Page 13 of Two Wrongs

“You just wanted to make sure I wasn’t planning on hurting myself, or worse,” she says, interrupting my dirty thoughts.

“Basically,” I admit.

“I’m not going to start telling you all my plans, since they include divorcing your son, but you can rest easy. I’m not going to try to end my life.”

I rest my arms on my legs so I can be closer to her eye level. “You need to get out of this town.”

“Congratulations,” she says and stands from the couch. “You’re finally going to get what you want.”

“Wren, that’s not what I meant. I don’t want you to leave here thinking you aren’t wanted.”

She laughs and shakes her head. “My husband has ignored me for months. He’s been sleeping with another woman. I’ve thrown myself at him over and over again. Then there’s you. Almost from the moment Liam and I got married you have treated me like the worst thing that’s ever happened to him. You’ve never been hesitant to try and convince him to leave me. Now, you’ll both get what you want, a life without me.”

My jaw clenches hearing her say she’s been throwing herself at him. In many ways, Liam is still a child in my mind, but I know he’s not. My jealousy over hearing that has nothing to do with my fatherly feelings for my child, and everything to do with a misplaced feeling of possessiveness for this woman. It’s fucked up and I need her to leave so I can let go of this sick infatuation I can’t shake.

“That’s not what I meant. You need to go for you. This town, my son, it’s bad for you. And I was pissed off when you guys got married. He wasn’t mature enough to be a husband, and you gave up too much to be his wife. He never should have asked you to give up your scholarship.” That all sounds good, and it’s mostly the truth. The best thing for her is to leave.

“I’ll be out of here soon enough. Until then, can you keep Liam out of Donovan’s? I just need some time to get some things in order.”

I’m nodding before she’s even finished speaking. “It’s the least he can do.”

“And you?”

“I’ll try, baby bird.”

She walks backwards toward the door. “You’re confusing the hell out of me, Griffin.”

I stalk her, until her back is pressed against the wood. “I know, and believe it or not, I am sorry.”

“You don’t like me,” she says, her voice weak and unsure.

Getting close to her ear I inhale the tropical scent of her shampoo. “Maybe I just don’t like how much I like you. Fly away, baby bird. You’re not safe here.”

Reaching behind her I open the door and turn my back to her. She wastes no time in fleeing down the porch steps. Her car cranks on, and sprays rocks as she speeds away from my house.

6

Wren

I yawn as I walk into Dolores’s house. It’s been a quiet week since the night the Hale men turned up at the bar. Not that my anxiety lets me enjoy the relative peace. Every time the door opened at the bar I tensed up. My body is now a patchwork of knots and tight muscles.

There’s a clock counting down now though. I stopped by my lawyer’s after work at the insurance office yesterday and signed my divorce papers. Sometime Monday Liam will be served, and hopefully he’ll sign the papers and we can both move on with our lives.

He can date anyone he wants, out in the open, and even fuck them in his own bed. I can stop asking myself what I’ve done wrong while I sit at home alone night after night. Now, being alone is my choice, and not because my husband gave some lame excuse about working late.

“There’s fresh coffee in the pot, dearie,” Dolores says as she enters the room.

“This late? You usually have your coffee at the crack of dawn, and it’s—“

She raises one gray eyebrow. “The crack of noon? I heard your alarm going off a few times this morning, and when it stopped I knew you’d be heading over.”

Another yawn forces its way out. “You can hear that from here?”

She moves to wash her hands at the sink, and that’s when I notice all the dirt. “Of course not dear. I needed to winterize my roses, and plant a few bulbs for the spring.”

I pour a huge cup of coffee. I don’t actually like coffee, but working as much as I have been, I’m practically living off of it now. Of course, I have to doctor it with plenty of cream and sugar.

“You’re working too much. I know I told you to stay busy, but you could hang out with a friend or something. It doesn’t all have to be work,” she advises.

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