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“Not much, but I’m sure you know your son well. He hasn’t said anything derogatory about Clint to me.”
“Of course, Chad wouldn’t say anything bad,” Alex muttered, glancing at Maggie. “Chad is too nice to admit the truth.” I stared at Alex, waiting for more. He was bright red and clenching his fists, a side of Chad’s father I hadn’t expected to see either. “I’ll tell you what Clint did, Cole. He just up and left Chad. Only leaving a shitty note for my boy. Nothing else!” Alex hissed. “Coward.”
“Alex!” Maggie hushed, waving her hand at him to quiet down.
“Well, he did, honey. Chad did not deserve that treatment after what he did for that man,” Alex stated. “I like Clint well enough, but that was not right, and you know it. He damn near broke our boy.”
To say I was surprised by Alex’s outburst would be a fair statement. Surprised that there was more to the Clint and Chad story than I’d been told, and surprised that perhaps Chad wasn’t as far removed from their history as I had hoped.
Maggie pinched her lips, shaking her head. “Chad had a tough time, Cole. The breakup hurt him a lot,” she explained. “Can you imagine? You know, the surprise when you love someone so much, and then they up and do something like that?”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t know anything about this.”
My heart ached for Chad. But honestly, my heart ached for me. I’d had almost three years to heal from the betrayal of Alan leaving me. I began to sense that Chad needed more time.
I stood and gazed at a sleeping beauty. Maybe a kiss from someone new wouldn’t wake him up, after all.
“I think it’s best that I leave.”
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE: Chad
My eyes popped open, and I immediately felt soreness in my hands and wrists. The room was quiet and dark, with a slit of light along the edge of the blinds clueing me into the fact that artificial light from the patio was illuminating the night into what I now realized was my childhood bedroom.
I rubbed my aching hands, noticing I couldn’t bend two of the fingers on the right one, the dominant hand. My thoughts were jumbled as I struggled to focus on where I was. Closing my eyes again, I suddenly recited my social security number in my head to convince myself that I wasn’t dreaming. A weird trick I used when I thought I was losing my mind.
After sitting up in bed, my eyes made out the shapes of the dresser and the outlines of doors. One to a closet, one to a bathroom, and one slightly ajar that led to the hallway. Two chairs from the dining room, one on each side of the bed, sat empty. People, most likely my folks, had been sitting in them.
A memory flashed through my brain and sent panic directly to my chest. Clint.
“Oh shit,” I whispered, holding my hands up and despite the darkened room, discovering the results of my rage. Both hands, particularly the right one, were visibly swollen.
One by one, like pictures in a photo album, images of me losing control raced through my conscious mind. Where was he? I felt my breathing quicken instantly, so I focused on remaining calm. Deep breaths, Chad, I thought.
A cell phone lay face down on the nightstand next to me. Reaching for it, assuming it was mine, I picked it up and turned the face of it over, tapping gently to illuminate the screen. 2:12 A.M. A screensaver image of Cole lounging on his deck stared back at me. No missed calls. No texts. Nothing concerning what I’d done came to the rescue of my regret. I had absolutely lost my proverbial shit, and now here I lay wondering how to pick up the pieces.
With sudden clarity, I could visualize Clint sitting across from me and talking. I’d been surprised to see him, to find myself in that situation after so many months of silence from him. I remember wondering how he could just show up like that and act like the situation would be normal after what he’d done to us.
His words were hanging in the air as I tried to focus on what he’d first said about wanting me to take him back. I’m not sure I’d heard a single thing after. “We’ll finish our house in Beaufort.” I’d heard that. He’d said that. “You’ll bring the food truck there.” He’d said that too. I think those statements hit my last nerve directly on the bullseye. Anything said after that was jumbled in my brain.
The entire scene unfolded like a rerun in my mind as I sat in the dark. One I didn’t particularly want to watch. I tremored violently as the rest of the act spread like a wildfire in a hurricane. I’d jumped across the table and… and… Tears leapt from my eyes when I replayed the film footage in my head.
“Oh, God!” I gasped, panting at the reality of my behavior.
Yelling. Screaming. Fists. Bodie. Rat. A driveway. Cole. The memories ended there.
“Oh, no,” I whispered, wrapping my arms around myself. “Oh, please no.”
* * *
“Chad?” a voice spoke. I waited and listened. “Chad, honey. Are you awake?”
I was awake. I didn’t want to be just yet, but I was, in fact, awake. Time to face the music.
“Hi, Mom,” I whispered, opening my eyes.
“You okay, honey?” she asked, sitting in a chair near the bed.
“I think so,” I replied.
