My Happy Ending Part 1, page 25
In so many places I could think of in that house, every sweet memory had been tainted, tarnished.
It was time for an exorcism.
Starting with this fucking basement and the remnants of our fight here.
Oh, speak of the fucking devil. Look who’s calling me. What, to gloat? I don’t fucking think so.
“I have nothing to say to you,” I snapped and hit the end button before she could start in on me. I couldn’t listen to a fucking word of it, not then. I shoved my phone back in my pocket, taking a trash bag and beginning to fill it with the broken objects scattered about the floor.
Son of a bitch.
“Did I fucking stutter?” I yelled, hitting the end button once more. Damn that woman, she wouldn’t stop until she’d fucking killed me, would she? I picked up a paperback book, ready to shove it in the bag, faltering as I saw what it was.
‘One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.’
The book I’d been reading at that hospital in Illinois. The book she’d borrowed from me and refused to return.
She’d had it in that box?
She’d wanted to... to take it with her?
Why the hell was she calling me again? Was it that fucking important that she just had to rub my nose in it?
“What?” I demanded, my breathing heavy, my jaw clenched in anger, in hurt as I waited for...
“Why are you mad at me, Daddy?”
“Oh...God, Baby Girl, I’m so sorry.” I couldn’t stop the sob that escaped from me at hearing her voice, I couldn’t control the overwhelming guilt over her hearing what I’d meant for her mother, I couldn’t stop my heart from breaking knowing she thought it was for her. “I didn’t know it was you, I swear, and I’m so sorry.”
“Who are you mad at, Daddy? Is it Mommy?”
Elizabeth, you don’t need to be in the middle of this. You’re so young, you’re just a little girl, you should be happy and playing and annoying your brother like always.
“No, no... don’t worry about that. What’s...” I swallowed over the lump in my throat, knowing that she’d been crying, somehow knowing that she’d been told. “What’s wrong?”
“Michael, stop it!” I heard her say and heard his subsequent whine and I had to smile. I missed that so much. “Daddy, I’m running away.”
“Baby girl...”
“No... no. I’m... I’m your girl. I’m... I’m Daddy’s girl, and... and Mommy said I can’t see you anymore, and she can’t say that ‘cause I’m your baby girl, and... and I can stay with you, and... and you won’t be alone and you won’t be sad and no one can say that... that I can’t... see you.”
She spoke in such a rush, each word seeming to trip over the next, as if she had the whole master plan taken care of. And as much as every word she said broke my heart, it was nothing compared to what I had to say to her.
“I... I’m so sorry, baby, but... you can’t.”
I shut my eyes tight as the pain rushed through me at my own words, her strangled “Why?” bringing on a new onslaught of tears.
“Baby Girl, you just can’t...” I sniffled, wiping away my tears, wishing more than anything I could drive those twenty-two minutes down the road and gather her into my arms. “You can’t come stay here.”
“What did I do wrong?”
Oh... God...
“Baby, please...”
“But... but Daddy, I’ll be good.”
I’m so sorry... I’m sorry for all of this. I’m sorry I was such a bullshit excuse of a husband that I was so fucking weak. I’m sorry I didn’t tell my lawyers to fucking drop their quest today. I’m sorry I can’t be there for you right now.
“I know you would be, but...”
“Don’t you want me anymore?”
“Oh, hey... hey...” I nearly choked on the words as I sat on those stairs. “I wish... I wish I could come there and... and pick you all up and bring you home.” My hands shook as I ran one of them through my hair, feeling so horribly weak, so fucking pathetic to be telling this to a five-year-old child instead of her mother who could give a fuck less. I couldn’t put Elizabeth in the middle, it wasn’t fair. “Some... sometimes things just don’t work out that way.”
“Then fix it, Daddy.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle at that, no matter how much it broke my heart. She always held me in such high regard, thinking I could fix anything from a boo boo to a broken doll house, to... to this.
“I’m working on it, I promise.”
And I meant it with everything in me. I was going to do something about this. No one... no judge, no set of high-priced lawyers, no bitter hell-bent on revenge woman, nobody was going to keep my children away from me. Come hell or high water, each and every fucking one of them were going to eat my fucking dust, kiss my ass, put in whatever analogy or pun... it was going to happen.
Because this?
“I’m... I’m not... I’m not gonna eat no more til Mommy takes me to see you.”
Wasn’t going to work.
“Elizabeth Christine, you will eat,” I said, trying to use that Daddy tone even through my tears. “You will eat, you will do what your mom tells you to. You will be a good girl,”
“Not til she lets me see you.”
“You’ll see me Saturday,” I said quickly, wondering how much else she knew.
“I’m coming home Saturday?”
“No... they... Mommy will bring you to see me.” In a strange place with a strange person watching, taking notes, critiquing every fucking thing I do or say.
“At home.”
“No... no. Not at home.”
“Then I can go home with you? When Mommy brings me there?”
I took in a shaky breath, choking out the word, “No.”
“What happened, Daddy?”
I tried to look out for you and she threw it back in my face.
