Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 104288 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104288 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
“It’s like you were triggered,” Riley adds.
“That’s what it’s felt like, yeah.”
“Ever talked to someone about this?” Abel asks. “A therapist? Counselor?”
I wedge my beer can in the sand. “I did right after Becca left. It helped. Well, it helped me survive. Get to a place where I could function. The anxiety I felt was unreal, but we got it under control.” I shake my head. “I don’t know, I guess I controlled it by putting walls up. Once those walls came down . . .”
“You were vulnerable, and you were terrified of getting hurt again.”
“Yes.” I scoff. “So I pushed her away.”
“You need to talk to someone again,” Riley says. “And then you need to get Maren back.”
Abel meets my eyes. “He’s right. Never mind the fact that she’s having your kid. You’re clearly obsessed with her. Not that I’m complaining ’cause I’m happy for you, but you ain’t exactly been around all that much since she came into the picture.”
“Yeah, because you’ve been spending all your time loving up on her,” Riley adds.
I laugh, despite the heat building in my eyes and throat. “She turned me into a fuckin’ teenage horn dog.”
Riley smiles. “I know the feeling.”
“Y’all got it bad,” Abel says.
“Well, your dick’s gonna fall off if you don’t stop going after everything that moves, so what’s worse?” Riley shoots back.
Abel holds up his hands and smiles. “Y’all win, no contest. I’m just not a domestic bliss kinda guy.”
“I am,” I say. “It’s all I want. But I can’t make it stick no matter how hard I try. I mean, I kinda pushed Becca away too, didn’t I? Chasing after her, even though she threw out red flags left and right. I forced her into something she never wanted.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. That’s not true,” Riley says. “She was a grown woman capable of making her own decisions. She could’ve left at any time.”
“I can be convincing. Katie’s existence is exhibit A.”
Abel winces. “How’s Katie doing?”
“First thing she said when she woke up this morning—she asked where Maren was.”
“What did you say?”
“I said Maren and I had a disagreement and that she’s going to be away for a few days.” I wipe away more tears. “She cried. It sucked.”
“Then go to Maren,” Abel says. “Do what you need to do to make this right. Trust me when I say it’s the worst feeling when you let someone slip through your fingers like that.”
Riley’s brows snap together. “Who the hell slipped through your fingers?”
“Doesn’t matter.” Abel waves him away, then tips back his beer. “Have you checked in on Maren, Tuck?”
“Sent her a text last night. Made sure she got to her parents’ okay. She responded with a thumbs up.”
Riley cuts me a look. “That’s it?”
“I don’t want to give her the wrong idea.”
“Fuck, dude, you can’t break up with her for real.”
I lift a shoulder, sadness surging through me. “I obviously don’t have my head screwed on straight. Maybe it’s better this way.”
“You being estranged from the woman you’re in love with who’s carrying your child?” Abel looks at me like I have two heads. “For a smart guy, you can be real fuckin’ dumb.”
I push to my feet, wiping the sand off my hands. “Thanks for the pep talk. I gotta go pick up Katie.”
“Dude, don’t be like that,” Riley says.
“Neither of y’all is a father.” I pick up my board. “Neither of y’all has been through the hell I’ve been through. I can’t do it again. I won’t.”
I turn my back and walk away.
I head home. Take a quick shower. Ignore the way my hands shake as I get dressed. I try to shove some food in my face, but I end up wanting to gag. I slam a cup of coffee instead and head across the island to Katie’s friend’s house.
She’s cranky on the ride home. Even crankier when we get there and I have her sit on the potty in an attempt to poop. We both need a nap.
“I want Mare,” she sobs. “Please, Daddy, go get her.”
Talk about a punch to the gut. My eyes flood with tears, which I do my best to blink away. I’m fucking this up.
I fuck everything up.
Abel and Riley are right. I need to go to Maren. At the very least call her.
Instead, I send her a text when Katie finally falls asleep next to me on the couch. I type out the words how are you, knowing with every letter that what I’m doing is shitty and cowardly and the kind of thing Maren should never, ever forgive me for.
But maybe that’s why I do it. Because deep down, I don’t want to be forgiven.
Deep down, I know I’ll never forgive myself.
twenty-nine
. . .
Maren
Square One
My parents mercifully let me sleep in.
I finally passed out just as the sun was rising after crying my eyes out in bed all night. Between the tears and the baby’s nocturnal gymnastics—he or she always comes alive at night—I think I hit a new low somewhere around three A.M.