Page 49 of Interference

Early morning post-redeye drives had been full of sniping for a while now. Anything that had been brewing while we were traveling would come out, and we’d be at each other’s throats until we could finally get out of the damn car. Today, though… I just didn’t have the energy. And what was the point of fighting? We’d broken up. Our bullshit didn’t matter anymore, so I’d mentally packed it away just like I boxed up and stored jerseys and swag from teams I no longer played for. I wouldn’t say the drive home this morning was fun, but I was definitely happier to watch the familiar scenery go by than argue with him.

I was definitely ready to be away from him, too, and I almost released an audible sigh of relief as he turned down the driveway.

Thank God. Finally.

Simon pulled up in front of the garage door. He opened it but didn’t pull into the bay. With the engine idling, he turned to me and flatly asked, “What time are we leaving tomorrow?”

Tomorrow? What time were—

Oh. Right. Thanksgiving was tomorrow. Fuck.

I shrugged. “Russell said we can get there any time after eleven. So… I don’t know. Maybe leave here around ten thirty?”

Simon nodded. “All right. Ten thirty.”

“Okay.” I reached for the door, but paused. “I, um… Wyatt’s coming too.”

He furrowed his brow. “Wyatt? He’s still here?”

“Yes.” I narrowed my eyes, silently daring him to yet again accuse me of screwing Wyatt.

His glare definitely made the accusation, but he just muttered, “For fuck’s sake. And Russell knows he’s coming?”

“Of course he does.” I glared at him. “Look, he’s staying here, and I’m not going to just ditch him for the day, okay?”

“Does Russell know about the dog?”

“Yes, he does. And he’s fine with her coming.”

Simon made a displeased noise. “We’re taking your car, then.”

“Okay.” I was too tired to fight. I just got out, took my things out of the trunk, and shuffled inside. The rumble of his X5’s engine fading into the distance didn’t even make my chest hurt like it usually did. I’d almost always felt like a failure when he left, especially after we’d been fighting in the car. Like I’d tried to sort out our issues but only succeeded in making it worse. Him leaving instead of staying had always left me a mess because it always felt like my fault that we’d been fighting and my fault that he’d rather go back to his apartment than stay here. Every time he left, it seemed like he took another piece of me with him, and that fucking hurt.

Today I was about as emotional over his departure as I would be about a UPS driver driving away. I wondered what that meant.

Probably that I hadn’t had a chance to process our breakup, and once I’d had some time away from him—not to mention some sleep—then it would all sink in and I’d feel like shit. Couldn’t wait.

I trudged into the house. Usually the cats came thundering down the stairs to greet me. This time, there was a quiet thump, then another, and both trotted into the kitchen. Had they… Had they been sleeping in Wyatt’s room?

Hell, probably. They were extra cuddly at night, especially after I’d been gone, so it was no surprise they’d joined him. I was just glad he apparently didn’t mind. If he had, he would’ve shut the door.

I smiled to myself as I crouched to greet my boys. I always felt bad leaving them alone. There was a reason I had someone cat-sit whenever I had to be away for more than a couple of nights, but even these shorter trips made me feel guilty.

“Did you guys miss me?” I asked as they arched their backs and purred. Moose rubbed against my legs. Bear flopped onto this back, and when I scratched his belly, he purred even louder. They were a balm to the soul these days. It was nice to have someone who was happy to see me.

Wyatt didn’t emerge from the bedroom and none of the lights in the house were on, so he was probably still asleep. Fine by me—it was stupid early and I was ready to pass out myself.

I left my suitcase in the kitchen—something I never dared to do when Simon was here—scooped Moose up onto my shoulder, and said, “C’mon, Bear. Let’s go get some sleep.”

He was immediately upright again, trotting beside me as I carried Moose to the stairs. Given that he wasn’t the brightest creature on God’s green earth, he didn’t completely understand physics, so he tried to weave between my legs as I walked up the steps.

“Dude,” I said, trying to avoid him. “Do you want me and your brother to die? Is that it? Because you’re not a beneficiary on my life insurance. It’s not going to be all sunshine and catnip if you murder us.” I almost stepped on his paw but managed to miss. “Cats who kill their dads go to Al-cat-traz. You know that, right?”

He jumped past me, threw himself down on the step, and started rolling around on his back and flailing his huge paws in the air.

I rolled my eyes, steadied Moose, and carefully stepped over Bear. I made it to the bedroom without Bear knocking us down the stairs, and I set Moose on the pillow that had once been Simon’s. I paused, expecting a pang of sadness over that. Simon wasn’t coming back. We were over. That pillow was Moose’s from here on out.

But I felt… nothing. It wasn’t even that I was numb. More like there was nothing there to feel.

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