Four Letter Word (Dirty Deeds 1)

Speaking of douche bag tools.

Marcus had gotten off too easy. He pulled the pin on our relationship and walked away without any refusal from me. I’m not a wallflower. Far from it, actually. I would eventually face him and give him every word I was meant to say in that bedroom. He deserved to know how I felt, but more than that, he deserved to feel it.

“What …the hell was that?” Tori appeared in front of me, her hands stuck to her hips. “Did you seriously say all of that to a wrong number?”

I nodded.

“Holy shit, you badass. Way to commit.” Her smile faded a second before her eyes went soft. “Are you going to try Wes again? Because really, Syd, you don’t have to do that. I’m not asking you to fight my battles, and to be honest …” She trailed off, swallowing heavily as her eyes lowered. “I think I’m okay. I mean, I’m completely done with men for the time being, but I’m not chasing a bottle of pills with some hooch. I’ll get over it. He was just another mistake.”

After I was silent for a few seconds, she bent down and placed her hand gently on my knee.

“Hey,” she whispered.

I rolled my head to the side until our eyes met, and before she spoke her next words, I knew from the look on her face what she was planning on asking me.

I decided to beat her to it.

“Marcus told me tonight he wants a divorce.”

She sucked in a breath.

“What? Why? What happened?”

Before I could answer, she shot up abruptly, holding her hand out to keep me quiet.

“Wait. We need wine for this discussion, and all of the chocolate in this house. Give me a minute.”

She turned to take a step, but halted, spinning back around and pointing at the floor.

“You will be living here.”

My mouth lifted in the corner.

“Thank you.”

She disappeared down the hallway in a blur of blond hair and long limbs as I tucked myself into a ball, staring off into the quiet house.

My new home.

Chapter Two

SYDNEY

“I just …I don’t get it.”

Tori slid down onto the floor next to me in front of the couch with another bottle of wine.

We had polished off the first one rather quickly while I revealed the details of my evening, which included everything involving Marcus, plus the ending of my employment in Raleigh I handled over a phone call on the drive here, and I was already starting to feel the effects of the alcohol. My cheeks were flushed and I was growing tired.

Wine always made me sleepy.

She popped the cork and poured herself another glass.

“How do you fall out of love with someone after seven years together?” she asked. “How does that even happen? And with no warning, that’s the strangest part. It’s like he just woke up and, boom, he wants out.”

I took the bottle from her and brought it to my lips. The moscato warmed my throat.

“There were warnings,” I confessed, staring straight ahead. I could instantly feel her eyes on me.

“Like?”

Tori sounded baffled, which was to be expected. I hadn’t shared with her the details of the past few months with Marcus. Not because I wanted to keep her in the dark, but because at the time, I was lost in it myself. I didn’t want to see what was happening to my marriage. I didn’t want to feed any truth to it. So I made excuses for Marcus. I played down obvious cautions and ignored my suspicions. Anything to keep myself from acknowledging the reality.

“Syd.”

Tori nudged my shoulder, snapping me out of my head.

“Sorry.” I gave her a weak smile, then focused on the bottle in my hand. “You know how Marcus’s job is. He’s always worked crazy hours, but lately, it was nonstop. Twelve-to-fourteen-hour days. He’d pick up side jobs on the weekend for extra cash. We never saw each other anymore. If he was home, I was working and vice versa. It was like we were living separate lives in the same house.”

“But you guys still talked to each other and stuff, right?”

I subtly shook my head.

“Not about anything other than stuff we had to discuss, like if a certain bill was paid or what I needed to pick up from the market. He became quiet, like really distant with me, but I figured it was just the job getting to him. I knew he had to be exhausted. He was never home.”

“Mm.” She brought her glass to her lips. “What about texting? Didn’t you two talk on the phone at all?”

I gave Tori an odd look. She should’ve known the answer to that question.

“You know how Marcus is with technology. He hates cell phones. He rarely carries his with him. And texting is out of the question. He refuses to do it.”

I took another swig of the wine, remembering the countless conversations we’d had about him never returning my messages.

“How am I supposed to respond to a smiley face? And I’m not typing on that small as shit keyboard. It’s lame.”

I took a deep breath before continuing on with my confession.

“We stopped having sex, too. That should’ve been the biggest red flag, but again … long hours. I just figured he was too tired.”

I prayed he was too tired. The other possibility, my husband no longer finding me physically attractive, wasn’t something I wanted to believe, and it wouldn’t have been something I could’ve understood either.

I hadn’t changed much since Marcus and I first met in high school. I still looked fairly the same. Yes, I was curvier and filled out my jeans a bit more, especially in the bottom, which seemed to be where I stored all the extra calories I consumed, but Marcus acted like he loved the freshman fifteen I held on to. Up until recently, he could barely keep his hands off me in public.