8 Weeks (Time for Love 1)

I was ready to go home. Forget the guys’ night out.

I shook Melody's hand off of my arm and started toward my car.

"If you need comfort, or someone to talk to, give me a call, Cal," Melody called out behind me.

Jesus, I thought, but kept walking without dignifying that with a response.

I texted TJ and Scott and told them that I'd left. Scott could give TJ a ride home, since he and I had rode together from work. I knew they'd understand. It was just too much to handle being in the same bar with Shelly and not being able to talk to her, let alone touch her.

I missed my wife.

I let myself into Scott's apartment, putting my keys and wallet on the table by the door. Scott liked everything to be in a certain place. His apartment was neater than any bachelor pad I'd ever seen, but Scott had always been that way.

He'd been raised by strict parents, who believed that kids should be seen and not heard, and had lived in a pretty sterile environment. There were no dinners or sleepovers at Scott's house growing up; we'd always gone to my house for that.

Compared to Scott's family, mine was like something out of the 1950s. My parents were still together, and my brother and I had been raised with a lot of freedom. Mine was usually the house that we all ended up hanging out at, and my parents liked it that way. They loved my friends, and they loved Shelly beyond belief.

I hadn't told them any of it. Not that I moved out, or why, or that Shelly wanted a divorce. I didn't have the heart to break theirs, and I was also horribly ashamed to tell them about Vegas. I knew how disappointed they would be in me. Especially my mom. I knew I'd have to tell them eventually, but I just wasn't ready yet. It was hard enough letting Shelly down, I couldn't handle my family's reaction.

I sat down on the couch that had become my bed, and picked up the remote. I turned it to ESPN and settled back, not really paying attention. I looked around Scott's place, and felt the sudden urge to mess something up. I chuckled when I thought of Scott's reaction. He'd probably kick me out.

When my gaze landed on a picture of Scott and his fiancée, my face fell.

Victoria.

Just her name sounded snooty.

I hated the fact that Scott was marrying someone exactly like his mother, because I knew she'd make him miserable, but he was convinced that he was in love.

TJ and I had both tried to talk to him about Victoria, to try and understand what he loved about her, and why he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, but Scott had started to get upset and defensive, so we let it go. She wasn't worth losing our friend over, but I couldn't help but hope that Scott realized his mistake before it was too late.

I sprawled out on the couch facing the ceiling and my thoughts went to my date with Shelly tomorrow. I wanted to do something that she loved to do, but I didn't, so I came up with karaoke for the first date. She and the girls went and sang karaoke quite a bit, but the guys and I never went along. I couldn't carry a tune to save my life, and I hated being up in front of large groups of people.

I hoped that things would go well and we would be able to have a nice time together. I wanted so much for things to go back to the way they

used to be, but I knew we had a long road ahead of us. I just hoped that this was a step in the right direction.

Chapter 12 – Shelly

I fluffed out my hair and stared at myself in the mirror, amazed to realize that I was nervous about being alone with Cal.

I’d never been nervous around him, other than the initial butterflies when we started dating in high school; normally, Cal made me feel comfortable and at ease.

Maybe I was more worried about dealing with the pain that I felt whenever I looked at him now. His betrayal hurt, as much now as it had a few weeks ago, and I wasn’t sure how I could stand to go on a date with him, knowing what he did to our marriage.

I knew that I couldn’t forgive him. Not yet. But would I be able to go through with these dates? Not only did I not want to be put in uncomfortable situations, but I didn’t want to give Cal false hope. I also didn’t want to hurt him more than I knew I already was. Yes, he’d hurt me, but I loved him enough to not want to see him in pain.

It was an all-around fucked-up situation.

I gave myself one more glance when the doorbell rang, and shrugged. He’d said casual, so jeans and a T-shirt would have to work.

“Hey,” I said to Cal when I opened the door.

He looked so handsome in the dark blue polo shirt I’d gotten him for his birthday that I had to momentarily shut my eyes and take a deep breath, to try and ease the constant ache that had taken up residence in my heart. His dark hair was mussed, and he had a five o’clock shadow. I loved it when he looked scruffy.

“You okay?” Cal asked.

My eyes fluttered open and I let out the breath.