“Where are you going?” I ask with a fake attitude.
“Nick asked me to spend the night. It’s cool, right?”
I nod. Even though I want to sleep with Noah in my arms tonight, he’d be better off with Nick and Aubrey.
“I’ll be out in a minute,” Nick tells Noah, who dashes out the door without even a second glance.
“Aubrey and I would like to take him for a few days, give you a chance to go see Liam.”
I shake my head. “I won’t miss his game.”
“You won’t have to. There’s been some field damage, so the game is pushed back a week.”
“You should go, Josie,” Bianca pipes up. I scowl at her, letting her know it’s not okay to be on Team Nick right now.
“Aubrey will even fill in at the café.”
“I can’t. I already told Jenna she could have some time off.”
Nick comes over and stands in front of me. He cups my cheeks, just like he used to do when we dated. “Josie, it pains me to say this, but you need to go see Liam. You need to grieve with him and not bottle it up. I know you, and sadly he’s the same way. Talk to him.”
He kisses me on the forehead and tells Bianca it was nice to meet her. As soon as the door shuts, she’s sitting on the step below me. She’s been here for hours and she doesn’t have a hair out of place or one wrinkle in her clothes.
“When Sterling refused to let me leave, I stopped communicating. I wasn’t a good example for my son and know that he struggled with how to express himself. Please don’t make the same mistakes I did. Go to California and be with him.”
The thought of being in his arms as early as tomorrow is very appealing, but the thought of showing up with bad news isn’t. We just had a major fight, and as much as I want to be with him, seeing him there isn’t my idea of a good time. I’ll have to compete with everyone for his attention and that would be a first for me. I’m not sure I could handle it.
“I’ll think about it.”
Bianca stands and straightens out her skirt. “Thank you for tonight, Josie. It really means a lot to me, and I know I don’t deserve your hospitality.”
“Bianca?” I say her name, just as she reaches the door. “Does he hit you?”
“No,” she shakes her head, but her eyes are looking down at the ground.
“Did he use to?”
She takes her hand off the doorknob and clasps her hands in front her, much like she was earlier today. When she doesn’t answer, I prod again. “Did he ever hit Liam?” I want to say that Liam would’ve told me, but I can see him keeping this locked inside.
“No, Sterling is a lot of things, but physically abusive isn’t one of them. He’s mean, condescending and some will call him a bully.”
“Do you love him?”
She shakes her head no. “I haven’t since before Liam was born.”
“So, why stay? Why not reach out to your to mom and ask her for help? Don’t you think she would’ve helped you?” I stand and go to her. Her eyes glisten with fresh tears.
“My mother died when Liam was about three years old.”
I take a step back and shake my head.
“What?” she asks.
“Your mother died sometime after Liam moved to California. She’s the reason he went.”
Bianca covers her mouth and lets her tears fall. When I go to her, she puts her hand up, shaking her head. “I’m sorry, I must go.”
Before I can ask her to stay, she’s out the door and down my driveway, ignoring my calls to her.
“Son of a bitch,” I say as I slam my door. I need a stiff drink... or ten. I also need to tell Liam how screwed up his father is - maybe he’ll know why Sterling would lie about Betty being dead.
I want to throw my phone across the room, but that would undoubtedly break it, resulting in me having to go out and buy a new one. I can’t even imagine what the headline would be “Liam Page Secures a Secret Phone For His Mistress” or something equally as asinine. Instead, I throw it onto my bed, cover it with a pillow and beat the ever-loving shit out of it.
One would think that I’d feel better, but I don’t. The agony in her voice is the only sound I can hear in the room. When Josie asked if I loved her – her being Layla - it tore my heart out. I should’ve never paused when she mentioned the pictures, but I couldn’t find the words to tell her that it’s all a lie. The only thing I could think of was “it’s not how it looks” and, in my eyes, that makes me look as guilty as fuck. Everything about that conversation went wrong. I knew something was up with all the missed calls and her disjointed voicemail. I should’ve answered the phone differently, but after the bullshit from the media junket, my mind was fried.
Losing my cool with my wife isn’t something I’m proud of. Fighting over the phone isn’t either, and it’s definitely not something I like to do. But finding out my wife believes those shitty ass magazines before even speaking to me is fucking painful. Time and time again, I’ve shown her where it says I was in one place, when in fact I was with either her or Noah. For her to assume that I’d kiss another woman tells me that something is wrong in our marriage, I just don’t know what. But we need to figure it out and fix it because I need her to support my career, just as I’ve supported hers. I can’t do this without her.
I told her before we hung up that I’d call her after Noah is asleep so she and I can have some adult time. I miss my wife and, frankly, my hand isn’t cutting it anymore. Cold showers and lotions are becoming my enemy. I need her to recharge me, to fuel me.
The whiskey taunts me, teasing me. There are too many habits here for me to fall back into and drinking heavily is one of them. The last time I intentionally set out to get drunk was the night before I left to go back to Beaumont. I was lonely and desperate, spending the majority of my nights in a stupor so I wouldn’t have to remember in the morning. That all changed when I hopped on my motorcycle and checked in at the seedy motel just outside of town.
I pour two fingers of whiskey into a tumbler and bring it to my lips. My hard liquor of choice swirls in the glass, waiting to be tasted. One sip won’t hurt. It’ll soothe my anger and pain. It’ll help me fall asleep, and maybe I’ll dream something happy about my life, instead of the recurring nightmare that I’ve been having.
It’s not a nightmare though, at least not when it starts out. I move the chair to face the window and sit down, setting my glass of whiskey on my knee. I close my eyes and it only takes a couple of minutes before the scene replays all over again.
“I can’t be with you anymore, Josephine.”
The slap burns my skin as I hold my hand in place of where hers had just been. When I look at her, I see rage. Never in the years that I’ve known her, have I seen her like this. And I swear she’s just grown five inches and is towering over me.
“Get your spoiled ass in my room now, Liam Westbury, before I cause a scene.”
I do as she says, jumping when she slams the door behind me. Her room is decorated with pictures of her and me, Mason and Katelyn and the four of us together. It looks like Kodak took a crap in here, and it makes me jealous that I’m not a part of her life here.
Josie wraps her arms around me, kissing the spot she slapped. “I’m sorry, baby; it’s just that I’m pregnant.”
Pregnant
Pregnant
“Beaumont’s Golden Boy named manager at Stop ‘N Shop.”
I startle awake, spilling the whiskey down the side of my pants. I remember the night I went to her dorm to ends things, but the dream I keep having doesn’t end like that. She tells me she’s pregnant and my life fast forwards to working in a grocery store to support my family. I would’ve dropped out of college and married her on the spot. I would’ve never been able to provide for her the way she needed me to.