Page 14 of Fourth Wall

“A washcloth? I’m okay. I don’t need anything…”

“Nonsense,” she shouted from the bathroom. “My mom always said a cool washcloth could fix all problems. She would hand it to me when I was sick, when I would get anxious, or when I needed some comfort.” I gave her a pointed look.

“Eh, it’s a thing.” She emerged with the washcloth before pressing it against my forehead.

“What time is it?” she asked, changing the subject.

“Sometime in the very early hours of the morning.” I stared back at her now that my vision had returned. Her hair was matted around her face, and a small imprint of a hand was on her face where she had been lying.

I knew no one had come in. I had been doing checks around the house and finished doing one right before falling asleep.

“Want to know the worst part of being divorced with two kids?” She leaned into me, pressing the washcloth over my head.

“Thank you for this. I feel…better,” I offered as it pained me to talk about my feelings.

“Suit yourself.” She put the washcloth on the table next to us before grabbing a blanket and putting it over her.

“What’s the worst part about being divorced?” I turned to face her, and my back was against the arm of the couch.

“It’s not like I can have someone sleep over and cuddle with me. I hate it. In fact, I haven't been with anyone since my divorce because the thought of doing it quickly and then leaving kinda defeats the purpose of sex for me.” The way she sighed after she confessed this to me made me want to pull her immediately onto my lap. “Anyway, I’m being a dumb girl.”

“No.” I reached out to pat her thigh…over the blanket. “It’s not dumb. I get it. Sometimes sex is so much more than just getting off.” She smiled at me like I understood what she was trying to say.

“I know we talk a lot of shit, Christian, but it’s nice to have you here tonight. I needed the company more than I thought I did.” I looked over at the TV quickly because I didn’t want her to see my exterior melting away in front of her. I was not going to be soft. I needed to be tough. If I got soft, then I would be vulnerable. Vulnerability was bad for an addict like myself.

“Were you watching HGTV reruns?” She laughed when she looked at the TV.

“Got something against home reno shows, firecracker?” I gave her a pointed glance, but her melodic laughter filled the room and droned out the voices on the television.

“No. I love them.”

And that was how we spent the next few hours—sitting next to each other on the couch, actively avoiding touching each other, talking mad shit about what ridiculous choices the hosts picked for the renovations.

It wasn’t until I didn’t hear anything and felt a soft thump against my shoulder that I looked down. Maeve had fallen asleep and leaned over so she was lying on me.

I quickly repositioned her so her head was in my lap, and she curled up to me. I would ignore the fact that she had fit perfectly tucked into the crook of my neck as she laid there.

Yup, totally ignoring it. Totally perfect.

10

Maeve

A few days had passed, and it was finally Friday when I was supposed to go to court to face Tyler. Alex had connected me with a lawyer he swore up and down was the best in the entire state. My parents helped pay his retainer and were appalled that their ex-son-in-law would even consider taking me to court.

I was also actively doing everything to avoid Christian. After waking up from sleeping in his lap, I had very scrambled memories of coming onto him that night and was horribly embarrassed. He left before I could apologize. I had shit going on, so I never texted him, and he never texted me. I guess the ignoring was going both ways, then.

There was a small knock on the door, and my mom stood in the doorway.

“Are you ready? The lawyer is meeting us at the courthouse.” I nodded, grabbing my black purse to match the somber black pantsuit I bought with her yesterday. “I’m sorry Dad couldn’t be here today, hunny. He had to work.”

I loved my parents. My dad worked hard to provide for us growing up. I often felt like I was a constant disappointment to them, though. They never shamed me for my choices, but getting pregnant before graduating from college wasn’t something they had wanted for me. They also hated Tyler. Well, they tolerated him, but they weren’t his biggest fans.

“Honey, come outside,” my mom’s voice rang from the driveway.

Standing outside were Tatum, Chels, and Gianna. I ran over to them.

“What are you guys doing here?” I exclaimed.

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