Page 11 of 7 Nights of Sin

"Who says I did anything?" I muttered. Marrying her was the only real mistake I'd made. Marrying her and then having a life of my own that meant I couldn't spend all my time showering her with gifts and dealing with her drama.

"She's the one who cheated, you know," I continued, taking another long drink. "More than once. She wasn't even subtle about it. She'd tell me she called someone to come unclog the gutters while I was at an away game or that her car had broken down and some guy had been nice enough to give her a lift. Just total bullshit to try and cover her tracks."

"You never talked about that before," Manny said, and I shrugged.

"It wasn't a big deal."

"Pretty sure when your wife cheats on you, it's a big deal," he pointed out.

"She just wanted attention. It was always about attention with her. When I didn't get mad and scream or whatever, she said she wanted a divorce. Happiest day of my life."

"And now she wants more attention, obviously."

"Yeah. Or money or something, I dunno. I haven't seen or heard from her since the papers were sighed and I moved out. She got the house, what fucking more does she want?"

"Your career to go down in flames?"

I chugged from the bottle, draining it easily. "Yeah, well. She can go to hell. I'm not going down that easy."

"Takes more than that to knock Kevin Porter off his game," Manny said, toasting me with his bottle. "But hey, you should listen to this publicist. I know how much being able to play means to you."

It meant everything to me. "Yeah, I know. I'm gonna try."

Saturday was spent not watching TV or spending much time online. I went for a run instead, and the good thing about New York was that everyone else had a million other things to care about other than me, I wasn't stopped or harassed on my route.

I ran and then came home and showered and made myself straighten my apartment up.

When we'd gotten divorced, Christine ad taken the house with my compliments. It was big and gaudy, and I hadn't wanted it in the first place, but she'd claimed to be in love with it.

I was more than happy living in the city with my apartment, jammed in with everyone else. It was where I felt the most alive.

The gym I liked to use was right down the street even, and I made my way there on Sunday, tired of being inside. It wasn't like I could get into trouble at the gym, after all. On Sundays it was mostly deserted, and I had the machines to myself.

I took myself through my usual routine, doing my reps with my headphones in, blocking out anything but the sound of the machines and the noise of my breathing.

I got in the zone when I worked out, forgetting about whatever might be bothering me, and it felt good to have a chance to do that.

It was the off season, but that didn't mean I had time to get out of shape.

When I was finally done, there was a text from Caro. She wanted to meet again, at the same coffee shop as before.

She had the same number she'd had when we were in college, and seeing her name on my screen was like a blast from the past. I'd never deleted her from my contacts, always letting it carry over when I got a new phone, even though I hadn't known why.

I definitely didn't think we'd ever be talking again. Especially not like this.

I shot back a text confirming the place and time and went to hit the showers.

Dealing with all this shit sucked, but the chance to be around Caro again was an unexpected bright side.

I walkedinto the coffee shop on Tuesday, and she was there at the same table she'd been at before. Five minutes early. Well. I was five minutes early. Who knew how long Caro had been there.

I hadn't been kidding when I said she looked good. She hadn't grown much height wise, still a good six or seven inches shorter than I was and probably just as mad about it, but her hair was longer. Bone straight and dark black, pulled into a low ponytail that went down her back.

She had those same green eyes, too clever and observant for her own good, and she still held her mouth the same way when she was thinking or reading or otherwise kind of zoned out. Half pursed, the bottom lip pulled between her teeth.

I'd kissed that lip so many times back in the day, and I had to swallow hard against the sudden rush of memory.

I stood there for a second, just looking at her, and then I shook myself and walked over to her table. She was, as she usually was, engrossed in her laptop, eyes flicking across the screen, and it wasn't until I dragged a chair out and sat down that she looked up to pay attention to me.

---