Page 80 of Expecting an Argument
A neon blue sticky note with my confession would just become another part of the hoard.
My heart grew heavier as the felt tip of the marker hovered over the note. I practiced what I had wanted to write and rejected each message, one by one, refusing to give him the heartbreak he would hold on to for the rest of his days.
“I love you.”
“I will never be good enough for you.”
“In another life, I would have worn matching Christmas pajamas with you.”
In the end, I held back. I saved him from himself. Hopefully, his love for me would wither until it was harmless.
After the ink was dry on the paper, I capped the marker and tossed it into the darkness of the top drawer along with our family portrait.
At least I still told him the truth.
My hand gently brushed back the fur around Titus’s ear as I silently read the note:
“Thank you for everything. You’re going to be a great dad.”
Titus and I quietly left the study behind and met Ashley in the foyer. She reported that she grabbed everything out of my room, but couldn’t find my pregnancy journal. My tongue was too leaden to respond, but I didn’t have enough in me to even care.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, memorizing the way the manor smelled. Orange oil, from the wood polish. French lavender, from the air freshener in the formal living room. Dried grass, from Titus’s paws. Slowly, I released the breath as I turned to the front door with Ashley—silently giving a farewell to the place I unexpectedly came to know as home.
Before I crossed the threshold, I bent down as low as I could and gave Titus a kiss on the head.
“Take care of him for me, OK, boy?” I whispered as I scratched the fluff on the sides of his face.
Titus gave me a sad little whine, but lowered his body to the tile floor and rested—ready for Beau whenever he came back.
And though I wanted to lock myself in, to run up to Beau’s room and become part of his hoard of precious things, I couldn’t just think about what I wanted.
Annie and Brady needed parents who wouldn’t break each other’s hearts.
With a silent sigh, I resolutely took my first step out of Fontaine Manor for what was likely the final time. I was finally the independent mother I always wanted to be. I had complete control of my life, my career, and my future.
And it hurt.
The toe of my sock pushed against the floor as I rocked back and forth in the wooden nursery chair and stared at the striped wallpaper. Titus rested on the rug near my feet—he had stuck to me like glue since Olivia left.
The Bored Bros podcast played on my phone as it rested on my lap. We still had three months until football season, but the Bored Bros were running a whole segment on the new recruiting classes for Lindsay University and Plains State. I couldn’t even pretend to give a fuck, but the noise filled the haunting silence.
“Lindsay’s starting quarterback took some time off at the end of last season after that big injury,” Bret Bogeman said. “I have some serious doubts about his recovery going into what the coaches say is going to be a new era of Crimson Knight football.”
“I bet $500 Coach replaces him with new blood,” said Bobby Ballinger. “I’ve watched enough football to know that once you’re out, you’reout.”
I took a sip from my whiskey. The ice ball had halfway melted and washed out most of the flavor, but a little hydration wouldn’t hurt me at this point.
I had all a man needed—a good dog, a good drink, and some good football.
Footsteps echoed in the hallway and Mom opened the nursery door.
She wrinkled her nose at the sight of me. “Beau, it’s been a week. You need to stop moping.”
I took another drink. “I’m not moping, I’m relaxing. Leisure time is about to become pretty fucking rare once the twins are born, so forgive me for wanting to soak up as much ‘me’ time as I can.”
Mom put her hands on her hips. “Quit lying to yourself. You look worse now than when I picked you up from jail!”
I wiped a drop of whiskey off the scruff on my chin. Fine, maybe I hadn’t shaved in a while, or showered, and I couldn’t remember the last time I changed out of pajamas, but who was around for me to impress?
