AllFreeNovel
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MS: Knowledge is a weapon. You can be proactive. Come up with a story now. That’s one thing Lila is good at, at least.
MS: This is the best ending for this story. In time, you’ll see. You’re free now.
Free. Right. That was exactly what he was. He was free to not be married, though he liked it. He was free to not be tied to Axl and Chloe, though he ached for it with a fierceness that made no sense.
He’d wanted to keep the marriage going for two reasons—to save his shaky rep and because he didn’t believe in divorce. In no time, he’d stopped thinking about his rep and started thinking about the man he should be. One worthy of having a kid like Axl and a sweet, smart, beautiful wife.
Drinking wasn’t a part of his life anymore. Sleeping around absolutely wasn’t. His idea of trashing a place now meant building a fort of boxes with his son. In the process of becoming a decent man on paper, he’d become one in reality too.
And now he was supposed to be glad he was free. Christ.
“Maybe I can drive out to Encino tomorrow,” Michael said, popping the top on his cup of takeout coffee. “See if Mal’s still living in the last address I had for him. I don’t want Ry to get any more hurt because of all this.”
“Don’t worry about me.” Ry leaned across the back of the couch and jabbed a knuckle into Michael’s back. “Just worry about your situation.”
Michael shot his best friend a glance over his shoulder. He’d confided in Ry that morning after about the twenty-third time Michael had fumbled the bridge to “Exile” in spite of the fact he’d nailed it flawlessly for months. So of course Ry had to blab in front of Lila.
Why not? His life already sucked.
Lila crossed her legs and set aside her iPad. “You spoke to your father, I’m assuming.” She kept her voice low, and her blue eyes were surprisingly gentle.
Michael was so used to anything involving Chloe bringing out Lila’s claws that he was immediately on guard. “Yeah, so?”
“I didn’t tell him anything.”
Michael stared into the little hole on top of his cup. He needed a refill. His coffee had gone cold.
No, what he needed was a real drink. Why the hell was he being so careful with everything if he was just going to lose it anyway?
Just tell her. Don’t let her find out from someone else. You don’t know that she’ll leave.
He didn’t. They were making progress. The other day they hadn’t said “I love you” but they’d gotten close. At least he had. Then the thing had happened with his father, and he’d locked down his emotions and shut her out. Even knowing he was doing it hadn’t been enough to cause him to stop.
That morning, she’d mentioned maybe coming to rehearsal again with Axl. She’d come on Monday, and he’d been so on guard after his father’s phone call that he’d scarcely been able to get through practice. Somewhere around the fourth unsuccessful run-through of “In Your Arms”—thanks to Michael bungling his part each time—Chloe had finally made some excuse and escaped with the baby.
She was no better than Michael. She blamed herself every time stuff went wrong with them. Just like he did.
But cripes, he wasn’t going to lie to himself. If she wasn’t married to him, she definitely wouldn’t stay in his apartment. He knew that without a doubt. She’d tell him it was best if she found her own place, and she’d get a job, and both of those things would be great for her if they made her happy. But he had a sneaking suspicion if she didn’t have to stay around him, she wouldn’t. She’d go back to her own life, and the distance would grow between them until she convinced herself they’d been some flash in the pan based on necessity.
And he would lose the family he’d only just begun to feel like he had a chance to have.
It wasn’t like he didn’t know all the Oprah advice. His mother was big on all that BS.
Just let people go. If they don’t come back, they weren’t yours to begin with.
Stuff that sounded just awesome on paper but not nearly as great if it meant you’d end up fucking alone.
He’d practiced that with Mal. How long had he let him do his own thing and let him be? Felt like frigging forever. Sure, Mal had eventually shown up again when he needed something. He’d left again just as quickly.
Now his older brother might as well be in the witness protection program. And Chloe would saw off her own tongue before she came to him for help if they didn’t have those signatures binding them together. Even with them, she’d barely managed it.
So what the hell was he supposed to say to his stepmother? Yes, he’d talked to his father, and yes, he was denial, and no, he didn’t want her advice.
As the silence b
etween him and Lila extended, Ryan cleared his throat. “Okay, so that’s my cue to leave. I’m going to grab a couple drinks from that café down the street. Need the walk to clear my head. You guys need anything?”
“Whisky would be good,” Michael muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.
