“She’s only six years older, and she’s fuckin’ hot.” I glared at both of them to get my point across.
After several tense moments of stare-down silence, Jeremy finally clamped his hand on my shoulder as he walked past me. “Well, all right then. Can’t wait to meet her.” The look he gave me told me that he knew. He could see it in my eyes that this girl was different.
I looked up at him with relief. “Thanks, man.”
Tommy nodded. “Yeah, can’t wait to meet her,” he echoed, totally fucking clueless. Turning around, he grabbed his guitar from its case to practice a few songs from our newest album.
And that was that. The rest of the ride was smooth sailing.
“What the hell were you thinking, Salem?” Graham demanded as he stormed through my front door with an arm full of magazines. He was dropping Alexis off from her mid-week visit with him.
Surprised by his anger, I asked, “What do you mean?”
“This! This is what I mean,” Graham barked and tossed the tabloid magazines on coffee table. “Chris King? Really?”
I looked blankly at the magazines, trying to hide my real emotions. I was freaking the hell out inside. My picture was on the front of the damn tabloids. I guess I’d never expected that dinner with Chris would turn into a shit storm of public humiliation. “What? It was just dinner,” I lied.
“Yeah, and you know what that dinner cost you? Your fucking picture all over the tabloids as Chris King’s most recent flavor-of-the-month.” Graham glared at me with disgust.
Instantly, my frustration over the situation turned toward him. How dare he stomp into my apartment and speak to me like that. I glowered at him. “I don’t see why it’s any of your business, Graham. We’re not married anymore. We don’t live together. I can do whatever the hell I please.”
Graham fixed his eyes on me. His jaw muscle twitched. Just as quickly as he’d stormed in there, his demeanor changed. “Salem, please. Don’t do this,” he pleaded.
Suddenly, like the cork on a champagne bottle, my cork popped and the words came spewing out. “Don’t do what, Graham? Don’t stop taking care of you? Don’t stop doing your laundry and cooking for you while you sit around watching television? Don’t stop taking care of the bills, going to the grocery store, and cleaning this house top to bottom while you sit in the recliner with the remote and your laptop, doing whatever the hell you want? I’m done with that life, Graham. I have done everything for you and gotten nothing in return. I have given all I have to give. I was supposed to be your wife, not your servant!”
Graham looked hurt—remorseful. He whined, “I’m sorry Salem, okay? I’m sorry! I didn’t know how good I had it until I lost you. I’ve been a wreck since you left, and then I see these pictures while I’m standing in line at the store and I lost my mind. I can’t do this anymore, Salem. I need you.” He took two steps toward me, closing the gap between us. Reaching up, he held my face in his hands, cupping my cheeks. Leaning in, he whispered, “Please, Salem. I need you.”
I didn’t need this. I was trying to savor my amazing night with Chris. I didn’t need Graham waltzing back into my life and sucking me back into this toxic marriage, like he’d tried to do several times before. “Don’t…” I said, shaking my head. “I can’t. I’m sorry.” I stepped back, peeling his hands off my face as if they were leeches.
“Dammit, Salem.” Graham gripped his fists by his side, looking sadly around at the living room that once belonged to us, before the divorce. “You’ll regret this. One day you’ll look back on us and you’ll wish you hadn’t done this.”
I stared at him. At one point in my life I did love him. I loved him with everything I had in me. We got married because we’d created our beautiful daughter, Alexis, and wanted to be a strong family for her. But, even from the beginning, our marriage was off balance. I remember those long nights, struggling with Alexis to sleep. Graham never once offered to help out… never once shared the duty. Even after being rushed to the hospital after passing out from severe fatigue and dehydration, I still came home to the same scenario. I had grown to hate him. His selfishness carried over into many other aspects of our lives together, starting with his secretary. The day I found out he was cheating was the day I couldn’t live with him anymore. I wouldn’t choose to stay with a man who never put his wife before himself. I wanted to be cherished, not used.
I shrugged, “Maybe… but I doubt it.” Then I added, “You know, I still remember the night I came home from the hospital after passing out at work. I sat in that rocking chair at three in the morning contemplating suicide while you slept soundly in our bed. Not once… not one single fucking time did you offer to get up with Alexis so I could get some doctor-ordered rest. You just let me suffer… alone.” I shook my head, still reeling over the fact that I’d stayed with him for far too long. “Nope, trust me. I’ll never regret leaving a man who wasn’t there for me when I needed him the most.”