Part 31 (2/2)

”It's that easy for you, is it? Carve a name on a slab of granite, and I'll magically be back to how I was before. Like I'm not going to constantly know a piece of me is missing.”

”It's a grieving tool, Alieya. And no, this isn't easy for me. This has been so G.o.dd.a.m.n hard.” His jaw clenches. ”I go to the office and come back to a home where I'm treated like a f.u.c.king stranger. You don't talk to me. You barely look at me, and you recoil when I touch you.”

”Yeah, you're right. You go to the office. You go to the office. You go to office. You come home to sleep. There's no one here to talk to. No one to look at. No one to touch.”

”I'm doing it for us. I have a shot at making partner someday. The money I'd make would ensure-”

”f.u.c.k the money! I don't care about any of that, Maverick. I never have,” I yell.

Red lights up in his eyes. ”You want out of this apartment. You b.i.t.c.h about how small it is and the s.h.i.+tty location.”

”No. I hate this apartment because I'm alone in it!”

”You wanted a cat, I got you a G.o.dd.a.m.n cat! What the f.u.c.k do you want?” he snaps.

”You, Maverick. You're all I've ever wanted.”

”I'm here. I've always been here.” He stands up. ”You haven't.”

I curl my legs up to my chest and stare him. ”I can't do this anymore, Maverick. I'm done.”

He runs a hand through his hair. ”Yeah, me too. Let's go to bed.”

”No, Maverick. I mean I'm done.”

”Done?”

I nod, the burn of tears searing my eyes. ”With us.”

Chapter 51.

Present day 10:09 p.m.

Maverick I can't open my eyes. I can't move. h.e.l.l, I'm not even sure I'm breathing. Every point in my body feels like I'm crushed under a collapsed building.

The last thing I remember is being blinded by some a.s.shole's headlights, and after that I'm blank. Am I still in the car?

I don't know. Dammit.

Alieya. The flowers.

s.h.i.+t.

Alieya.

The day comes back in a flood. I got off work early, because I couldn't concentrate. I kept thinking about our fight. She said she was done with us. What does that even mean? Is she asking for a divorce?

If she is, I won't sign. Life got hard, but I don't give up that easily. I'm a fighter, a lawyer for Christ's sake. Yeah, we're in h.e.l.l. Now it's time to walk through it-together.

When she texted me about dinner, I'd hoped it was to talk. We need to talk. Work through this s.h.i.+t like adults.

I should have gone straight home to her. I should have waited to make that appointment with the monument mason until she came around to the idea. All I wanted to know was what our options were. Get a good sense of a timeline and cost.

She accused me of being heartless. Maybe I am. Maybe my heart shattered the night I came home and found her in the bathroom. I've never seen so much blood. Alieya looked like a ghost. When she collapsed, I lost it. I slid across the floor to her and cradled her. I thought she was going to die.

I was a f.u.c.king mess while they had her in surgery. They wouldn't tell me a G.o.dd.a.m.n thing. It's frustrating as h.e.l.l, knowing your wife is in danger and your child is probably gone. And there wasn't a d.a.m.n thing I could do.

That's my job-I fix things. I help serve justice. Plaintiff and defendant; right and wrong; guilty and not guilty.

Black and white.

But I couldn't fix this. There is no justice.

Three units of blood is what they gave her. I brought her home the next day. She slept and cried, and nothing I said made a difference. I lost her that night too.

So I called Finley to get her back. She did what I couldn't. And, again, what kind of justice is that? I couldn't even break through to my own wife.

But last night, last night almost killed me.

I applied to Yale for her back in December. I wanted for her to be successful at what she loved. School of Art at Yale is supposed to be one of the best. I thought she'd be excited.

After the monument appointment, I sent her a fake text and went to Grant Park to think. I sat on a bench and watched water spill over the upper rim of the fountain. Children pointed and cooed, their mothers encouraging their wonder. In the west corner, a man painted the scene, drawing a small crowd of onlookers.

All I could think about was what Alieya said-I haven't been there. She's right. I've been focusing on my career. So much so that I've developed an ulcer and hide a prescription of sleeping pills in the glove compartment of the car. That's never what I wanted, to work myself to death. To miss out on my own life because I'm too busy sorting out everyone else's.

s.h.i.+t, Finley stayed with us for a week, and I saw her twice. That's how often I was home. My wife needed me, and I wasn't there.

And then I realized it was our anniversary. Our first one. How had I forgotten?

I'm such an a.s.shole.

I bought her flowers. I should have bought her the whole d.a.m.n world. I have to get to her.

I try to open my eyes. Move an arm. Speak. Nothing happens.

I'm trapped. I can't get to the part where my thoughts translate into action.

That's not acceptable.

I need to wake up. I need to see my wife.

<script>