Page 6 of Claiming His Wife
“You sure you don’t want me to sick my friend on him?” Jen asks. “He doesn’t have to kill Scott… he could just maim him a little.”
The scary thing is I know she’s serious. She would love nothing more than to have Scott maimed for breaking my heart. Jen doesn’t do emotion. It’s not that she’s cold or heartless—she’s one of the most loyal people I know—but she gives zero fucks and has no problem telling you how it is. She’s a fierce friend, and I love her for that ferocity.
Two hours later, we are all slightly drunk and watching Hannibal Lector eat someone’s face off. Hey, don’t judge. I’ve never understood watching sappy romance movies when you’re trying to get over a broken heart. Zack, Jen, and I started the post-break-up-horror-movie-marathon-and-tequila thing in college when Todd Zimmerman was caught with his pants down on Zack’s bed with another man. Tequila, Chinese food, ice cream, and horror movies are just what the broken heart ordered.
“We could dig a hole and put the asshole in it… send him chicken bones and lotion…” Jen slurs laughing at her joke.
“Thank God you shun physical labor like the black plague, or I might be worried.”
“Shut it, Zack. I can make a special exception.”
“Can we just watch the damn movie?” My words come out a little more harshly than I meant them to, but I can’t stand them going off on another tangent about Scott. I know I left him because he’s been a crappy husband recently, but I still love the man.
“Ooo, sounds like she means business,” Jen teases. I expect her to say more, but thankfully she settles back to finish watching the movie.
I wake up with a pounding headache and a crick in my neck. There’s a foot in my face, and it takes me a minute to realize I’m on Zack’s living room floor and Jen is laying above me on the couch. I slap her foot away and push myself up to a sitting position. I hold my breath for a moment until I know my stomach isn’t going to reject the motion. Ugh. Maybe we should change the tequila to wine next time.
“Rise and shine, sunshine,” Zack says as he walks into the room freshly showered and way to damn chipper for someone who drank shots half the night.
“I’m getting too old for this.”
“Yeah, you’re practically geriatric at a whopping twenty-seven years old.” Zack rolls his eyes. “Time for adult diapers and a life-alert button. Face it, you fall down enough that getting up is going to become questionable at your advanced age.”
I throw my pillow at him, completely missing him and knocking the empty tequila bottle off the table. Which causes Zack to bust up laughing. Jen groans from the couch telling us both to ‘shut the fuck up.’
“Coffee?” Zack asks reaching for my hand to pull me to my feet.
“So much coffee.”
Zack hands over the elixir of life and I breathe in the warm scent already feeling more human. My eyes hurt from crying and my head hurts from drinking, but it’s the ache in my chest that is the worst. I hope they are right when they say time heals all. Now if I could get myself a time machine and fast forward to the time when the ache is gone.
“Are you working today?”
“Yeah,” I nod. “If I don’t, I’ll just sit around moping and drive myself crazy. Speaking of, I better get a move on, or I’ll be late.”
* * *
My phone has rung no lessthan twenty times in the last three days. I’ve lost track of the number of text messages after the first day of moving out. Scott, apparently, isn’t going to give up easily. Jen is convinced that he’s being so persistent because he always wants what he can’t have and has never backed away from a challenge. I don’t think he’s ever taken no for an answer.
He’s always been competitive and attacks everything with a single-minded determination. He started as a lowly intern at Regal Advertising as part of a summer program his junior year of college. Within two years he was their top agent. At the four-year mark, he made partner, and when the founder of the company retired last year, he did so because he trusted Scott to take the reins.
My leaving has given him a new challenge, and he’s proving his stubbornness. I never anticipated this reaction from him. I expected indifference. Scott gave me no reason to believe he valued our relationship. The constant ringing of my phone is fueling my doubts.
The phone rings again.
“You should just answer the damn thing and tell him to fuck off,” Jen grouses.
I think Jen is even more frustrated by the insistent calls and texts than I am. I haven’t even been brave enough to read the texts—I’m definitely not ready to hear his voice. I don’t think I can handle it. Not yet.
“I’m going to bed. I have a long day tomorrow.”
“Yeah, I need to get home before Gizmo decides to use my pillow as his litterbox again.” Jen cringes at the memory. Gizmo is famous for retaliating… If his dinner is late or if Jen leaves him alone too long or if she sneezes too loudly. Gizmo is an asshole. Typical cat. “Are you going to be okay?”
“You know you and Zack don’t have to babysit me, right?”
A guilty look crosses over Jen’s face. “We hoped you wouldn’t notice.”
“You’re about as stealthy as a bull in a china shop. If Zack isn’t home, you’re here. Not to mention the fact that we’ve all had lunch together every day so far this week when it’s been months since our schedules magically aligned to make that possible.”