Page 10 of The Breakup

“And like her friend criticized my extensions, but not everyone has thousands of dollars to drop on their hair like they all do.”

I drained the rest of my whiskey and dropped money on the table to cover it. I stood up.

“Where are you going?” she asked, clearly startled. “I haven’t even ordered yet.”

I needed to get away from her or my head was going to explode. “Buy yourself a sandwich. I don’t see what we have to talk about. You’ll be hearing from the court about child support.”

Ali looked astonished. “That’s it? You can’t even have a friendly conversation with me?”

“You’re fucking delusional,” I said before I could stop myself. “No one wants to be friends with you. You didn’t go to Europe for the summer and come back. You abandoned our baby.” I took a deep breath, stopping myself from really letting loose with a rant. “Stay away from me, Ali. For real. Anything you need to say to me can go through the lawyers.”

“You’re a dick,” she seethed. “How dare you talk to me like that?”

That just made me snort and shake my head. It must be nice to walk around so blindly confident in your own delusional lies.

I was walking away when she said, “I am going to get Cain back. Just so you know.”

That was the most ridiculous thing I’d ever heard. Cain would slit his throat before he took Ali back. He was also going to be en route to rehab soon, but I wasn’t about to share that information with her. “Good luck with that,” I said. “You’ll need it.”

Craving fresh air, I decided to walk to my mom’s house. I wanted to see my son. Reassure myself that Ali hadn’t somehow abducted him for leverage. I knew that was completely irrational, but that little guy was just so amazing. He was the only reason I had for working hard toward my goal of owning a bar and financial freedom. When I looked at that kid, and he smiled, I didn’t regret anything about Ali and me, no matter how fucked up it was.

The house I had grown up in wasn’t exactly a dump, it was just unkempt on the exterior. The interior never changed. It was dated and drab and gloomy. As a kid, I had always been self-conscious about being the family with the dad in jail and too many kids. None of my friends had four siblings like I did and a mother who cleaned houses. Only my oldest brother, Camden, had felt the way I did. Cain, Cord—my second-oldest brother—and my sister, Charlie, hadn’t given a shit what people thought, and I had envied that.

Still did. I still felt the urge to punch anyone who looked down on me.

Or fuck them. Like Bella Bigelow.

The intriguing uptight Bella. I was curious to see what she wanted. More than I should be.

Strolling up the driveway to my mom’s house, I realized I should probably cut the grass for her. It was getting high, and that was the least I could do. She had sacrificed a lot of her time to care for Camp and had never judged me for the circumstances of his conception.

Then again, she wouldn’t. She had her own demons in her past—secrets that only I knew and none of my siblings had any clue about. About her and my father.

I opened the kitchen door and called, “Hey, anybody home?”

Charlie was sitting at the kitchen table, eating a bowl of cereal. “Hey, what’s up?”

She clearly had just rolled out of bed, her hair looking crazy, dressed in a baggy T-shirt and pajama pants. Given that she worked nights, that wasn’t surprising, yet it was still late afternoon. Kind of late even for her, but it was Saturday. Friday night must have been a late one. “Where’s Mom and Camp?”

“Camp is napping. Mom is driving Cain to Boston.”

“Already?” I asked, surprised. It had just been that morning that Cain had said he wanted to go to rehab. Right after he and I were bailed out of jail for fighting the night before. “I thought it would be next week or something.” For some reason, it bothered me that I hadn’t been able to say goodbye to him. We had cleared the air a little bit that morning, but it didn’t feel like it was enough. Then again, it would probably never be enough. There was some shit you couldn’t ever totally put behind you. And that was on me.

“There’s no reason to wait. He’s not in a good place, you know that.” She slurped cereal off her spoon. “He was here last week loaded and polished off one of Mom’s boxes of wine. He’s at the point where he can’t even control it.”

“What about Sophie?” I asked, opening the fridge, hoping to score a soda.

“Who?”

Mom’s fridge was damn near empty. “His girlfriend.” I slammed the door shut.

“Oh. That rich girl? I don’t know. I thought she was just a hookup. Summer lovin’.” Charlie ran a hand through her dark hair. “Can you stay here with Camp tonight? I have to work and Mom is not going to be home until tomorrow. I was just going to call you.”

I didn’t hesitate. “Sure. Fortunately, I have tonight off.” I was supposed to be meeting Bella, but she could either come here or it would have to be another night. “I’m going to order a pizza. I’m starving.”

First I wanted to peek in on Camp though. I went down the hall to my old bedroom and carefully opened the door. Nothing had changed in here either. It was still the same obnoxious bold blue, now scuffed with wear. The bunk beds Cain and I had shared were still in there, Camp’s crib shoved into a corner. The shelves and dresser were piled with both our ancient abandoned possessions and Camp’s toys. I really needed to get in here and clean some of this shit out. Part of me had been in a holding pattern, thinking something was going to change and I could have Camp in my apartment, maybe that I’d even somehow magically end up with a girlfriend.

But this was reality, and none of this was going to change. Ali was a bitch and I was never going to end up with a nice girl because I was drawn to women that I couldn’t have, because that was easier than attempting and failing at a relationship. So I needed to make the situation better for my son. Crossing the room as quietly as possible, I stared down into the crib at Camp. He was wearing shorts and a T-shirt, his arms thrown up on either side of his head. In his sleep his cheeks had grown pink, his blond hair damp. His breathing was even and reassuring. God, I loved this little guy. I didn’t deserve him, but I did love him.

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