“Ah, Camilla didn’t come with me this time,” I explain.
“Oh,” he says. “Is she sick or something?”
“No, nothing like that,” I say. “It’s just that she probably won’t be coming with me to visit anymore.”
“Why? Did your mom do something to piss her off?”
“No, Mom didn’t do anything,” I assure him. “It was me. I, ah, I left her.”
“You left your wife where?” he asks.
“I left her, left her. We’re not together anymore.”
Dark eyes that resemble the same ones I see in the mirror every day narrow to slits. “Why the hell would you do that?”
“We just grew apart,” I say rather than admit to him the truth. It’s too fucking embarrassing to say out loud, much less to my uber-masculine father, of all people.
“Grew apart?” he repeats. “Did you move out?”
“Yeah.”
“Have you tried to work things out?” he asks. “Like with couples therapy or whatever?”
“No.”
“Why not?” he asks.
“Because I don’t think that shit is going to work for us.”
“How do you know unless you try?” my dad questions. “You loved her enough to want to spend your life with her. Otherwise you wouldn’t have married her. So don’t you think you should at least try to see if you two can work things out?”
“Look, Dad, not everyone finds their soulmate and lives happily ever after like you and Mom, okay? Some of us pick the wrong person and it doesn’t work out.”
When he crosses his arms over his chest with his feet shoulder-width apart, I immediately recognize it as his lecture stance. “Do you think everything has always been perfect between me and your mother?”
“No, but…” I start, and he steamrolls right over me.
“But nothing! You made a vow, son, for better or worse. Worse happens to the best of us. Still, even when you argue or whatever, that’s not something that you can just up and walk away from. We raised you better than that.”
“It’s more complicated than an argument,” I explain.
“Listen, I’m about to tell you something that I never wanted anyone to know, especially you and your sister.”
“Okay.”
“A long time ago, your mom and I went through a rough patch.”
“Did you forget to take out the garbage or something?” I joke because my parents hardly ever fought when we were growing up. I’m pretty sure I heard them screwing more than I did arguing.
“No, I fucked up, and your mom kicked me out,” he says, looking down at the toe of his boot that he’s scuffing into the driveway.
“For what? A few hours?”
“No, a few weeks,” he replies. “We were separated, living apart, and I honestly didn’t know if we would ever get back together. I thought we were headed for divorce.”
“Wow,” I mutter in surprise. “You must have royally fucked up.”
“Oh, I did.”
“When?” I ask. “I don’t remember you not living at home.”
“You probably wouldn’t. You were only three or four years old,” he explains. “She was pissed at me, rightfully so, but I didn’t give up. We loved each other and just needed time to remember that. And thank god, because that was all when Page was pregnant with Macy. I had no idea. After that it was nothing but good times. In fact, we just celebrated our twenty-ninth anniversary.”
“Hold on. I turned twenty-eight in March, which is less than nine months apart, Dad.”
“No shit?” my father asks with his brow furrowed. “It must have been thirty years then. And you were born a month early…”
“No, you wouldn’t fuck up your anniversary, and I wasn’t premature. You knocked up mom before you were married, didn’t you?”
“That wasn’t it at all,” he says. “We just didn’t know she was already pregnant when we said our vows. But we weren’t all that surprised when she found out since I could’ve just as easily knocked her up at the jail the night we got married.”
“You were in jail?” I exclaim.
My dad glances down at the invisible watch on his wrist. “Ah, look at the time. I have to get going. Got a training appointment at seven. Would’ve cancelled if you had told us you were coming,” he grumbles. Reaching for the car door handle, he says, “Good seeing you, X-Man. Your mother’s inside the house. She’ll be happy you’re home.”
“Okay, yeah. See ya, Dad,” I tell him.
“We’ll catch up later?” he asks.
“Sure,” I agree as he gets in the car and I walk up and open the front door. “Mom?” I call out.
“Xavier!” she yells back from inside of her office, if I had to guess. I start that way, and she comes out a second later with her blonde hair pulled up in a messy bun, wearing yoga pants and an oversized Havoc tee. We meet in the hallway for a hug.
“Oh, we’ve missed you so much!” she says. “So you decided to come home for the reunion after all?”
“Yeah, I got in yesterday,” I reply.
“Where are you staying? Is Camilla with you?” she asks.
“Ah, no, she’s not. And I’m staying with Cassidy in her new house.”
“Xavier Jackson Malone,” my mother scolds me with a slap to my chest. “Do you really think staying overnight with a woman without your wife is a good idea?”
“Cass and I are just friends,” I remind her. “And Camilla and I…we aren’t together anymore.”
“What? Why not?” she asks with her face pinched.
“We’re getting divorced.”
“Oh no. When did this happen?” she asks.
“A few months ago.”
“Months ago?” my mom shouts. Grabbing my arm, she slips past me down the hall, pulling me behind her. “Come sit down and start from the beginning.”
We get to the kitchen and each take a seat at the dining table.
“Why didn’t you tell us what was going on, Xavier?”
“Because I didn’t really want to talk about it,” I explain. Twisting the wedding band around on my finger, I tell her, “There’s nothing to say. It’s over.”
“Honey, if it’s over, then why are you still wearing your ring?” she asks.
“I don’t know,” I admit with a heavy sigh. “Because then it will mean we’re really done, and I’m not sure if I’m there yet.”
“What happened?”
“I’m still not ready to talk about it,” I tell her. “And don’t bother with the whole marriage is a serious lifetime commitment spiel you don’t just quit and walk away from. Dad’s already given it to me.”
“Oh, you got to see him before he left? I’m so glad!”
“Why didn’t you two ever tell me he went to jail? Or that you got knocked up with me before you were married?” I ask to try and change the subject off of my failed marriage. I was born with my father’s competitive streak, so I hate failing at anything, especially this.