“I don’t want you fighting.”
“You’re not my wife anymore, so you don’t get a say in what I do. Ever.”
“But Ryder—”
“Is a grown man. I’ll always be there for my boy, but he doesn’t get a say either.”
“Rosie—”
“Stop right there.”
“Cam—”
“No, you don’t get to throw her in my face, D’lilah. Not anymore.”
I’m met with silence.
“I’m fighting Rusty. You can be supportive, or you can mind your own damn business. I gave up everything the day I left the UFL. I did it with the hope that I could take care of you, of Ryder. Make amends for my fucked-up head. Realized last night that nothing I do will make you better, bring her back.”
“You’re giving up on me?”
“It’s been fourteen years. Ryder’s grown up and off to college soon; you’re worse off than ever. Nothing I do is fucking working.”
“I’ll try harder—”
“No, I’m taking the fight. I need this. For me.”
“So that’s it.”
“’Fraid so.”
“Don’t expect my support.”
Is she fucking kidding me? I’ve been wiping puke off her face, paying for her to live in a house that’s ten times too big, supported her through multiple stints in rehab. Hell, I left the only woman I’ve ever really cared about alone at a restaurant and vulnerable to a loan shark so I could chase after D’lilah’s drunk ass.
Heat roils in my gut. I grip my cell tighter to stop the tremors that wrack my hands. As if light is shining on my situation for the first time, everything seems so clear. I can’t do this anymore. I’m not helping D’lilah get better; I’m only supporting her getting worse.
“This is over.” I bite back fourteen years of rage that fights to spill from my lips on impulse.
“What’s over?”
“You’ve got three months. Sober up, get your shit together, and move on.”
“Okay, fine.”
“No, you don’t get it. I’m selling the house in three months, ’Li.”
“But—”
“You’ve got twenty-eight days to get sober and another two months to get a job and find a place to live. I’ll help you until then, but at the end of three months, the house goes on the market and I walk away.”
“Cam—”
“Non-negotiable.”
“What am I supposed to do?”
“I’d get lookin’ for a rehab facility. Fast. You want my suggestion? Call Raven’s Nest. They have people you can talk to who’ll be able to point you in the right direction.”
“Raven’s what? Wait, why are you doing this?” The panic in her voice is palpable.
“Because you’ve done nothing but suck the fucking life out of me, D’lilah, and I let you. I offered it to you with open hands and you took. Now I’m done. I have nothing left for you. Three months, ’Li, and you’re on your own.”
I hang up the phone at the sound of her muffled sobs. She’ll cry, turn to the bottle, get blitzed, and then call me back to lay into me and remind me of all the ways I’ve failed her. Running on an endless loop since forever, we’ve tortured each other by allowing this shit to continue. Ryder being thrown in the middle, he’s now a casualty of this disgusting war we’ve waged against ourselves: both of us grinding through the self-torture as a way to pay penance.
I never saw it clearly before. Sometimes it takes losing someone to put life into perspective. Sort out priorities.
I’ve lost close to everything I ever loved, and I’m only now seeing shit for what it really is: a series of tragic mistakes that have ruined lives.
And I’ve had the power to put an end to it all.
Thirty-Six
Two months later . . .
Eve
“Don’t, seriously, I will kick each and every one of you in the balls if you sing.” The high pitch of my voice and the fact that I can’t stop smiling is probably the reason why everyone sitting around the table has started singing “Happy Birthday.”
I shake my head with a grin that I know is gigantic because my teeth are getting cold.
They serenade me in a wretchedly beautiful rendition that has me pulling back tears. Raven, Jonah with Baby Sadie in a sling across his chest, Blake, a very pregnant Layla, Owen and his wife Nikki, Caleb, Wade, and Mason. Everyone except Rex, who rarely shows up for anything that isn’t UFL related anymore.
They finish off the final word to the song, stretching out “You” in the most obnoxious way possible, which shoots right to my heart. My throat swells, and my eyes burn as I use the last of my strength to keep from falling apart.
A single tear escapes, but I dip my chin to look at the homemade chocolate cake that Raven and Layla made for me. The finger swipes through the decadent frosting have me giggling through my tears, making me feel crazy and loved all at the same time.