“Mom said—”
“Is your homework finished?” I repeat, cutting him off, and he looks to his mom and swallows before he shakes his head. “You know the rules. No video games during the school week unless your homework is done.”
“I told him it was okay,” Beth says, and I cut my eyes to her. “It’s not a big deal, Gareth.”
“You’re wrong, Beth. It’s after six, which means when he should be relaxing before going to bed tonight, he’s going to be up doing the homework he should have gotten done when he came home from school.”
“I told him it was okay, so if you’re going to be mad at anyone, be mad at me,” she argues, standing from the couch, and I fight the urge to roar or pick something up and toss it across the room.
Fuck me, she will never change. This is what she does best, makes it seem like I’m the asshole and she’s the good guy before she disappears, leaving me to deal with the aftermath.
“Go get started on your homework. December is gonna be here soon with dinner,” I tell Max.
“How sweet. Your girlfriend is bringing you dinner,” Beth says, and I see Max’s shoulders slump before he heads down the hall.
“Just go, Beth.” I sigh. I don’t have the energy to deal with her shit right now.
“I’m thinking about moving back to town for good.”
“Great,” I reply, not believing for one second that will happen, especially since she’s been saying the same shit for years.
“I’m serious.”
“Good.” I look at her. “Max will like having you around more often.”
“I’ll want fifty/fifty custody after I get settled.”
“No.” My jaw clenches.
“Did you just say no?” she asks, placing her hands on her hips.
“I’m sorry. I meant hell fucking no,” I grit out.
“If I go to a lawyer—”
I laugh without humor, interrupting her, and her expression gets tight. “Spend your money, Beth. Go to a lawyer, and while you’re there, explain the last few years and exactly how much time you’ve had with our sons, how much money you’ve sent for their care,” I tell her quietly, not wanting the boys just down the hall to hear. “Then tell your lawyer that you want a judge to grant you fifty percent custody because you’re pissed and jealous that I’ve found someone solid and the boys like her.”
“You won’t be so smug if I go to a lawyer, Gareth.”
“You might be right, Beth, but in a month, this conversation won’t mean shit, because you’ll be gone again. Now, please get out of my house.”
“Whatever. Tell Max I’ll be at the school tomorrow to pick him up. And tell Mitchell I want to spend time with him.”
“Mom will be picking up Max tomorrow. You can come over and hang with them if you want. As for Mitchell, he’s old enough to choose if he wants to spend time with you. And since every time you’ve been around he’s disappeared into his room, I’m thinkin’ he doesn’t want that.”
“I don’t need to be supervised with my own son, and you’ve turned Mitchell against me,” she hisses then turns to the door when there’s a knock and stomps to it, swinging it open. “Give us a minute.” She slams it closed, and I see fucking red but check the urge to bodily remove her from my house.
I move past her to the door, and the moment I open it, December gives me a wide-eyed, adorable look. “Sorry, babe.” I take two bags from her, recognizing the scent of barbeque coming from them.
“We’re not done talking,” Beth informs me as December hangs up her purse and coat.
“We are.” I keep the door open for her to leave. “The boys need to eat, finish their homework, and then get ready for bed.”
“You’re such a fucking asshole.” She glares at me from her position in the middle of the living room then she shoots her eyes to December as she walks to my side.
“I don’t want her—” She points at December. “—around our sons.”
December’s nose scrunches at the statement, but besides that, she doesn’t react.
“Go to your hotel, Beth.”
“I’m serious, Gareth. I don’t want her around my boys.”
“Guess what, Beth. In life, you don’t always get what you want. Now, please leave before I call the cops and have you removed.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.” I hold her stare.
Reading my look, her face twists into a sneer and she points at me then December. “Fuck you and you.” She stomps to her bag, grabs it, and continues to stomp past us. As soon as she clears the threshold, I shut the door and shake my head.
“Well, that was intense,” December says quietly, and I focus on her as she places a hand against my stomach.
“I told you she was being nice yesterday.”
“You did. I didn’t believe you.” She bites her lip. “Are you alright?”