Page 22 of Claiming His Wife
A knock on my window startles me. I was so wrapped up in thoughts of Mallory I didn’t notice Zack approaching. I hit the button and roll the window down.
“Dude, you look like shit.”
I snort a sardonic laugh. “How would you look if the only interaction you had with the love of your life is watching her walk from her car to an apartment building where she’s living with another man?”
Zack shakes his head. “You know it’s not like that.”
“Yeah, I know, but it doesn’t change the facts.”
“How long are you going to keep this up?”
I close my eyes, and my head falls back onto the headrest. How long am I going to do this? It’s a fair question, the answer is simple: “Until she gives me another chance.”
“For what it’s worth, I’m rooting for you. Mal is just as miserable as you are.”
I’m selfish enough that knowing she’s suffering makes me happy. I mean, I don’t want her to suffer at all, but I also don’t want her moving on and being happy without me. I want her to need me. I want her to stop being so damn stubborn.
Zack’s hand falls on my shoulder in a supportive gesture before he walks away. Thirty minutes later, my beautiful wife parks her car, and I devour every detail as she walks to the front door. I notice little things I haven’t cataloged before; she’s got dark circles under her eyes, her shoulders are slightly slumped, she looks exhausted, and every bit as miserable as Zack said. My heart aches at the sight, for one weak moment, I consider signing the papers and letting her go. Then she’s behind the closed door and I the brief respite I get from seeing her is gone, and I know that I’ll never give up fighting. Zack said she’s miserable, that means she needs me as much as I need her.
Reluctantly, I drive away, leaving my heart behind to go to our empty house and my miserable existence. Maybe I’ll get drunk. I could use a few hours of oblivion. God, I’m a depressing fucking mess. My phone dings with a text as I pull into the garage.
My heart is in my throat when I see it’s from Mallory.
Can you meet me for lunch tomorrow?
It takes three tries to type out my response because my fingers won’t seem to cooperate.Yes, of course, just tell me when and where and I’ll be there. I’ll always be there.
Noon at Barry’s work for you?
I’ll see you at noon.
Finally, this is my chance to make things right. I can’t fuck this up.
Chapter Thirteen
Mallory
“Text him,”Jen says. “You can’t keep it from him anymore. You’re starting to show for Christ’s sake! He’s going to find out on his own and then what will you do?”
I came home from work to an intervention. Jen and Zack have ganged up on me and aren’t letting me off the hook.
“The whole reason you are in this mess is because of a lack of communication!” Jen is practically yelling now. “How is this any different from what he did to you?”
I wince as her words lance through me because she is absolutely right. I’m doing exactly what Scott did to me. With a sigh, I grab my phone and stare at the screen trying to find the words… Jen yanks the phone out of my hand and starts typing.
Within seconds there is a ding and Jen types out another text then hands the phone back to me.
“There. No backing out now.”
I read the messages
Can you meet me for lunch tomorrow?
Yes, of course, just tell me when and where and I’ll be there. I’ll always be there.
Eleven at Barry’s work for you?
I’ll see you at noon.