Page 31 of Rectify

“That dude has a fucking child.”

“Don’t get all high and mighty, Jagger,” I scold. “Once upon a time you weren’t a great dad either.”

The insult singes my tongue as it leaves my mouth. It’s below the belt. So low. It hurts me, just as much as I intended to hurt him.

“You’re comparing me to Jay fucking Evans,” he seethes.

“I’m just saying, we’ve all changed. Maybe he has too.”

“So you would just do me and Hendrix wrong like that? After all this time?” Unknowingly he gives life to the reasoning behind all my choices. Everybody else is a priority but me.

“You both have all you need,” I say, challenging him. “This interest you have in my life right now is pure selfishness.”

“Your decisions affect us all.”

“They do, but just like I lived with you going to prison, and I’m living with Hendrix picking the other woman, how about you two live with my decisions for a change?”

“But, him?”

He misses my point, too hung up on Jay. “There’s nothing to worry about. If you weren’t such a hot head and listened to the whole conversation.Properly. You would’ve heard me take a hard pass on meeting up with him.” It’s a lie, but it’s as necessary as my next breath. I run with it, convincingly throwing him off. “Instead you conjured up a whole fictitious scenario and got your dick in a twist.”

“Why’d you get so damn defensive then, huh?”

“You called me stupid, Jagger.” This seems to put him back in his place, the disbelief on his face retreating; becoming a bit more apologetic. “It’s my life, and contrary to what you may think, you don’t have any say in the decisions I make.”

“That’s not fair, I’m just looking out for you.”

I nod because I understand, but it doesn’t change anything. I stand to make my way inside. Looking back before leaving, I catch his eyes and glance at him apologetically. “Don’t act so surprised. We both know life’s not fair.”

It’s always been like this with Jagger, we love each other fiercely, but whenever one of us has a point to prove, it’s like repetitive rounds in a boxing ring. Each swing is an underhanded insult or an unexpected revelation.

The worst part is tonight, everything I told him is the truth, but he doesn’t really want to listen. I’m sick of keeping my truths to myself. I don’t want to be the only one making sacrifices, trying to hold it all together. After all these years, I want to try and be me.

* * *

I leave their house in a bundle of confusion. Tonight we managed to take two steps forward only to take three steps back. Knowing that Dakota was staying back for her weekly sleepover meant that I left as soon as I could, guilt-free, with nothing but Jay on my mind.

Jagger’s warnings were exactly what I anticipated they’d be, but instead of being the deterrent it initially was, his demands make me want nothing more than to show him he doesn’t get a say in what I do or who I talk to. It’s rebellious and childish, but right now, it’s so damn appealing.

I get home in no time, and after a quick shower, I settle into bed with my Kindle. It’s only nine, but there’s nothing I love more than quiet reading time before bed. And after the night I’ve had, I need to numb my mind, reduce my anxiety, and just take a few moments.

I’m about an hour into my book when my phone beeps on the nightstand. If Dakota was home, I wouldn’t bother looking up from the book, choosing to worry about it in the morning.

But just in case, I grab it and swipe at the notification. It opens to a message from an unknown number, which I now recognise as Jay’s.

Unknown Number: I’m sorry for calling you earlier.

I check the time and notice it’s close to two hours since he called. Debating whether or not to respond, another message shoots through.

Unknown Number: But I’m grateful you agreed to tomorrow.

I try not to overthink what tomorrow will bring, hoping I can explain that I accepted the invitation with the intention to reiterate my stance on reconnecting with him. But a part of me is unmistakably curious to hear what he could possibly have to say.

I get lost in my own thoughts, imagining a million different scenarios. Unfortunately, with each one, my resolve weakens, and the idea of reacquainting with Jay instead of pushing him away, sounds more and more attractive.

I choose not to type out a quick reply and toss the phone aside to continue reading. I don’t know why, but I keep looking at my phone wanting him to reach out again, even though I’ve given him no reason to.

After re-reading the same sentence for ten minutes, I pick up my phone and give into the distraction.

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