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“You know, it’s okay that it’s not easy. It’s not easy for me either. I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with your dad, but look at where we are now.”
“It’s weird for you too?”
“Very weird. I thought your dad and I would be together until we died. Your husband getting married to another woman isn’t something that you think about on your wedding day. But I’m happy to be here with you. I’m glad you wanted me to come.”
Deja nods, biting her bottom lip. “Why didn’t you give up on me? I know I was horrible to you. Dad gave up on me.”
If I ever get a chance to murder Jake without anybody finding out, I might just do it… especially if he realizes what his actions are doing to Deja. She may be a teenager, but she’s still a child. She needs her dad to tell her everything is going to be alright. She needs him to love her through whatever she’s going through.
“I will never give up on you, Deja. Never. You can act like the worst monster in the world, and I will still love you. Although, I would appreciate if we didn’t go back to the hating me phase. But you’re my daughter, and I’m going to love you through whatever difficult things you’re going through. I’m never going to give up on you.” I know I’m repeating myself, but I want to reassure my daughter that she’s safe with me,.I’ll always be there for her, even during the times she doesn’t want or need me to be.
Deja sniffles, wiping away a tear before hugging me. We fall quiet, holding hands as the wedding starts. If it had been anybody else, I might have said it was a beautiful wedding, but there’s something about the fact it’s my ex-husband’s wedding that keeps me slightly bitter.
However, all I have to do is look at Deja and the bitterness fades. The divorce has been rough. It has been messy. I thought it was going to drive Deja and me apart, that the damage would be irreparable, but all it has done is bring us closer together.
Chapter Twenty
Liam
My head is aching, the remnants of my bender from the night before scattered around the floor. I look at the cans of beer, the world spinning as I get to my feet. My stomach twists and turns. It has been a long time since I’ve downed bottle after bottle to chase away my demons. Now, I’m in desperate need of a shower.
“Whoa, this place is a mess,” Jason says, walking into my room and shaking his head. I had no idea where he’d been since yesterday, and I was too fucked up to care. He’d kept pestering me about things with Tracey until I’d totally shut down and stopped speaking to him. I hadn’t taken kindly to him being the voice of reason at the time. “You should be ashamed of yourself. It’s been weeks since you decided you couldn’t win her back. You either need to grow a pair and get her back or stop moping.”
“I’m not moping,” I say, stumbling to the bathroom. “I’m drowning my sorrows. There’s a difference.”
“There’s no difference,” Jason says, grabbing the trashcan from the bathroom and making his rounds around the bedroom. Empty cans clash together as he tosses them inside the garbage can.
“There’s a difference. Drowning my sorrows is an old tradition known by men who have had their hearts broken.”
“Dumbass.” Jason’s voice is laced with disgust. “You’re the one who broke your own heart, and for what? You lost everything, so it means you have everything to gain. Stop trying to be the hero and go fight for what you want.”
“Tracey made her feelings clear. I’m not going to be the one to disrespect her by not carrying through with what she wants. ”
Jason scowls and shakes his head. “You’re insane. You think she isn’t missing you as much as you’re missing her?”
I choose to ignore my brother’s question because the possibility of Tracey not missing me, not wanting me back, not wantingusback… It’s an absolute mindfuck. “She’ll do whatever it takes to protect Deja. It’s been weeks, which means she has probably moved on.”
Jason glances out the window, a smile crossing his face as he shakes his head. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”
There’s a pounding at the door. I ignore it, hoping whoever it is will leave, but they don’t. The pounding only grows louder and more forceful.
“What the hell?”
I hurry down the stairs and haul open the door, ready to start yelling at the asshole who’s been banging on my door, when I see Deja looking up at me with a scowl. She crosses her arms over her chest and glares at me with a look that could send grown men running for their mothers.
She looks me over, her lips curling. If I were in her position, I doubt I would be impressed with what I saw. I’m a mess. Each night has only gotten harder to get through, especially once I made the decision to stop calling Tracey. After that, it became nearly impossible to fall asleep at night without a beer… or two… or six.
“Why weren’t we enough for you?” she asks, storming inside and heading straight for the kitchen. Spotting Jason as he enters the room, she points to the fridge. Jason gives her a nod and immediately pulls a bottle out of the refrigerator, opens it and pours it down the drain—all while Deja continues to glare at me. “You smell like alcohol is leaking out of your pores.”
“Deja, what are you doing here?” I ask, running a hand down my face. I’m inwardly praying she leaves just as quickly as she pushed her way inside. I’m really not up to this right now.
Jason smirks as he stares at me. Deja’s glare is still in place as she takes in the empty bottles on the counters and the takeout containers littering the dining table.
“I came here because you and my mom are giant idiots.” She leans against the wall as Jason reaches into the fridge for another bottle and starts dumping that out too. “Why weren’t we enough for you?”
“Hell, Jason. That beer is expensive.”
“Don’t care,” he says, grabbing a third bottle. “Answer Deja’s question.”
