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I grab another frame, and he dodges it flying toward him again.
“That’s supposed to make me feel better?”
He takes another step toward me.
I take one back.
“Please,baby,” he pleads. “We’ve had so many years. Don’t let this fuckup—myonlyfuckup—tear us apart. It won’t happen again. I swear it.”
“No, you tore us apart.” Fear and hurt spiral through me, and I pick up my bag from the couch. “I can’t even look at you.”
He catches my arm, turning me to face him, and guilt surfaces on his features. I swallow, hurting while watching his face contort in pain, and it torments me not to console him.
I mean, he is my husband.
I care about him.
Not enough to stay though.
I jerk out of his hold.
“Please,” he whispers. “I made a mistake.”
I remove my wedding ring and allow it to fall to the floor. “And I made a mistake in marrying you.”
He calls my name when I walk out.
* * *
“Tellme you left his sorry ass.”
I didn’t know where to go.
My mom would know something was wrong. My brothers would want to kick Devin’s ass. Not that he doesn’t deserve an ass-kicking, but today, all I want to do is clear my mind of my husband cheating. I don’t want them to know yet. I need time to process it myself before hearing their relationship advice.
Stay with him.
Leave him.
Kill him.
I drop my purse onto the bar and fall down on a stool.
“I left his sorry ass.” I fight to keep my voice steady and confident even though I’m near losing it.
Being back at Down Home seems surreal. It looks the same, smells the same,feelsthe same, like I never stopped coming.
Maliki beams with pride while standing behind the bar. “Where do you go from here?”
“No idea. Not only did we live together, but I also work for his father. I’m now homeless, possibly unemployed, and husbandless.Yay.”
Moving in with my parents is ahell no. They’re working to move on from my father’s infidelities. Ellie lives with Corbin. No doubt Devin would show up there, wanting to talk.
I press my forehead against the bar and groan. “I’m so screwed.”
“I can help you in the housing and employment department. As for the husband position, you’ll have to seek help elsewhere,” Maliki says.
I lift my head to see the seriousness on his face. “Trust me, I don’t even want to sweat about a husband.”
