Chapter 38

*James*

Liv’s face drained of all color at her mother’s words. My head snapped around looking for him. “What is she talking about?” I barely heard Liv’s words over the blood rushing in my ears.

“Don’t leave on my account, son.” Nancy called out as I spotted Carl slipping out through a side door of the chapel. Thankfully, he didn’t respond to her taunting and let the door slide closed behind him. A sneer spread across Nancy’s face as she returned her attention to the young woman she once considered a daughter. She allowed disgust to absorb into her features while she studied Liv. “You should ask your husband all about it. He helped cover it up.” Just then her eyes slid to mine, a look of cruel satisfaction now radiating off her.

“What the fuck does that mean?” Liv asked. “What the fuck is she talking about?” The words now directed toward me. “JAMES! What the fuck is she talking about?” Her voice now filled with hysterics. Before I could respond, Nancy slithered down the stairs from the podium and made her way through the chaos that had erupted in the chapel, allowing the door to slam behind her in a flourish.

“Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen!” Marshall, the funeral director, was back at the podium trying to regain control of the room. I could feel Liv’s stare bore holes into the side of my head, my attention still on Whitaker. “Excuse me!” His voice growing louder over the murmuring among the crowd. “We have some refreshments in the atrium for you all. If you’ll please head out there, we are going to give the family a few moments to… well.. Just please head out into the atrium.” He stepped out from behind the podium and down the aisle to the chapel entrance, people slowing filing out of the pews to follow. I watched as the last guest walked out, Marshall pulling the door closed behind them.

“Honey, do you want us to stay?” Mom rested her hand on Liv’s shoulder, but she didn’t give a response. I finally turned and looked my wife in the eyes, finding utter despair and heartbreak staring back at me.

“Mom, can you give us a few minutes, please?” Holding Liv’s stare, I listened as my mom led the rest of our family out. Once the door was closed, I took a deep breath preparing for the worst. “I didn’t know for sure until recently. Before I could tell you, your…” I blew out a breath. “Nick died.” I dropped my elbows to rest on my knees, then hung my head into my hands. “FUCK.”

“Carl?” The voice coming out of my wife was that of a lost little girl. And it was my fault.

“Yeah.” The word barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry.” I looked back at my wife, tears now sliding down her cheeks. Wiping the tears away with my thumbs, I wrapped my hands around her face. “Just please hear me out before you make any decisions.”

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The scotch burned as it went down my throat. Not that I could feel it. I couldn’t feel anything. I stared at the brown envelope sitting on my desk. A messenger had delivered it hours ago, along with a small box, but both sat unopened. Refilling my glass from the bottle sitting next to the envelope, I swiveled my chair around to look out the window not seeing anything. Somewhere my cell phone buzzed, indicating another call. It had been ringing all day but it wasn’t her, so it didn’t matter. I’m not sure how long I sat there, my gaze fixed on the tree just outside my office window. The chime of my alarm system dinged, alerting me to the front door opening. Soft footfalls grew louder as they drew closer.

“I don’t want to talk.” I grumbled.

“I don’t want to talk to you either, fuck-face.” My closest friend dropped into the reading chair across from my desk. I still had my back turned to him, staring into the abyss, absently twisting my wedding band around my finger. “The guys are setting up the poker table.”

“Good for them.” I swallowed the last of my drink.

“I brought tequila.” Travis wasn’t going to let up until I left this chair.

“Fine.” Standing from my chair, I turned, grabbed the bottle of scotch and stalked into the living room. Flopping onto the brown leather couch, I tipped the bottle over my glass, dumping the remaining contents into the low ball glass. Noah and Lucas were carrying the poker table in from the garage.

“Hey, brother. I won’t bother asking how you’re doing.” Noah slapped his hand on my shoulder as he walked behind the couch. Travis was busy at the bar preparing tequila shots.

“Why the fuck are you here, Luc? You have a baby at home. Go home to your wife.” There was no disguising the bitterness in my voice. I lost my wife. No I guess I didn’t lose her. I drove her away. We’d lost our baby, too.

“Even she knows you need me more than her right now, so shut the fuck up and go get the chairs.” I glared at my friend, then tossing back the third drink in a row, stood and headed toward the garage. Rage bubbled under the surface, threatening to take over as I walked down the three concrete steps into the garage. I stood in the dark space, my hands clenched into fists, defeat once again crashing down on me. Before I realized what was happening, my right fist slammed into the door of the storage closet.

“James, talk to me.” Noah stood in the doorway between the garage and the mudroom that led into the kitchen. The bright light over his head a direct contrast to my emotions.

“Why the fuck did you let her leave?” My fist connected with the door again. “FUCK, NOAH! She’s my wife and you helped her leave me. Now she’s fucking divorcing me!”

“Come on, James. You know that’s not fair and it’s not what happened.”

Turning on my heel, I shoved past him, stalking back into the house. “Get your own fucking chairs,” I gritted out through clenched teeth and flopped back down on the couch. Travis sat next to me, a shot in each hand. Without waiting for an offer, I snatched the shot from his right hand and downed it, knowing I’ve already had too much to drink, but not caring enough to stop.

“Are you done, now?” Noah looked down at me, hands on his hips, agitation etched on his face. “She needed some space to figure things out, man. She lost her parents, found out about a brother who died, but then didn’t die. And YOU! You fucking kept it from her!” As his words sunk in, I felt their truth but refused to accept it. “I get that you need someone to be the bad guy today, and I can do that but then you’re gonna get your ass off this couch and go get your wife back.” It was only then that I looked up at met his eyes with my own. Fierce determination stared back at me, but I didn’t dare accept hope as an option.

Once again, I hung my head, knowing how I was the only one to blame. “I’m sorry, man. Fuck.” The liquor had set in and my walls were crumbling. It had been six months since the funeral. Six months since she found out of my betrayal. Six months since she asked for space. Six months of absolute hell. The tears began to slip down my cheeks, that day came screaming back.

*“Please believe me, Liv. I was going to tell you, but then everything with Nick, and the funeral.” I pleaded with her to listen as she grabbed items and packed a suitcase. “Please don’t leave baby. We can get through this.”

“You don’t understand. My entire life has been a lie. I have to think things through, away from everything and everyone. I had already been considering a move to Mormont, and this is just final bit of confirmation that I need to go.” Tears ran down her face. “I’ve been accepted into the business program at Providence.”

“Are we over?” I whispered, terror coursing through my veins at what she might respond with.

“I don’t know.” With those parting words, she turned and walked out of our home.*

“Have you heard from Shepherd?” Travis asked back in the present.

I shook my head. “He left town after the funeral.”

I looked up at my friends, my brothers, around me, the only one missing was Chris. “What the fuck am I supposed to do now?”