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“Just hear me out, please?”
I let out a frustrated sigh, nodding for him to go ahead.
“I was talking to Cassandra, and I know you will think this is beyond far-fetched, but I think she has a thing for Presley.”
His words catch my attention like a gun pointing straight into my temple.
“You know, I kind of pried, asked Cassandra why they had a fall-out since she always skated over the topic, and Presley never really understood why either…” he pauses, watching me until my eyes widen prompting him to continue, “Cassandra kinda had a thing for Presley in college, though Presley never knew that. She was dating some guy, Ken or Kyle… whatever. And Cassandra admitted to me that she was jealous but laughed it off.”
“So, she had a crush on her. I don’t blame her,” I retort, showing no emotion yet the voices in my head are clawing their way to front row and center, demanding I fucking listen because my instinct has been right all along
“Yeah, but Presley has changed. When I’m with them, Cassandra is pushing Presley to make decisions which go against you. She’s a narcissist, almost trying to push you out of the picture…”
“What are you trying to say?”
“I’m warning you. When it comes to matters of the heart, for some reason, Presley is only listening to her.”
I hear every word he says, tapping my fingers against the table with an idea to end this madness. If for one second someone thinks they can get between us, they are very fucking wrong. The more his words resonate, the more my anger swells like a tide.
“So, what you’re saying is we need to eliminate the instigator immediately, so to speak?”
Clint nods. “You eliminate the instigator, problem solved. Your wife will come running back to you, back to all her friends. It’ll be as if this never happened.”
I grab my phone and dial Charlie’s number.
“Hello, Haden,” she answers.
“I need you in the office. Are you free now?”
“Sure, I can be there in say twenty minutes. Is everything okay?”
“It will be.”
All I need is Charlie to go through the legalities of the dismissal and John to clear the financials.
And soon, the instigator will be out of my life, and my wife will be back in my arms.
For good.
Sixteen
Presley
I am grateful Haden left for work early, leaving me alone without our usual fight.
Our morning bickering always involves Masen. We disagree, only to agree moments later, and by the time we leave for work, we have usually forgotten about it and end the morning with a goodbye kiss.
But things have changed between us.
Our pointless quarrels have now turned into full-blown arguments. Our words have become nastier. We both take a simple argument, such as who picks up Masen, into something far greater. I find myself constantly irritated by his selfish behavior, questioning why I have allowed him to act this way for such a long time.
Haden distances himself from me, limiting our interaction to the bare minimum. I watch him slowly pull away, unlike his usual overbearing self. We barely sleep in the same bed, using Masen as an excuse. He doesn’t dare touch me nor even make any sexual innuendos. I thought it would pain me to see him this way, but all I feel is numb.
It has been another late night, packing box after box after we accepted an offer on the house. Time is of the essence, sorting through our belongings, trying to discard what we no longer need and packing what we are taking to the new place.
Somewhere, after midnight, I come across our wedding album. Sitting inside our spare bedroom, I open the album slowly to a photograph of Haden and me. Our faces are beaming, joyous smiles and eyes stare at each other with a loving gaze. Every emotion I felt at that moment comes crashing back like a giant wave of nostalgia—the way he ran his thumb across my bottom lip, promising to always protect our family, to love us unconditionally.
His vows replay inside my head, the voice so loud and clear it’s as if he is whispering it to me.
