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“Yeah?” She turns around, brushing back her hair.
“That was Lacey. Jacob’s mom is Lacey.” I hold my hand over my heart, tapping my ink, watching the slow realization dawn. The smile slides off her face, quickly replaced by a building anger. I walk over and close the door behind her so Jackson won’t hear. He has enough to deal with without listening to his parents have an argument over his best friend’s mother.
“Jacob’s mom is the Lacey? Why did you pretend you just met her?” She turns on me.
“I didn’t.”
“You did when you didn’t say you knew her.”
“I knew how you were going to react. Things with us haven’t been the greatest. We talked the other day, and now we’re in a better place for you to hear who she is.”
“Bullshit, Landon.” She jabs her finger at me. “I walked into a room where everyone knows what’s going on except for me. I’m rambling on about becoming great friends with the woman whose name is tattooed across your chest. There was no escaping that fucking name,” she says between painfully clenched teeth.
“Bree, you’re getting loud and overly melodramatic. Calm down before Jackson hears you.” I step into her space, trying to calm her. “He doesn’t need to listen to us arguing, making our separation harder on him.”
She puts her hand over her mouth blowing out a silent breath. “That’s the famous, unforgettable Lacey. The one that got away. The one I couldn’t make you forget. God, it was always a triad. It was like she was in our bed with us every night. She was the third in our relationship.”
Can’t lie about that.
When I don’t deny it, she shakes her head, wrapping her arms around herself and turning away from me, trying to hide the hurt I know she must feel.
No matter what I did, I couldn’t forget Lace. But I tried, for so many years. For Bree, and our marriage, and for Jackson. Lacey, the girl I once knew, is ingrained in my soul, infused so deep there is no use in even trying to extract her. There is no use in trying to explain it to Bree. I never could. It’s something so great it goes beyond explanation. That’s been the hard part for me, explaining my relationship with Lacey to Bree.
“I asked you numerous times to remove that name. I remember you adamantly refused. Wouldn’t even think about it, even after I had Jackson.”
“I didn’t see the point, at the time. I had other tattoos you didn’t demand I remove. Your request came two days out of the hospital after you had our son. You were running on an erratic, emotional high.”
Her eyes open wide, dilating. “Erratic. Emotional high.” She forces the words out of her mouth, rejecting my evaluation of that time like a bitter taste on her tongue.
I know this is not going to get better. “You know what I mean.”
“Those other tattoos, Landon, aren’t names of women you’ve been with, etched into your skin. They aren’t the name of the woman who seems to have fucked you into Nirvana for the rest of your life.” She slaps her hand exactly where Lacey’s name is written under my shirt. The force of her anger sends me jerking back. “It’s hard enough trying to get yourself back after having a baby,” she says, her voice wavering. “Then I have to look at another woman’s name on the man I love, one you refuse to talk about, who meant a hell of a lot more to you than I did.”
“Bree.” I try to put my hand over hers to hold her together. She snatches her hand away from my chest as if her hand is scorched.
“I was hormonal, I’ll agree.” She sniffles, wiping at her nose and eyes. “I’d just given birth to our child. But you need to admit that no matter what I said, you would and will never get rid of that.” She looks at my chest, her long lashes batting against her tears, her voice jerky. “She’s the one that got away, for whatever reason, and I was the second choice by default, because your love for our son was enough to marry me, to try and make a family. But I wasn’t your number one choice. After Lacey and Jackson, I was third, at best.”
What the fuck could I say to that?
She’s right.
