Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 95307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
“Not happening. You think I want to be here?” He points to where I sit on the barstool, drowning my sorrows in draft beer. “No thanks. I’d rather have new pussy as often as I want than to be miserably tied to one.”
“That’s just it. We weren’t always miserable.” It’s true. Winnie and I were inseparable from our first date. After college, getting married was what we both wanted. It’s after we said “I do,” that things start to get foggy. I can’t pinpoint what it was, a particular day or argument that led us here. What I do know is that tomorrow she’s no longer my Winnie, and fuck me, but I’m not okay with that.
“No,” he agrees. “Not in the beginning, but people change. They grow apart. It’s done, Harrison, you can’t change it. Even if you were contesting, which I know you’re not, the judge can still grant the divorce. It’s over, buddy. The sooner you accept that, the sooner you can move on with your life.”
“Yeah.” I know he’s right, but I hate it. I hate that this is what we’ve come to. That the woman I love, with everything I am—we’re talking deep in my soul, can never love another—is no longer going to be mine. There’s a chance she’ll even change her name back, and fuck, that’s going to wreck me.
I’ve been through our marriage time and time again.
What did I do wrong?
What did she do wrong?
Where did we go wrong?
I let work take over my life. I let my focus drift to building for our future, for the family we one day hoped to have. Working six and seven days a week, ten- and fourteen-hour days to make it work. One day I came home, and we just… weren’t the same. I got caught up in work and let the love of my life feel as though she was anything but.
I tried to fix it, but the business was still there, still needing my attention and in the end, it wasn’t enough.
I wasn’t enough.
I tried to cut back on my hours, but we were opening a second location, and I’m the owner. I had to be there. Even when I wasn’t, my phone was blowing up and our time, the time we were using to find our way back to one another, was interrupted. She told me we needed space.
I did it for us, for the family we dreamed of, but I couldn’t make her see that. Looking back, I didn’t try hard enough. I heard what she was telling me, but I didn’t listen, if that makes any sense. I half-assed the attention I gave her. I failed her, and this is my punishment.
Losing her.
“I’m heading out.” I pull some cash out of my wallet and drop it on the bar. Cliff nods that he sees me.
“You want some company?” Chase asks.
“Nah, I’m good.”
“I’ll call you,” he adds.
I lift my hand to wave, not bothering to turn around, and walk out of the bar. Climbing behind the wheel of my truck, I fight back against the vise that seems to be gripping my chest. On impulse, I pull my phone out of my pocket and dial her number. It rings three times before she finally answers.
“Harrison.” Her sweet voice washes over me.
“Winnie.” Fuck me. I want to beg her to stop this. To change her mind. I want to go back nine months before I moved out, giving her the space she asked for. I should have stayed and fought for her. I should have fought harder for us.
“You there?”
“Yeah, I uh, just wanted to check on you. Hear your voice.”
“Harrison.” She sighs. “We can’t keep doing this to each other.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too,” she says softly.
“We can fix this, Win, I know we can.”
“We’ve tried. We gave it our all and couldn’t make it work.”
“We can try harder,” I growl, my anger at losing her getting the best of me.
“I should go,” she says, shutting down.
“I’m sorry, but fuck, Gwendolyn, you’re my fucking heart. I don’t know what to do without you.”
I hear her sniffle; I’ve gone and upset her. “Please,” she cries. “We have to stop doing this to each other. It’s over, Harrison.” The line goes dead. Balling my hand into a fist, I pound at the center of my chest to try and mask the pain. Swallowing back my emotions, I put my truck in drive and head to my empty, lonely apartment.
I slept like shit, barely falling into a slumber before my alarm was going off, reminding me that today is the day. The day the love of my life is no longer my wife. Rushing through a shower, I throw on a suit—something I have not done since our wedding day, ironically enough—and head to the courthouse.