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And I let him, because being alone fucking sucked.
Dexter avoided me mostly, and the few times I’d spoken to him or seen him at the office, his anger was apparent, even if he tried to contain it.
And given his past experience with marriage and kids, I understood where it came from, and I couldn’t blame him.
So I weathered his glares and radio silence at face value of what they were; exactly what I deserved.
Tonight was one of those nights that Reid had joined me, hours ago, and sat silently on the couch as he poured himself drink after drink, refilling mine as he went.
Misery did love company after all.
The front door to the suite opened up, banging loudly off the wall as lights turned on through the space, blinding both the bleary-eyed Reid and myself.
“What the fuck man?” Reid swore, staring up at where Dexter stood with his hands in his pockets as he looked at us.
“You two are pathetic, you know that?” Dexter said angrily, nearly sneering at us as he walked over to my bourbon collection and picked up the only remaining bottle of it. He held it in his hand for a moment, reading the label before pursing his lips and hauling back and chucking it against the wall on the other side of the room.
“Jesus fuck.” Reid snapped, ducking as liquor and glass rained down on him where he sat on the couch.
I didn’t flinch though, and I didn’t lash out at my friend. I could order more bourbon with the press of a button on the hotel phone, after all.
Dexter turned towards me and pointed his finger at me as anger vibrated off of him. “Do you really have nothing to say for yourself?”
I just stared at him, feeling the alcohol burning off and lifting the haze of numbness the longer I sat in his presence.
He was such a fucking buzz kill when he wanted to be.
He scoffed and turned away from me, shaking his head and running his hand through his hair. “Do you have any idea how I’ve spent my day, Mr. Billionaire washout?” He asked. “Besides putting out fires for you, and saving your career and reputation that you’ve left in the hands of a man who can’t sober up any longer than you can.” He said, throwing a hand towards Reid who at least had the decency to look guilty, I couldn’t even manage that right now. “No? No guesses even?” He mocked.
“Why don’t you tell me?” I finally said, getting my tongue to unstick itself from the roof of my mouth and form a coherent sentence for the man that was in reality keeping my business afloat.
“I’ll tell you.” He said, shaking his head at me, “I’ll fucking tell you.” He bit out. “I spent my fucking day taking care of your wife, because God knows you haven’t cared to see to her well being while you’ve drank yourself stupid. And she’s so grief stricken that she can’t see to it herself!” He yelled.
The mention of Cora pulled me out of the last bit of haze, and I leaned forward on my knees. “What do you mean?”
He clenched his teeth and shook his head angrily. “She’s been sick, morning sickness has kicked her ass. Hard. She’s a fucking bag of skin and bones and I wouldn’t have known that had I not broken into her apartment and forced her to let me help her! Because you’ve gone and fucked her up in the head so badly, she won’t let any of us be near her!”
I stood up, pitching forward and barely catching myself before falling face first into the carpet. “Sick?” I tried to wrap my head around it.
“Yes Mav, fucking puking her brains out every time she tries to eat, sick. You know, from that baby you insisted on putting inside of her, even after she told you she wanted to wait to protect herself. But you just couldn’t wrap your fucking dick up and think about anyone else besides yourself, could you?” He roared, “Nope, Maverick Jones, Mr. Entitled forced the situation on her and then walked the fuck out, leaving her to deal with the consequences like some dead-beat piece of shit.”
He laid into me hard, and I knew I deserved it. But my brain was short circuiting as I imagined Cora suffering without me there to help her. “Dex.” Reid said, trying to calm him down, but Dex brushed him off.
“Don’t you even care if your child is healthy or not? If it’s growing at the right rate or showing any signs of malformations or deformities? Don’t you care about any of that shit?” He roared. “You know what? I’d give anything to have my son back and you’re sitting here pissing away your own chance at fatherhood with a damn good woman who has been so desolate, she wouldn’t even allow the doctor to do an ultrasound on her because she kept holding out hope that you’d show the fuck back up in her life and experience seeing your child for the first time with her. That maybe you’d be by her side like you vowed to fucking be at your wedding!”
He marched forward and grabbed the glass out of my hand that I’d forgotten about and chucked it against the wall to shatter alongside the bottle of booze before turning back to look at me.
“You’re pathetic and you’re losing her while you sit here and try to grow the balls to win her back. But it’s going to be too late if you wait any longer Mav.” He said and his eyes burned with pain as he implored me to ease my own. “Go to her Maverick, before you lose her for good man.”
“I—” I said, trying to come up with the excuses I’d been using up until this point.
She’s better off without me.
I’m no good for her.
She deserves better.
“Oh, and in case you were wondering.” He said, reaching into his pocket and grabbing a wad of black and white photos and throwing them at my chest, that I just narrowly managed to catch before they fell to the ground. “Your innocent little baby is perfect, growing right along like it should be. No thanks to you of course.” He finished and threw himself down in a chair by the fireplace and watched me as I opened the pictures.
