Page 101 of Unhinged

Dr. Abramson says, “You’ve upset Simone. Don’t you think you owe her an explanation for your actions tonight?”

Greg tries the stairs, but Amos guides him again. Did Greg drink a ton, or is he a lightweight? God. I’ve dated alcoholics. I can’t have married one.

Amos fists the back of Greg’s coat as he pushes him forward. Greg stops in front of us with a boozy smirk and a sway. He glances at his mother, but his eyes land heavy on me. His smile falls apart, and his eyes are steel. “Did you have fun tonight, Mrs. Rodwell?”

I straighten as we face off. “I did. It appears you did too.”

“Fun? Yeah.” He pushes between his mother and me but stumbles on the threshold. Greg regains his footing as he goes into the house.

I follow Dr. Abramson, and Amos follows me, but he pulls on my arm. I turn to him as I shut the door, and he says, “This is the second time I’ve seen him like this since moving here. Something is troubling him.”

I nod. “There is, but I don’t know how to help him when he won’t let me.”

“I think you’re the only one he will allow.”

We hear Greg arguing with his mother, so we head toward the voices. We walk down a hallway, where pictures of Greg adorn one side of the wall. I stop, and Amos says, “The little girl in these is his older sister, Eden.”

My eyes fly from picture to picture. Greg was a dorky-looking kid and teen, but I would’ve crushed on him so fucking hard from grades below him. He’s come a long way, but he’s still that dork. Just scorching hot now. My stomach and chest tighten as I think of him taking care of his older, sick sister. He’s a caring person but never asks for anything in return. It’s my turn to take care of him. Not because of a legal obligation, but because I want to.

“I don’t care, Mom. I don’t need her to help me.”

“Greg, Simone is your wife.” It jars me to hear anyone say that. Though it’s true.

I stand in the doorway as I see Greg sitting on the edge of the bed with his back to me, trying to remove his boots. Seeing the posters in his room makes me smile for two seconds before he says, “We’re not in love. Our marriage isn’t for real.”

Dr. Abramson glances at me with an apologetic frown before saying, “Sweetheart, don’t say that.”

I hear his clenched teeth. “The truth is, I’m only a hard dick for Mrs. Rodwell to pass the time and a last name to stick it to Daddy. Get Simone out of here.”

My sharp inhale accompanies the pain I feel. Before I realize it, Amos is hugging me when I burst into tears unexpectedly.

“Gregory Richard, that is enough! Look what you just did to Simone! She is not a girlfriend you kick to the side!” Greg doesn’t respond as he stares at the wall. She smacks his arm. “Get some sleep because tomorrow you need to fix your marriage, son.”

Dr. Abramson walks toward Amos and me and turns off the ceiling light. I say, “I’d like to talk to Greg alone.” Dr. Abramson and Amos talk at the same time, trying to dissuade me.

Before I interrupt them, Greg says, “You got one minute, Garrison.”

Amos argues, but I shake my head at him. He then relents, and Dr. Abramson says, “I’m leaving the door open in case…” She frowns, and with a sigh, follows Amos.

I cross my arms as I walk over to face Greg. With his head bowed, he looks like he’s asleep, but from his fast breaths, I know he’s not. I sigh. “What is your problem?”

He humorlessly laughs toward the carpet. “Oh, nothing. I just had to watch Tesco ride your leg.”

I roll my eyes at the top of his head. “He didn’t do that. We had dinner.”

“I bet you did.”

I whisper angrily, “I’m keeping my promise, but you still accuse me of breaking it at every turn when you’re the rule breaker of your own ground rules. And us getting married was your idea. But here we are again, you throw a tantrum because I’m dating, which is what we agreed was okay to do. Just no sex with others for two weeks.”

“You—”

“I’m not done. Although you’re being a dick to me again, I care about you, but it’s rapidly dwindling. I told Ricky you’re my closest friend. Does that matter to you? No. And for you to say I only want you for a hard dick when you were the one to first use me for a wet cunt, you’re a fucking hypocrite. It doesn’t matter if you’re drunk. It just means you’re less inhibited to state your true feelings. We’re done with our two weeks. Right now. As for our marriage, I’m out. I’ll gladly live with Garrison because I don’t need your unwilling humanity disguised as phony compassion. It’s not worth the pain. At least my daddy doesn’t pull that bullshit with me, Rod.”

He glares up at me with glassy, dark eyes from the booze. With heavy breaths, he says nothing, so I leave. I find Amos and Dr. Abramson in the kitchen. They wait for me to spill the tea on myself, but I say, “If it’s okay, I’d like to sleep here. On the couch.”

“You can wear one of mine or Eden’s nightgowns, or Greg has T-shirts.” I nod but don’t care what I wear tonight. “You can sleep in Eden’s room. There are clean sheets on the bed, and there’s a lock on the door.” She flinches, needing to say that about her drunk son. Despite his recent assholery, Greg wouldn’t hurt me physically, drunk or not.

“Um…okay.”

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