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What did I just agree to? And why did I do it?

Too bad I don’t have any answers. Too damn bad.

9

Bryant

I stand there for a minute after Maggie leaves, unable to believe what’s going on. I stare at the door that Maggie disappeared behind and I’m feeling a mixture of shock, happiness and for the first time in years… hope.

Finally, I move into the bedroom and throw on my clothes, feeling this nervous anticipation the likes of which I haven’t felt in years. Then, I putter around the house getting things ready for this evening. I run to town to get a few things that I know will make Maggie happy and make sure my kitchen is completely stocked. If Maggie and I decide not to come up for air the next two weeks, I’m good with us not leaving the house.

I have my hopes up, I know. Maggie seemed reluctant, but there was something there in her eyes that tells me that she wants this. She’s scared, but she wants this.

At least that’s what I’m convincing myself of.

I stare up at the clock, feeling at loose ends. Maggie should be here in a little while with our son. She called and said she’d get Terry and head my way. She asked if I’d rather her pick up dinner instead of having to cook. We decided on a pizza. I’ll make pasta for Maggie tomorrow.

For a minute, I let myself imagine that this is my life. Home, my wife calling when she gets off work… Christ, I have no idea how things got so fucked up and even less of an idea how it came to the point that I’m getting my ex-mother-in-law to help me.

On that note, I pick up the phone and reluctantly dial the number of my partner in crime. Of all the scenarios I’ve pictured over the years when it came to getting Maggie back, I never once dreamed of this one.

“Hello?”

I take a breath as Ida Sue answers her phone.

“It’s done,” I mumble, wondering how pissed Maggie’s going to be when she finds everything out.

“She agreed to it?” Ida Sue almost screeches in my ear.

“Yeah, probably too easily. I thought she was going to tell me to go fuck myself—”

“Language, Red.”

“Red?”

“It’s time you have a family name.”

“Ida Sue, you get I hate that name, right?”

“Red, you get that I hate the fact my girl is miserable and my grandson misses having his mommy and daddy living in one house? Besides, your hair has a red tint.”

“Don’t talk to me. It’s your daughter, and my hair is not red.”

“Yeah, whatever, and I’m not claiming Maggie today. So, technically, she’s your wife.”

“Unfortunately, that’s not true,” I sigh, leaning back on the couch, my gaze going up to stare at the clock.

“That’s your own damn fault, boy. You should have thrown my girl over your shoulder years ago and made her see sense.”

“If you think me doing that would have done any good then, you underestimate just how much your daughter is like you, Ida Sue.”

I smile because it’s almost possible to hear her scowl through the phone.

“What exactly are you saying, Red Matthews?” she snaps.

And I snort, my lips moving into a small smile while I shake my head.

“Just that there’s a reason you’re not wearing Jansen’s ring on your finger, Ida Sue.”

“The Good Lord frowns upon smart-asses, son,” she snaps. “Just see to it that you stick to the plan, you hear?”

“Yes, ma’am, I hear.”

“Good.”

She hangs up before I can say anything else, not that I’d know what to say anyhow. I hope Ida Sue is right and I’m doing the right thing here. I’m worried that I’m fucking everything up worse once Maggie finds out exactly what we’re doing….

Fuck.

I don’t even want to think about that. Ida Sue is right, however, in her own colorful way. I do have to do something. Things with Maggie aren’t getting any better. In fact, I think she’s grown so used to the way things are that she’s come to accept this as normal. I can’t let that happen.

I love Maggie.

I want her forever, not as some kind of weekend fuck. Hell, lately I’m not even getting her on weekends, more like once or twice a month and I can’t keep living like this. I don’t understand her beautiful mind. I do know I should have seen that our marriage was falling apart long before I did. I was too wrapped up in my own pain to see she wasn’t coping and falling deeper and deeper into the blackness. That’s not an excuse. It’s just the sorry truth. I let her down when she needed me the most, and in the years since, I can’t seem to prove to her that she can have faith in me.

In us.

I don’t know if this is going to work, and I sure as hell don’t want to move to Washington…but there is one thing about it.

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