Page 143 of Over Time Advantage

I know he knows about the affair, so I don’t understand why he would say that.

As if reading my mind, he continues, “Of course I know about Schumaker. That fucking piece of shit. Let me tell you about that guy. He was a college buddy of mine. You know the type. Exciting, crazy, always with a different woman. Brings out the fun in more reserved guys like you and me. The kind of guy you know in the back of your mind is bad news, but he adds some flavor to an otherwise vanilla life. Or at least that’s how we used to view it.”

I nod. I know the type.

He sighs. “He always had a thing for Fallon. She’s gorgeous and she was mine—a deadly combination. He was constantly flirting with her, but that was David. I never gave it a second thought because I thought it was harmless and, even if he meant it, she wasn’t interested in him at all. She didn’t even like spending time with him, let alone indulging his advances.” He sips his whiskey. “Our marriage was already on shaky ground. We both knew it was over, but neither of us was willing to pull the plug. I was a shitty husband. I was never home, never helped with Harper, only cared about my career, and never put a moment of thought into her needs. She had mentioned theater tickets to me for a specific night, and I put it on my calendar. We were planning on dinner and the show.” He takes another sip of his drink. “She was excited for the rare night out together, just the two of us. It had been a long time. She got a sitter, bought a new dress, and had her hair done. Being the asshole I was, I took a last-minute dinner meeting with a potential client. At some point in the meeting, my alarm went off, telling me it was the time I was supposed to be across town picking up my wife. I had forgotten, so I quickly shot her a one-line text to cancel. That’s it. What kind of man does that?”

I mumble, “A prick.”

He nods. “Agreed. Here’s what happened that night. She was embarrassed to tell the sitter I bailed, so she left our apartment and went to a local bar where she planned to eat and drink alone because she was married to a dickhead. And guess who happened to be there riding in on his white horse?”

“Schumaker?” I surmise.

“Correct. He plied her with drink after drink for hours, filling her head with all kinds of shit about how she deserved better than me. That she’s the most beautiful woman in the world. She deserved a man who realized that. Who valued her. One who cared about her needs and prioritized her. Blah blah blah. Even bordering on unconscious, she tried to push him away until she lost the ability to do so. The sleazeball pulled her into the alley next to the bar, and they had sex against the brick wall. He didn’t even help her get home afterward.”

My eyes briefly close at the horrific picture he’s painted. “He…he forced himself on her?”

Tanner stares down into his whiskey. “I personally believe it qualified as that under the law, but Fallon refused to see it that way. She said even though she would never in a million years go near that asshole sober, on some level, she did it to get back at me for hurting her so badly. She came home several hours later. I was in bed reviewing a contract. I didn’t even notice the messy hair, runny makeup, or torn dress because I cared more about the football-playing client whose contract I was reviewing than the fact that my wife was just taken advantage of. She sat and cried in the shower for two hours while I did nothing. I thought she was mad about the broken date, and I didn’t want to deal with the drama. She came out at some point with her skin red and irritated. I think she scrubbed off two layers of it. It took some time for her to sober up enough to tell me what happened, but she did through her sobs. Right away. She was disgusted with herself, and the guilt and shame were too much for her to bear.”

“You should have killed him,” I grit out.

He nods. “I almost did. I put him in the hospital for two weeks. He’s got six fake teeth, a new nose, and a cheek implant thanks to me. He called the police to file a report. Fallon threatened to press charges against him for sexual assault just to get him to drop all charges against me. She sold her fucking dignity to save my career and my freedom. She sold her dignity so her soon-to-be ex-husband wouldn’t go to jail.” He leans forward with his elbows on his knees. “Does that sound like a horrible woman to you, Jeffries?”

I shamefully look down as I shake my head and whisper, “No.”

“I think deep down you know what kind of person Fallon is. You fell in love with her. Don’t you think you owed her the benefit of a conversation without jumping to conclusions?”

My eyes fill with tears as I nod and whisper, “Yes.”

“Do you comprehend how lucky you are to have the love of a woman like her? I didn’t appreciate it until it was too late.”

“You and I both know you still have it,” I bite back.

His jaw clenches. “I had it. Had, as in past tense. I took it for granted. I suggest you not do the same.” He then downs the rest of his glass before placing it—slamming it—on the table and standing. “She’s dying inside without you. She’s so far from okay that my nine-year-old daughter is stressed out because she feels her mother slipping away. Get your shit together. Don’t be so fucking insecure. You’re going to see her at the wedding this weekend. Talk to her. Get on your fucking knees and beg her to take your pathetic ass back while you promise to never doubt her again because, let’s be honest, she’s way too fucking good for you. She’s way out of your league just like she was for me. You should be thanking the universe that a woman like her is madly in love with you and only you.” He points at me with fire in his eyes. “And if you ever—I mean ever—raise your voice like that in front of my kid again, you’ll meet the same fate as Schumaker. Or worse,” he threatens.

He grabs his bottle of whiskey and makes his way out the front door, leaving me with a stomach full of regret, a spinning head, and a broken heart.

TWENTY-NINE

JETT

“Yo mama's like a Christmas tree—everyone puts their balls all over her,” Daylen’s father loudly announces at the small restaurant in which we’re having the rehearsal dinner.

Here’s what I’ve learned about Daylen and his father, Hank. They’re the same fucking person. Hank is thirty years older and has a big belly, but they’re otherwise the same. They’re loud and love to be the center of attention. They’re also giant teddy bears with magnetic personalities and permanent smiles plastered to their faces.

I hope Kennedy likes him because I can see her future in Hank. Though I think she does because she and Hank seem close. Apparently he’s known about the pregnancy since the summer. I was the only one in the dark. He’s as excited as a malnourished tick at a nudist colony. He keeps touching her stomach and singing to it. He’s talking about staying with them for a few weeks when the baby comes. I’ve never seen anyone so excited about their son accidentally impregnating someone he didn’t even like at the time. I’m still coming to terms with their relationship, though I’ll admit Daylen tends to every single one of Kennedy’s needs. He coddles her. Not only does it shock me to see him like this, but I can’t believe how much she relishes it.

Even though Kennedy and Daylen are already legally married, they’re hosting a small ceremony and reception tomorrow. We played on Thursday night this week, so we don’t have a game this weekend. That’s why they chose it.

Tonight is just the immediate family, meaning the annoyingly happy couple, me, Pierce, Hank, his much younger wife, Ashleigh, and Daylen’s sister, Jagger. Jagger is a year younger than Pierce, who seems smitten. I learned they met at Daylen’s house this summer and seemingly struck up a friendship. I’ve never seen Pierce flirt the way he does with her. I get the appeal—she’s a pretty girl with wild blonde, curly hair—but the kid has no chill.

Who am I to pass judgment on dating? I’m a failure in that regard.

Apparently, yo mama jokes are a family tradition between Daylen and Hank, where they trade barbs until the other laughs, something they started after Daylen lost his mom as a way to cheer each other up. They’ve been at it for ten minutes with neither of them cracking a smile, even though some of the jokes are a little funny. I’ve never seen Kennedy smile as much as she is tonight. She’s got this inner glow I’m not sure I’ve ever seen in my daughter. It’s like the weight she’s always carried no longer exists. She’s very obviously excited for their future.

Daylen stares at his father. “Yo mama is like a gas station—you pay, she pumps.”

Everyone else at the table laughs, but Hank doesn’t so much as flinch. He licks his lips. “Yo mama is so stupid—she got fired from a blow job.”