The Real

“Jesus,” I whispered. “Did you report it?”

“The doctor did. It was the second time he’s seen him. But I would have. This stuff happens every day.”

“How do you do that? How do you handle that, Bree?”

“Because that man needed someone to be there to stitch him up and to listen to him. It’s not about me, it’s about them.”

“You’re my hero,” I said with a wobbling chin. “But you may have to talk me out of eye for an eye. I can’t forget that she hurt him. He had bruises while we were dating because he was attempting to reason with her. At first, he told me they were from roughhousing with Max on the basketball court, but confessed later it was because he was trying to finalize the divorce without getting anyone else involved. He was protecting her, and she just kept hitting him!”

“He should have reported it,” Bree said softly. “And he knows that, Abbie. He just didn’t want it known. Some people are just too proud. It’s his way. He worked through it the only way he felt he could while trying to keep his dignity.”

“I know, but look at the cost,” I said glancing out the window inwardly cringing about the signs I missed. “It makes me hate her in a violent way. My sweet man. How could she hit him?! How could she touch him like that?! I can’t believe I had the nerve to be sorry for my part in all of it when she didn’t even fucking deserve him! I swear to God I want to go all Scarface on her ass.”

Bree’s eyes widened. “Wow, mamma bear, not that you don’t have a right to be pissed, but your hormones are raging already. You wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

I showed her my teeth and winced. “Oh no!” I hung my head. “You think that’s why he ran away to play basketball?”

“You are a hot mess. Okay, yeah, we need to work some of this energy off and that big fat ass of yours.”

“You are going to hell,” I said as she tossed my Nikes at me.

“Female, mid-thirties, first baby, yeah your body isn’t going to bounce back.”

I crossed my arms indignant. “I got pregnant. I earned nine months of being fed chocolates while he rubs oil on my belly.”

“You got laid and made another human you are going to have to push out of that virginal vag and chase around for the next four years.”

I cringed.

“It’s not so romantic now, is it? We need to get those hormones under control right now, so we don’t scare the groom away a month before the wedding. And we need to get you in shape to be a late-blooming mommy.”

“Fine, that’s all I need is another coach in the family. I hate you already.”

I strapped on my shoes and looked outside to see Cameron approaching Mrs. Zingaro, who was in one of her trances while watering her freshly planted flowers with the hose Cameron had just installed. I almost tapped on the window to warn him and thought better of it.

Three, two, one.

Cameron was soaked seconds later and caught me laughing in the window above. He narrowed his eyes at me while Jenny apologized.

I gave him my biggest smile before I disappeared and turned to Bree.

“Let me guess. Mrs. Zingaro?”

“Yep,” I said as we walked out into the last of the spring sun.

The grass was a crisp green and the temperature was perfect. My mind flashed with the memory of the leaf I saw fall at Cameron’s back after our first cup of coffee. So much changed after that day.

My whole body flooded with emotion as Bree stood at my front door waiting for me to turn the lock. I looked in the direction Cameron fled from the crazy women his life.

“I love him so much,” I said with a shaky voice.

“Oh . . . my . . . fuck,” Bree exclaimed giving me a thorough once over.

I nodded my eyes widening. “Is this normal?”

“I would say that with you, it will be. Let’s get this going, shall we?”

“Okay, I would do anything for Cameron,” I professed.