Page 70 of Two Wrongs

“How do you know that’s not what I’m doing?” I’m trying to ignore the fact I’m having a sex talk with an octogenarian, who frankly scares me a little. Also, I’m planning to scrub the fact she said “wiener” out of my brain the first chance I get.

“I hope you aren’t. I might have cataracts, but I’m not blind. I know she’s a pretty girl, but I also know you. There’s no way you’d risk your relationship with your son just to get fresh with his wife.”

Hard to argue with her logic. As much as I’d like to tell myself what Wren and I have is just physical, I know she’s right. “That’s the problem though. You say to follow my heart, but what do I do if it’s tearing me in two different directions?”

“Considering what Liam has done to both of you, he should know he has no right to assert any kind of claim on Wren. And if he loves you, he’d want you to be happy. Love forgives. Answer me this, if you choose him, will Wren forgive you?”

“Of course. Wren is the most selfless woman I’ve ever met.”

Dolores rocks the chair until she’s able to hoist her tiny body out of it. She shuffles over and pats my arm. “Perhaps the one who will let you walk away without anger is the one you should hold on to. I suspect you’ll get a lot wrong before you get it right. You always have. Just remember forgiveness is given not earned, but a good grovel goes a long way to hurry it along.”

She turns to head back into the house, no doubt to do a never ending list of chores that keeps her busy. “You let me know if you need another bug infestation to buy you more time with her.”

I chuckle. The woman hasn’t changed in the thirty years I’ve known her. I hope I won’t have to take her up on her offer though. I want Wren to stay with me because she wants to, not because I’ve manipulated her into it.

* * *

My phone buzzesin the center console just as I pull in front of my house. Wren’s car is already in the driveway, so I sit in my car to answer it, already suspecting who the call is from based on the unknown caller ID.

I answer and immediately hear Liam’s voice. “Can you bring me some cigarettes when you come up?”

A sharp pain starts to pulse behind my left eye. “Since when do you smoke?”

He huffs. “Considering you didn’t know I was washing down pills with whiskey, does that really matter?”

God this kid. Maybe I did fuck up too much having him so young. I shake that thought out of my head. I can’t take the blame for all of his mistakes. I sure as hell own all of mine. My parents were class-A dickbags, and I never once blamed them for me becoming a teenage father.

“Is that really something they allow there?” I ask.

“Everyone here smokes like a chimney. It helps with the shakes and shit. I know it’s replacing one addiction for another, but pick your poison.”

“Smoking will kill you,” I say, and I realize I sound exactly like a lecturing father.

“So will pills, old man. At least I’ll have years to quit smoking,” he shoots back.

I grunt. “Fine, as long as they let you have them I’ll bring some.”

He’s quiet for a moment, and I know where the conversation is heading. “Is Wren coming with you?”

“She said she would. Although, it would serve you right if she backs out. Did you really have to fuck around with her best friend?”

I hear him suck in a breath. “How do you know that?”

“Because that bitch showed up here while Wren and I were talking about this visit, and she made sure to tell Wren she’s carrying your baby.”

Something crashes on his end of the phone. “That fucking bitch! She was supposed to let me tell her.”

Not for the first time I am engulfed in a wave of sadness and disappointment. “How exactly did you think that was going to go over? From what it sounds like you’ve been checked out of your marriage for months, arguing over whether or not to have kids, and her best friend shows up with the one thing she wants most?”

He’s breathing hard now, and I fear I’ve said too much. Shown him a bit more of my feelings than I wanted to. “How close have you gotten to my wife?”

“She’s all alone, Liam. You made her family. Am I supposed to ignore her and leave her to deal with this by herself?”

“You always have before,” he states.

“That was before you screwed us both and left us to pick up the pieces,” I snap. I hate this feeling, wanting to end this conversation. I miss the time when everything he did was a marvel to me, and filled me with pride.

“Just make sure she shows up tomorrow. She’s still my wife, and she promised she’d give therapy a chance if I came here. I’m going to hold her to that.”

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