Page 104 of We Were Something
My fists flex at my sides, but I don’t say anything. Warren shakes his head and tucks his hands into his pockets.
“No. Kids don’t know how to prioritize things like that. They’re selfish, and young. Focused on having fun,” he continues. “Which is what theyshouldbe. I get it, man—your wife cheated, so you found a way to pass the time. But now it’s time to man up and focus on your family, not on some young tail you’re having fun with.”
Not only do I want to clock Warren in his face, I also want to tell him he’s wrong. Because Paige isexactlythe kind of girl to be here for me, for my mom. To drop her entire life for the people she loves, to sacrifice her own happiness for mine.
But I stay silent as my mind crawls all over that sudden realization, picking it apart, bit by bit, and coming to a shockingly clear conclusion.
“You see?” Greg interjects, taking my stunned expression as confirmation that Warren is right. “And Jen needs you, you know? She’s gonna be giving birth here in just a few weeks, and she’ll need somebody to lean on. You could be here for her, and she’d be there for you and your mom, too.”
I blink a few times, my mind ignoring Greg’s comments and instead focusing heavily on what Warren said.
Sheis24. Sheisyoung. And sheshouldhave her entire life stretching out in front of her. She doesn’t need to be saddled with a guy who has no idea what his life is going to look like in the coming months.
Realistically, I’m going to have to make some major changes to prioritize my mother. There’s no way she’s coming out of this traumatic brain injury unscathed. She’ll likely need physical therapy, like Warren said, and the realities of other potential issues are still very real. On top of that, I have my work at the hospital, the thing I’ve dedicated my entire life to.
My life is this…structured, rigid calendar of responsibilities. And I like it that way.
But Paige shouldn’t be saddled with that burden. Shouldn’t be faced with fixed schedules and long-term responsibilities.
She should be free to enjoy her life, enjoy being young and going out dancing with her friends and being free to blow wherever the wind takes her, not going to bed next to an empty space because I’m working late at the hospital or facing the responsibilities of taking care of my mother.
My mind flashes back to the way she was prepared to give me up because she thought I would be happier with Jen, thought my life would be more fulfilled with my ex and a baby. How could I not also seriously consider howherlife might be more fulfilled?
And if I think about it truthfully, honestlyshewould be better off without me and the weight of everything complicated and burdensome I would bring into her simple, carefree existence.
I mean, that’s the life she wants to live, right? The life she’sbeenliving? And after an earth-shattering surgery and facing cancer, shedeservesto be free. To have fun. To do whatever her young heart wants.
Instead of responding to either of the two men who are just staring at me as I have a life-altering realization, I head into the house, hoping to find a quiet place to call Paige. To hear her voice so I can shove off these thoughts that feel like they’re invading my mind one by one.
But when I call her, it goes straight to voicemail. I allow myself to listen to her adorable voice on the other end of the line but hang up without leaving a message.
Because I know what I have to say will need to be said in person.
For the second time, my head and my gut are not on the same page about what to do next.
And like the coward who wasn’t ever willing to put divorce on the table when it would have been the kind thing to do for Jen—release her from me when I couldn’t give her what I knew would truly make her happy—I put off heading back to the hospital to talk to Paige.
Instead, I stalk through the house and into the kitchen, in search of something better, and more hard-hitting, than this shitty beer.
I end up staying longer than I planned to, hanging out with Greg and Warren outside, the bottle of whiskey I found in the kitchen giving each of us a few drinks that are enough to keep us warm in the dipping temperatures of autumn.
It isn’t until I realize the sun is setting that I think through the fact that I’ve left Paige alone to handle things at the hospital with my mom. So I try to call her again, cursing when it goes to voicemail.
Again.
“Almost everyone is gone,” Malory says, popping outside to give us an update. “You guys wanna stop hiding out here?”
The three of us grudgingly follow her back in, where we find Jen, Malory, Ebony, and a few of Jen’s other girlfriends seated in the large sitting room with a fire going in the corner.
Even though the familiarity of this group of people should make me want to take a seat and catch up, all I can think about is the fact that I should get back to the hospital.
“I might head out,” I say, giving an awkward wave to the group.
I’ve stuck around far too long, avoiding the conversation I know I need to have with Paige.
“You’re not safe to drive tonight,” Jen says, crossing over to me and resting her hand on my arm. “The last thing we need is any more problems on the road.”
I grit my teeth, unable to believe she’s speaking about the accident with such a congenial tone, as if she’s referring to someone getting a flat tire instead of someone dying and leaving his passenger in a coma.
