Hold On

“But I want us—”

“I don’t give a fuck what you want, Mia. I made this plain. I wanted us to sort our shit so we could move on without it fuckin’ up the memory of what we had. I told you we were over. I start somethin’ important with a woman who means a good fuckin’ deal to me and you come to my home, shovin’ me and gettin’ in my face, sayin’ jacked shit about that woman. So now that memory is gonna stay fucked. And not because I made it that way.” He lifted a hand and jabbed a finger toward her face. “You did.”

He stepped back and to the side but kept his eyes locked to her.

“Now get the fuck outta my house and do not ever come back. We are done, Mia.”

She didn’t move an inch, not even her gaze from his.

“I love you,” she whispered.

The last five years, he’d lived for her to say those words.

Now they meant nothing.

He shook his head.

She had no clue.

“Love is facing head on somethin’ that threatens it and not bending, sure as fuck not breaking, when that thing leans on you to let go. You don’t have that. In your way, I know you loved me. My way of lovin’ you was just as fucked up. We screwed that up so badly, there’s no goin’ back. At this point, the best we got is not jackin’ our shit again with someone else. I got every intention of not makin’ that same mistake twice with what I’m starting with a good woman who means somethin’ to me. I’m pissed as hell at you right now, but I hope you find you got it in you to do the same with your man. The one thing I’m certain about is that there’s nothin’ left between you and me.”

“I refuse to believe you mean that,” she replied earnestly.

He stared at her.

Yeah, she had no clue.

And at that point, he had no options, so he put his hands on his hips as he looked to the floor.

“Merry,” she called.

He lifted his head. “Get out.”

“But…Merry—”

He leaned her way and clipped, “Get…the fuck…out.”

She studied him, and when his body shifted, she said quickly, “Maybe we should find a time to talk when we’ve both calmed down.”

“Fuckin’ shit,” he muttered and moved, taking the only option she was giving him.

He went to his jacket and shrugged it on. He grabbed his phone, shoved it in his pocket, and nabbed his keys.

He then went to the door and looked back to his ex-wife, who had only moved a few feet from the wall.

“I’m goin’ out,” he shared. “I don’t got much I give a shit about, though it’d suck havin’ to buy a new TV. Now you can either get out so I can lock up and keep that TV, or you can stay until you finally catch my drift. All I ask is you close the door. If you’re here when I come back, I’ll go to a hotel. What I am not gonna do is spend more time with you. You got five seconds. What’s it gonna be?”

“Merry, you can’t just…”

She kept talking, but Garrett didn’t listen.

He counted to five.

Then he walked out, closing the door behind him while Mia was still talking.

*

Garrett got fast food for dinner, trying to calm down before he hit J&J’s.

He would find he didn’t succeed when he opened the door, his eyes going behind the bar to see Cher there with Jack. She took one look at him and her face shifted from the grin that was starting into a freeze.

She began walking down the bar.

He moved in, taking it in.

It was relatively early on a Saturday night, but the place was in full swing. Darryl was there and Dee was working the floor.

Jack and Cher had the bar.

But the stools at the end were all empty, waiting for the men who usually claimed them. None of them were there mostly because all of them had women they preferred to be with on a Saturday night, so they wouldn’t be at a bar unless their women were with them.

Except Merry.

Like Colt, his woman worked there.

He hit a stool and she was right in front of him.