Irreversible Damage (Irreparable 2)

“Hmm…I know that pout. You’re far from good.” He tips my chin up to look at him. “Listen, I’m late for this lunch meeting already. Are you free for dinner?”

I consider telling him “I’d rather eats slugs than go out with you,” but I hold it back. That was the old Tori. “I don’t know, Tug…I…” I have no idea what I’m trying to say. I’d love nothing more that to spend some time with him. I want to hear him laugh. I love Tug’s laugh.

“It’s just dinner.” He taps my nose once. “I’d love to catch up. I’ve missed you.”

My heart soars with happiness. “I’ve missed you, too.”

“Good, then it’s settled.” He winks at me. “I’ll pick you up at six.” He turns and walks away.

“Wait!” I yell out to him. He turns around to face me. “You don’t know where I live.”

“Six,” he repeats with a smile. He turns back and disappears into the restaurant.

Brady

I’ve had Andrew for three days without a word from Annabelle. She finally texted me that she would be here to pick him up this evening. At midnight she had the audacity to show up drunk and want to take him home. After informing her that he was asleep, I offered to let her sleep here so she wouldn’t drive drunk.

I sort through Andrew’s laundry, folding tiny shorts and T-shirts as I ponder my earlier conversation with Liv. She suggested I rectify my and Annabelle’s current custody situation with a court-ordered visitation setup. I’ve thought about it, but have avoided bringing it up to Annabelle. I don’t want to fight with her, but I’m starting to understand Andrew needs some kind of routine and structure in his life.

“You got a minute?” Annabelle walks into my room without knocking. She saunters toward me, staggering a little. She wears a look I’ve seen way too often lately, a look of seduction. It’s desperate. I almost feel sorry for her. I’ve tried everything to convince her we’re never going to be together. Tonight I need to spell it out clearly for her. My gaze travels from her cake-faced makeup to her hooker skirt. I’m sure she thinks it’s sexy. It’s trashy.

I put my hand up before she reaches me. “Don’t!”

She stops in her tracks, trying hard to look hurt, but I know it’s fake. “She’s never coming back.”

My eyes narrow at her. “Don’t talk about her,” I snap, turning away from her.

She pulls on my arm until I spin to face her. “She’s not, and Andrew deserves two parents.”

My body tenses as my nerve endings spark. “Don’t you fucking dare use him to try to fuck me, Annabelle. This is not a game. He’s not a pawn.”

Her lips press flat as her eyes shift to the floor. “I only want what’s best for him.”

“I do, too, and I don’t think our fucking has anything to do with that.”

She’s unaffected by my harsh words. “Can’t you at least try?” Her hand brushes across my chest. “We could be really good together, Brady.”

“It’s not going to happen, Annabelle.” I remove her hand from my chest, and take a step back. “I love my son. You and I are friends, but the more you push me, the less I even want that.”

“Oh, come on.” She moves closer, grabbing for my hand.

I jerk it away and scowl at her, then decide to drop the bombshell I’ve been avoiding. “We need to discuss a custody arrangement for Andrew.”

She recoils, looking shocked. “What we have works for me.”

I shake my head. “It’s not good for him.”

“It’s fine!”

“It’s not fine.” Her eyes widen as my voice rises until I’m shouting. “It’s confusing for him to be tossed about between us on whatever day of the week you feel like.”

“Whatever.” Her eyes roll as she smiles indignantly. “You’re just turning this around on me to avoiding talking about Tori.”

“No, what I’m doing is discussing our son. The only thing I’m obligated to talk to you about. My personal life is none of your goddamn business.” Now I’m really pissed, my anger soaring to new heights. I step close to her, hoping she feels the anger oozing out of me, takes a hint. Her body goes rigid. “Your showing up here tonight drunk only solidifies my doubts about how we’re parenting him. Did you really think it was okay to pack him up and drive home in your condition?” I’m only getting started. “And where the hell have you been for three days?” My surging anger can’t be held back. I’m screaming at her. “What the fuck kind of mother leaves her kids for three days without even so much as a phone call?”

“I’m sorry!” she shouts back, tears springing free from her eyes. Finally, some genuine emotion from this woman. “I’m sorry, okay. I never wanted a kid.”

I let out a disgusted breath of air. That’s her excuse. “So that makes it right?”