I sighed, glancing over at the bottle of beer resting on top of the washer, where I had set it when I brought it down with me.
“You don’t need to worry about that, okay?” I said, the anger over the vile, bitter attack that Talli had her lawyers release on me bubbling up once more. This was revenge, pure and simple. This wasn’t looking out for our kids, this was getting even with me for something I didn’t even fucking do. Hell, at this rate I should have. Why not? I was paying the price either fucking way.
“Mommy said I could talk,” I heard Michael say in the background.
“NO,” Elizabeth said, her voice firm and harsh.
“Baby Girl, let him talk, okay?”
“Fine,” she said in a near huff. “Only ‘cause you’re his Daddy, too.”
I had to smile at her reasoning, wiping away another fucking tear that had fallen down my cheek. “And Em’s too,” I reminded her.
“Yeah, but Em’s out there with Mommy and Paul.”
An icy grip took hold over me at the mention of this Paul person. Oh, I couldn’t be around my kids, but he could? And who the fuck was he? Was this the reason she’d been so quick to find a place? Or had it not been quick, had it been something she’d had in the works while I’d been away?
“Here, boogerhole,” Elizabeth said, and I heard a commotion before Michael’s voice came over the line.
“Hi, Daddy! I played... I played with big stuff today and was helping with Em too.”
“Hi, Little Man,” I said with a smile, his excited voice warming my heart. He was so young; he wouldn’t understand what was going on. But he shouldn’t have to be put through any of it, damn it! He should be up in his room, messing up this house, putting his greasy fingerprints all over that kitchen island. “So...” I swallowed, holding back the new tears. “You had fun today?”
“Yeah, Em cried a lot, though. She don’t like Paul.”
Don’t smile at that, Warner. It isn’t something you should take pride or some kind of sick pleasure in.
“Paul was here, and Mommy wasn’t.”
What the fuck?
“So me an... and Lizbeth help-ded with Em.”
I heard Elizabeth correct his speech but was so focused on the fact that she left another man there with my kids the same damn day that she decided I wasn’t good enough.
“You... that was good, that you helped,” I managed to say, my pulse hammering so fucking hard I was sure my heart would come flying out of my chest.
“Yeah, an... but he didn’t bring his kids this time.”
How fucking lovely. He has kids too. Something for them to have in common and sit around and talk about, the way she used to fucking talk with me.
“He’s getting us some... some pizza.”
“That’s...” Infuritating. Frustrating. Not his place. “...good.”
“He said we had to be nice to Mommy, but Lizbeth isn’t.”
“I am too!” I heard her say defiantly, but somehow felt that Michael was telling the truth.
“Both of you, be nice to your Mommy,” I said softly, not wanting anything more to fall on their shoulders.
“Because of...”
“Because you should,” I said quickly, not wanting to hear anything else about what this Paul character had to say, my blood boiling at just the thought of what could be.
Don’t think the worst...
Who was I kidding? Of course, I was going to think the absolute worst. Isn’t that what we had been doing all along?
“I wanna talk now,” Elizabeth said in the background.
“I not done,” Michael replied, before saying to me, “When I come back home, I think I left my football here but it’s okay so we can play, right? Can you play with me?”
Little Man, I’d give anything to have you here, tossing that ball in the back yard, trying to keep you from throwing it in the fountain... but it always end ups there, doesn’t it?
“Daddy?”
“I promise,” I said, sniffling slightly, praying that Elizabeth wouldn’t say anything to set him off. I just couldn’t take it; I knew I’d be on my way over there, and God only knows what kind of problems that would stir up, and I’d been drinking which would only reiterate what a horrible influence I am for our children. “I promise as soon as you are here, we are going out back and just... play.”
“Like fools,” he added, and I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Like fools,” I repeated. “I...” I held back, damning the tears that just wouldn’t fucking stop. “I promise.”
“Okay, Lizbeth wants to talk now,” Michael said. “You have to be good too, okay Daddy?”
“I will,” I said, cursing the day that an almost three-year-old child had to become the man of the house.
“I miss you.”
“I miss you too, Little Man.” And I’m going to fix this.
“I’m back, Daddy.” Elizabeth was now on the line, sounding a little more like her old self, as if hearing from me was enough to help her.
I knew exactly what that felt like.
Because hearing from her, from them... it renewed my resolve.
No one was going to take my kids away from me. Not if hell froze over, not over my dead body, not some judge, not a pack of lawyers, and definitely... definitely the only other person on this Earth that should know exactly what they meant to me.
“You heard me, right? You’re going to be good for your Mommy.”
No more ammunition, no chance that she’ll say that I’m trying to influence them to give her a hard time.
“I will.”
“I love you,” I said with absolute conviction. “And I’ll be there, at the center on Saturday to see you.”
“I love you too, Daddy.”
“Me too, Daddy!” I heard Michael say.
There was so, so very much I wanted to say to them, to try and convey exactly how I felt, promise them that everything was going to be okay. But there wasn’t enough time, there never was.
