She started to move around me to get to the door. A surge of panic swept through me, and I grabbed her arms. “Dad’s got a Ping-Pong set in the garage. Let’s play to win. Let’s negotiate.”
Calmly, Anna removed my fingers from her arms. “This isn’t a game, Griffin. And I’m not negotiating this time. You lied to me, you kept me in the dark. You disrespected me and our relationship, and I’m done. I’m going home. End of discussion.”
She put her hand on the doorknob, and I put my palm against the door. “Anna…come on.”
When she looked up at me, I saw the tired defeat in her eyes. She really was done with this…done with me. The swell of panic shifted to terror. She couldn’t leave me. She and the girls were my entire world. Her hand came up to my cheek; the softness of her skin only made the hollow feeling in my gut worse. No fucking way she was really saying goodbye. Not to me. We were a team…
“I hope it works out for you, Griffin. I really do.” A tear fell from her eye and splashed onto her cheek.
My throat tightened, my eyes stung, and a wave of pain was rolling around my stomach so hard, I felt like I was going to throw up. I hated feeling shit like this. I avoided feeling shit like this. Shoving down the agony rising within me, I hardened my face, hardened my heart, and hardened my soul.
Stepping away from the door, I put on my armor of indifference. You can’t hurt me. “Fine. Leave. Whatever. You know you’ll be running back in a week anyway.” I grabbed my junk. “I mean, who else is gonna fuck you as well as me?”
Anna’s expression turned to ice as she wiped the tear trail off her cheek. “Thank you,” she said, her voice cold. “You just made this so much easier.”
Opening the door, she slammed it shut behind her. Now that a panel of dark wood was separating us, I screamed, “You won’t actually leave me, Anna! I know you won’t!”
When she didn’t respond, I started hyperventilating. Fuck…she was leaving me…and I was letting her go. What the fuck was I doing?
There was hustling, bustling, and a flurry of conversations in the house, but I did my best to ignore them. It got hard to do when I heard Gibson calling my name and Anna shushing her. Sitting on the bed, I rocked back and forth with my hands covering my ears. My only defense against the onslaught of agony battling its way through me was to repeat, It doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter. None of this matters.
What felt like hours later, when my body was purged of all emotion, good or bad, I finally opened the bedroom door. With robotic steps, I made my way toward the kitchen. I needed a drink. Hopefully one strong enough to make me forget everything about my life.
Mom and Dad were whispering together. They silenced the minute I entered the room. Cigarette in hand, Mom asked, “How…are you?”
“Great. What do we have to drink around here?” My voice was coming out so monotone, I didn’t sound like me. I wondered if that was permanent. Maybe I’d forever sound like a lifeless corpse. I was fine with that. That was what I felt like.
Puffing out a long stream of white smoke, Mom told Dad, “Get him the good stuff.”
Dad immediately started rummaging through a cupboard that had always been locked when I was a kid. It wasn’t anymore. Good thing too. I’d probably break it open if it were. He started pouring scotch into a glass half-full of ice.
After he handed it to me, I thanked him and started shuffling into the living room. Mom and Dad cast each other worried glances, then followed me; Dad was still holding the scotch bottle.
“Son…you want to talk about…anything?” Dad’s voice was hesitant. Like most of the men in my family, he didn’t do “talks” or “feelings” or any of that girly shit. He wouldn’t have even asked me if Mom hadn’t rapped him on the shoulder. But I didn’t need to talk. I needed scotch, so he’d already done all he could for me.
“Nothing to talk about,” I stated.
I sipped my drink as I looked at them. Wanting them to stop looking at me like I was some fucked-up science experiment, I calmly asked, “What? Do I have something on my face?”
Mom directed me toward an open chair. “Why don’t you have a seat? I’m going to make a salad for the lasagna. It’s been done for a while now…” She started to leave once she forced me to sit. The sight of another woman turning her back on me made a flicker of something dark start to squirm its way to the surface. I buried it with a long gulp of scotch.
Before she left the room, Mom turned back to me. “In case you were wondering, Anna and the girls are staying with Chelsey. Dustin is still gone, so she’s got room…”