for eavesdropping but I’m not. And I’m sorry to say this about the father of your children, but he was being a massive asshole. Then again, so was I. But I’m done being an asshole. And we need to get you a lawyer, someone who will esta
blish clear lines with him, because this house is yours, right?”
I nod but then shake my head. “Okay, here’s the problem with being a housewife and stay-at-home mother: do I deserve a whole house? I haven’t had a job since Tony and I were first married. I didn’t bring in any income. So—”
Shane holds my chin with his thumb and finger. “Thanks to my mother and father’s divorce, I’m now getting a tiny bit familiar with family law, which is beyond bizarre. But anyway, about deserving a house…we all deserve a house. Unfortunately, life isn’t fair. So not everyone can have a house. But that’s the point, you try to make your life fair. That’s why I was idiotically here. I thought—like an asshole—I could make life more fair for you, that by just being here, your ex would see he couldn’t ever hurt you. But one look at your kids made me realize what an asshole and how juvenile I was being. I’m so sorry, Moira.”
I smile. “You weren’t an asshole.”
“Yes, I was. I came in here thinking…You probably think I have a serious asshole problem.”
I snort a laugh. “No.”
“I was an asshole when we met, trying to act more important than I am, trying to impress you.”
“Why?” I softly laugh. “You don’t need to impress me.”
He smiles. It’s like he’s trying to tell me his life’s story with that grin. But I’m not too sure I understand what he’s conveying.
My shaking has lessened. “The kids are asleep?”
“Fast asleep on the couch.”
I nod. “God, I was so mad at Tony I was going to ask you to fuck me.” Shit, I said that out loud. I can’t believe I said that. It’s not the first time I’ve had a sexual thought about Shane. I’m the asshole because I’m attracted to him. He’s babysat for me, started to become my friend, and I have these insane thoughts about his rough hands on my breasts. Each time I have an accidental fantasy about him, I repress it, trying so hard not to allow myself any further thoughts about him. About us. And I’m sure I’m making him uncomfortable by what I’ve just said. I’m embarrassing the both of us. “I mean, I’m angry and saying things—”
“I know.” He smiles, but it’s not one of his easy smiles.
Awake: Book 3 of the Wild Love Series Page 19