He finally releases my arm, letting it drop to my side. He doesn’t move, keeping me pinned against the wall. The familiar pain shoots up my arm.
“Atlas, it’s not how it looks, but it doesn’t matter. We are separated, we are getting a divorce. Although it’s not finalized yet, what I do now is none of your concern.”
“None of my concern? Are you kidding me? I told you I’m not letting you go. I’m not signing those fucking papers. When you married me, it was for better or for worse.”
“You don’t get to pick and choose which vows mean something and which ones don’t. I’m not having this argument with you. You need to leave.”
Two knocks interrupt us, sending Atlas’ gaze shooting toward the door.
“You’ve got to be fuckin’ kidding me,” he growls under his breath. “The mother fucker shows up here, with my son down the hall.”
He pushes himself back, crossing the distance from where we’re standing to the door. “What can I do for you, officer?”
“Ahh, is Haelynn here?” Corbin asks, attempting to peer over Atlas’s shoulder. Atlas rests his forearm against the doorframe, making it harder to see past him.
“Yes, she is. She’s my wife. We’re about to sit down and eat dinner,” he lies. He’s playing it off like he has no idea about the two of us, attempting to throw Corbin off by his response.
“We had a call come in, someone concerned about yelling coming from over here. Small town, you know. People get worried. Can I speak to her myself? I just need to check and make sure everything is all right.”
“Phone call? From who?” Atlas looks out the window, searching for any sign of a nosey neighbor who may be outside overhearing our conversation.
Huxton.
“That information is not pertinent at the moment, sir. I’m going to have to ask you to step outside.”
I spot another officer behind Corbin and suck in a deep breath. He signals with his fingers for Atlas to come outside. He pushes the screen door open, taking a step out onto the porch, jogging down the front stoop.
I turn to go down the hall to check in on Huxton. Tears prick my eyes and my heart aches at the thought of him making the phone call.
“Sir, if you don’t calm down, I’m going to have to put you in cuffs.”
I rush toward the door, seeing Atlas and Corbin standing toe to toe.
“What? You didn’t think I knew you were trying to move in on my wife?”
He shakes his head. I’m not sure if he’s trying to cover up a laugh or resisting the urge to put him in his place. Corbin’s partner forces his arm between the two of them, attempting to separate him, but it doesn’t stop Atlas. He’s like a rabid dog, he doesn’t back down.
In one quick move, I watch as Atlas shoves his partner to the side while simultaneously spitting in Corbin’s face. It’s a cheap shot, catching him off guard, right before he lands a punch in his face.
I scream at Atlas to stop. Corbin shakes it off, clenching his jaw before he lowers his shoulder and tackles Atlas to the ground.
“Don’t fucking move,” his partner shouts.
Corbin uses the sleeve of his uniform to wipe the spit off his face, moving his jaw from side to side. He peers up, noticing me standing in the doorway. Once they get the cuffs on him, he pushes off him and heads toward me.
I open the screen door to let him in, and move into the living room to avoid anyone, especially Atlas, from seeing us.
“Are you okay?” he asks, when he turns the corner, and I don’t hesitate from wrapping my arms around his neck needing him. His arms circle my waist, pulling me toward him.
“I’m so sorry.” My words are muffled through tears, my face pressed against the side of his face, inhaling his clean scent mixed with sweat.
“You’re sorry? You have nothing to be sorry for, Hae. Nothing.”
“I’m just sorry you have to deal with this, with me and all my baggage.”
“Stop, don’t even say that.”
He reaches his hand up, running it over my hair. It’s soothing, helping ease the flood of emotions rushing through me.