Pam: There’s nothing to say. Your actions said plenty. Don’t bother coming home. Stay away from me. Maybe Danika has room for you in her bed.
I hit send and power down my phone. I need to cleanse myself of that man.
He’s all around me. I can smell him. Leather, tobacco, and a hint of spice.
Not even here but he surrounds me.
I feel caged in. Like I can’t breathe.
Tears flood my cheeks as I gather his things.
My chest shudders on a sob.
Love doesn’t live here anymore and neither does he.
Chapter Three
Pam hasn’t answered any of my text or calls since the last one I got from her telling me to stay away. I drove all damn night to come home to her and our son. I know I fucked up. I’m going to fix this. I won’t lose her or my son over one dumbass mistake. I sigh in relief when I hit our road and see her SUV. She’s never been a runner but right now I don’t know what she will do.
Fuckin’ beat. All I want is to hug my boy and kiss my crazy ass woman. I roll up to the house, as I pull into the carport, I see the neighbor’s black lab running past me with what appears to be one of my boots hanging from his mouth. What the fuck. I park my bike and take my helmet off, hanging it off the handlebars of my chopper. I go around to the front yard and that’s where I find all my clothes strung about wet, reeking of dog piss and my favorite fuckin’ tee from a trip Pam and I took down to Florida has a pile of dog shit right on the chest covering the logo from a bar we stopped at.
That’s fitting, I guess. My life is going to shit. My marriage. Going to hell in a handbasket.
I scrub a palm over my face feeling the grime of the road. Fuck. I stare toward the house and see my wife smirking at me with Connor on her hip from the doorway. My boy smiles big at me. She holds his hand up giving me a wave while whispering in his ear. Bitch has lost her god damned mind. I strut up the walkway popping my knuckles and she shakes her head at me.
“Open the door, Pam.”
“I told you. Stay away from me. There’s nothing here for you.”
“I been on the road. I’m tired. Fuckin’ starving for your good cookin’. I need a shower and to see my son.”
“You can do those things somewhere else. I’ll have my lawyer contact you to let you know about visitations. But as you can see, Connor’s fine.”
“Lawyer. The fuck?”
“I’ll be filing for a legal separation, Brant.” She never calls me Brant unless she’s super pissed.
Connor leans forward touching the glass of the door and mumbling, “da-da.”
“We need to talk about this.” I clench my fists.
“We will when our lawyers are ready to sit down.”
“Not gonna be no damn lawyers. You’re my wife. Now open the fucking door so I can see my kid.”
“That’s not happening. You need to go.”
“I swear to fuck you better open that door.” I smack my palm on the side of the house, and she flinches.
“You’re scaring my son.”
My nostrils flare. “You mean our son.”
“Whatever. I need you to leave.”
“Yeah. It’s always about what you need. It’s Pam’s world and I get to breathe in it.” I pull my phone out and dial my sister. Zoe. “Hey. Need you to take Connor for a few days.”
The front door opens, and Pam rushes out, screeching, “Never mind, Zoe. You aren’t needed.”