CHAPTER ONE
I’m about to get played.
Toyed with.
But I don’t know it yet.
I have no clue my life is about to change. In a very big way.
But isn’t that how it always goes?
The extraordinary wrapped up in the ordinary. You never see it coming.
I wipe down the counter, scrubbing at a stubborn spot of dried egg while rocking along to AC/DC. The kitchen smells like bacon and coffee, comforting despite the huge pile of dishes in the sink. Just as the song is about to get good, my headphones cut out mid-headbang.
The battery light blinks red, mocking me. In theheadphones' defence, they did warn me ten minutes ago that the battery was low.
I toss the scrub sponge into the sink and head toward the office where my charger lives. As I near closer, Reeves’s voice drifts into the hallway, low and tense.
"I'll get it," he says, his tone sharper than usual. "No, I'm not full of shit this time. I'm good for it."
I slow my steps, hovering outside the door.
"No... don't... I promise I'll get it to you by tomorrow. Later.”
The sound of something crashing against the wall startles me. My stomach tightens as I push the door slowly open and find Reeves hunched over the desk, head cradled in his large hands.
"What… was that about?" I ask tentatively.
He startles, then forces a smile. "Just Greg asking about an advance. Baby coming and all."
I cross my arms. "We can't afford advances. We just let Lucy go, and I liked her."
“I know… it sucks.”
“You threw your phone again… I see. You’re lucky it’s still in one piece.”
He shakes his head as he stands to go get it. “I know.”
The phone rings again. Reeves snatches it up. "Yeah," he barks into it. "I told you I'd call you tomorrow."His face darkens. "I know... I fucking know." He slams the phone down on his desk. I’ve seen my husband mad before, but this one is intense. And I have no clue what it’s all about.
A small gasp draws our attention to the doorway. Liam stands there, eyes wide, his little hands covering his mouth.
Reeves’s expression instantly softens. He lunges towards him, and drops to his knees. "Hey buddy, I'm sorry." He wraps our son in a hug. "I'm sorry you saw that. Daddy was just being cranky.”
Liam stands there, confused again. He’s seen this scene before, but he never seems to get used to it. My heart breaks a little every time.
"Wait right here," Reeves says, jumping up. "I have something special for you."
He disappears down to the basement, the floorboards creaking beneath his heavy steps. I hear rustling, a thud, and some muffled cursing.
All the while, Liam and I are just standing in the office, staring at each other with curious eyes, both of us a little excited. Every time I look at him, already four years old, I see his dad in those big, beautiful eyes of his.
Reeves returns moments later, slightly out of breath. In his hands is a glossy model car, still sealed in its plastic packaging—one of those collector's items that cost way more than we can afford right now. The pricetag is still visible, though he tries to subtly peel it off with his thumbnail as he inches closer.
Liam takes it hesitantly, his small fingers wrapping around the edges of the box. His big brown eyes look more confused than excited as he examines the unfamiliar toy. I watch his delicate face scrunch up slightly as he turns the package over, trying to understand why this is supposed to make everything better.
I want to press my husband—he's been acting weird for weeks—but what's the point? Between bartending at the pool hall since Lucy left, taking care of Liam, and managing the house while Reeves is off doing who-knows-what, I just don't have the energy.
