Page 24 of Two Wrongs

“I’ll take your silence to mean that you left a horny, pissed off woman at the table.”

I nod. “I was a little distracted.”

“Too distracted to notice she didn’t leave. She followed you both down the hallway, and heard the door rattling, and all the grunts and groans coming from inside. She called Laura, the woman I was with in case you forgot,” he explains.

“I didn’t forget, I never cared to get her name in the first place,” I admit.

“Well, she called, bitching up a storm, so thanks a lot for cock blocking me. What the fuck were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t thinking, is that what you want to hear? It was all too much. Liam’s betrayal, my feelings for—“

“His wife,” Charlie chimes in.

I suppress a growl at hearing her called that. Ever since the moment I took her into the storage room I’ve struggled to see her as anything except mine.

“I’ve tried to fight this,” I say.

“It sounds like you’ve given up.”

“Charlie, I did that years ago.”

He gets in my face. “Snap out of it. This thing you have for Wren will go away. What’s important is that you sort Liam out. He cannot find out about this.”

Charlie grabs my shoulder and gives me a little shake. “He’s the priority. Go find him.”

I grab my keys and head out to my truck. The drive to his apartment is quick since it’s only a couple miles away. His car is in the parking lot. I rush up the stairs and start pounding on the door.

“I’m coming,” he slurs on the other side of the door.

I push past him when he opens the door. There’s take out containers strewn about, and a smell I can’t tell whether it’s from him or the rotting food. I pull my shirt over my nose, and start opening windows.

“Go take a shower. I’ll clean up a little, then we’ve got to talk.”

“Just go, I don’t need you here,” he slurs.

“Are you drunk?” I look around for empty bottles, and find several scattered around mixed in with the rest of the trash.

“My wife left me, so what if I am?” He stumbles toward the fridge, and pulls out another beer.

I rip it from his hand, and pour it down the sink. “Shower, now.” I shove him toward the bathroom.

Before she left, they argued over chores. Liam always made it sound like Wren didn’t pull her fair share. Stupidly, I believed him. It was one of the many excuses I used to justify my treatment of her, rather than look deep and admit the reason I resented her being in his life was because she couldn’t be mine. It seems without her, my son is falling apart.

I find cleaning supplies and trash bags under the sink. Since the apartment is small I’m able to have the majority of the mess cleared away before he emerges from the bathroom.

“Why are you here?” he asks, already a bit more sober from the shower.

“It’s Monday.” I wait for recognition, but he continues to give me the same annoyed stare. “Work, Liam. You work during the week.”

“I’m nursing my wounds,” he grumbles, and drops onto the couch.

“They’re self-inflicted, so don’t think you’re going to get a lot of sympathy.”

“I never meant for her to leave. I love her. I know it doesn’t seem like it. After my accident, I’ve just felt like I was missing out on being young.”

“You make it sound like you almost died. It was a fender bender.”

“I had a concussion and whiplash.”

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