Page 9 of Two Wrongs

I grab my phone and my purse and start for the door. “Don’t wait up for me. I’ll be fine, I promise.”

“I’m old. I’m sure I’ll be up several times over the night. Just turn your porch light off and I’ll know you made it home safely. Then I won’t be one of those overbearing grandmas and come knocking in the wee hours.”

I smile at her. “Sure thing.”

* * *

“I’ll showyou to the break room so you can put your things in a locker,” Donovan says as I clock in for my shift.

“Bess will be in soon and she’ll show you the ropes. She can be a little crass, but you’ll get used to her. She’s no worse than our customers. You let me know if anyone gets out of line. I won’t stand for them playing grab ass with the waitresses,” he continues as we wander through the bar.

The night starts out slow. Bess comes in closer to Happy Hour, and I shadow her in taking orders and pouring drinks. Donovan is the main bartender, but both of us grab bottles of beer and pour drafts while he handles the mixed drinks. This crowd is more of a beer crowd though, so aside from the occasional whiskey and coke, there’s not much demand for any fancy cocktails.

I get light-headed when I see Liam walk in the door. We haven’t spoken in over a week. The last time wasn’t even the morning I caught him cheating. I try to wrack my brain, but I honestly can’t remember the last real conversation I had with my husband. I know it’s unlikely I can escape my farce of a marriage without ever speaking to him again, but I am not going to seek him out.

I told Dolores a small white lie earlier. I’m not ready to admit that a major reason for me to get this second job was because I need extra money to pay the lawyer I found earlier this week. There’s no point in waiting to file for divorce. There’s no amount of counseling that will erase the image of his naked ass flexing on top of some random slut.

Once I’ve filed, I do plan to sign up for college. Maybe I’ll even apply at Central Valley again. I doubt I can get another full scholarship, but perhaps I can still end up where I obviously should have gone in the first place.

I grab Bess’s arm and pull her around the corner, out of sight of Liam. “I know you have to go over and serve those tables, but that’s my soon-to-be ex-husband, and I really don’t want to see him.”

She pops her gum. She’s a few years older than me, but dresses like a teenager. Instead of pants she chose a black pleated skirt with a neon plaid pattern that makes her look like a goth Catholic school girl. It actually works for her, but I don’t think I could do it even for better tips.

“Did he cheat?” she asks.

“Yeah,” I croak. “I caught him last weekend, but I think he’s been cheating for a while.”

She nods, her expression serious. “I’ll take it tonight, but this is a small town. Everyone pretty much comes through here except for that uptight Lady’s Auxiliary group. Eventually you’re going to have to face him.”

“I plan to get the hell out of this town as soon as the ink is dry on my divorce papers,” I tell her.

“So did I, doll. Hell, maybe you’ll do it. Okay, I’ll take their order.”

I work diligently behind the bar for nearly thirty minutes. We’re slammed with customers and I fill beer after beer while I continue to watch Liam’s table from the corner of my eye. I think I’m going to get away with avoiding him until there’s a knock on the bar in front of me.”

“Wren, what the fuck are you doing working behind the bar?”

I look up and try not to melt. His face is so familiar that for a split second I want to leap over the bar and burrow into his arms. Then I remember it. Every vivid detail flashes in front of me, and I can’t make it stop.

“You don’t have the right to judge me. Not anymore,” I say quietly.

I hate that my voice wavers, that there’s a part of me that wants to cower and hide in the break room until he’s gone. It takes all the strength I have to lift my head and face him directly.

Liam throws some bills down on the bar. I look at them confused. His wallet is filled with cash. “Get your things. We are going home to talk.”

I can’t stop staring at the money. “I thought we were broke. How do you have so much money?”

“That’s what you want to talk about? You don’t need to worry about money. I handle that stuff so you don’t have to think about it. I know it stresses you out.”

“But I did worry. You never let me spend a dime. I didn’t even have access to our accounts, but you’re out living it up with a wad of cash.”

He holds out his hand. “Come home and we can talk about all of this. I know I messed up, but we can fix this. Things can go back to the way they were.”

I laugh, and move to the other end of the bar. This is not the place to start screaming at him. Talk? Like I could have a civil conversation with him. I feel so stupid. It took him cheating on me to open my eyes to all the other things that were wrong about my marriage.

Liam doesn’t drop it and follows me down the bar. He always was a stubborn ass. “Wren, get your things,” he says through clenched teeth. He’s on the verge of losing it, but this time I won’t cater to his mood.

Donovan comes over and slips his hand onto my waist. It doesn’t feel sexual, but it doesn’t look good either. There’s a very petty part of me that relishes how this must look to Liam.

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