Michael was saying something about pizza, which meant my little man was on his way out of that room, away from the closest that I could be with him, out to that dining room table where that Paul character was probably sitting, maybe even at the head of the table, in my place.
My fucking place.
“Dinner time, Daddy. I love you.”
I could tell by the way her voice trailed off that she was setting the phone down, leaving me alone there, hanging on the line, my heart going a million miles a minute.
No... no, don’t go, baby girl! I... I’m not done! I didn’t get to tell you that I love you again, or ask you what you’d done today. I... I didn’t get to read or... or tell you a story. I didn’t get to tell you one more thing about you that reminds me of your mother, even though I wouldn’t get to see your face, see how proud it would make you. I... I didn’t get to blow kisses to you through the phone, or... or play the guess what I’m thinking of game. I didn’t get to...
“Jase?”
You fucking bitch...
Damn you, Talli... why?
Why did you take away the only reason I had left to move, to function, to breathe?
“Jase, we need to...”
I hit the end button.
I... I hung up on her.
I’d never done that before, not... not intentionally, not since that first call all those years ago, that fateful wrong number that led us...
Here.
Taking a deep breath, I stood and shoved that phone in my pocket, returning to the task at hand, praying I could make it to another day.
CHAPTER 18
TALLI
I HONESTLY CAN’T PINPOINT the exact date when I’d stopped turning to Jase, stopped reaching out to him. It had probably happened slowly, gradually, over a long period of time. I’m sure it hadn’t started out maliciously; it was more than likely started just out of the blue, out of circumstances being just so, one random day when he’d been too busy or I’d been too tired, maybe even both. It had escalated, though, broadening the gap between us until we were virtual strangers who shared a last name that had somehow acquired three children.
Even through everything, though, there was always some form of safety net, some way that I felt he’d still be there for me, even through the whole Bree fiasco. I’d always believed back in the recesses of my mind that if I reached out to him, he’d respond, we’d find a way through the darkness, and even if he didn’t want to be with me we’d still find a way to do the right thing. Together, we would make sure our children hurt as little as possible.
That one sweltering Monday in July changed everything.
When Jase hung up that phone, severing that one special tie between us, it ripped what was left of my heart in two. This was it. I knew it was; I’d known it for a long time. But this was just different. This was his way of telling me that he was done. No more trying, no more pretending.
It had gone too far.
I had pushed too hard.
After the kids were in bed, I moped around the rest of the evening, that stupid cell phone on me at all times. I debated with myself over and over whether or not I should call or maybe just send him a text message. Hell, I even contemplated turning on that damn computer and risk seeing any ‘breaking story’ about us to just send him an email.
But what would I say?
Seriously, was I going to apologize for his plan to take the kids from me backfiring? That would go over wonderfully. Should I try and strike a deal, tell him if he stayed away from Bree, I would drop this, go back to the original visitation plan? Hell, knowing Jase I’d probably just pushed him right into her arms. Go me.
That night I was just lonely. Incredibly lonely. I was in mourning for a love lost... no, not just a love lost, for also losing what was once my best friend, my closest confidante, someone who knew me so well he could tell by one glance, one syllable out of my mouth exactly what my mood was.
I missed him.
I missed...
I missed Not John.
And I found myself staring at that clock when it was showing 2:35 in the morning, knowing that technically it was three hours off since he called at 2:35 Ohio time, but wishing my phone was ringing.
Or...
Or that I had the nerve to call him.
And I almost did. I scrolled through, selecting his name, just staring at it willing myself to hit the call button.
And then the clock said 2:36.
And I lost my nerve.
Just like I had lost him.
TUESDAY MORNING BROUGHT about a phone call from Dr. Stewart telling me that their office was being staked out and asking me to not come in that day.
Just fucking lovely.
“You goin’ to work, Mommy?” Elizabeth asked sleepily as she wandered out into the kitchen.
“No, Baby Girl,” I said with a sigh. “Not today.”
Today I’d be stuck, a prisoner in my own home, wondering if my darling soon to be ex-husband and his size zero slutbag were going to cost me my job. I’d already fielded a call from the apartment manager, who was so very proud of himself for calling the police to try and keep the paparazzi from sneaking into the building when random tenants came in. And I’m sure that everyone in the building was absolutely thrilled to be reminded not to let anyone they didn’t personally know into the building.
With a sigh, I opened up my computer, hoping to avoid any sensational stories about Jase and/or me, with no such luck. This time, though, we were in a random piece about messy Hollywood breakups, musicians and actors alike in this crowd. Great. Now we weren’t just a breakup, we were a messy breakup apparently with the makings of one of the nastiest divorces that Hollywood had seen in ages.
My cell phone began ringing, an unknown number popping up, and for just one moment I resisted answering it. Then it kind of dawned on me that there were many phone numbers that I’d left behind in that house, that perhaps it was someone I needed to speak with.
I should have gone with my first instinct.
“Listen... I don’t need some bitter old hag dragging my name through the mud.”
Breeann Hamilton was the last person on the face of this Earth that I wanted to speak with.
“Where the fuck did you get this number from?”
