Changing Course (Wrecked and Ruined #1)(24)

"Okay, beautiful. I have a whole drawer filled with menus. You can pick out whatever you want."

"Perfect."





Brett

IT'S OFFICIAL. I've lost my f*cking mind. I'm honestly clueless as to why I would ask Jess back to my apartment. What did I expect? For her to fall into my bed naked, legs open waiting for me to ravage her body? No. She panicked when I kissed her. I can't even begin to fathom how she would react if she knew all the ways I have imagined having sex with her today. I couldn't seem to help myself, though. This girl makes my heart swell almost as much as my dick. I know I gave her the whole ‘just friends’ talk earlier. I really tried, but I couldn't keep my hands off her any longer.

Jesse does things to me. She makes me feel like myself again for the first time since I lost Sarah. I had no idea how good it could feel to not be consumed in self-pity. For those three hours at the bowling alley, I forgot that I was supposed to be miserable. I forgot that my life had been ripped out from under my feet. I didn't think about anything except getting hustled by a petite brunette who says darn, heck, and crap. I forgot it all. And that alone, is a magical feat.

The most shocking of it all was that, I didn't worry about Sarah once. I should probably feel guilty about that, but honestly I don't. I obsess over Sarah daily. Is she taking her medications correctly? Is she happy? What will she want for dinner on Thursday? Did she remember to pay her power bill? The list goes on and on. Sarah isn't helpless by any means, but I worry she'll need me and I won't be there for her. It's not like she would ever call me if she needed something though. Sarah has called me exactly one time since the accident. She wanted to know if I knew of a good divorce attorney.



Four years earlier…

"DAMN IT Sarah. You are not making these decisions four weeks after almost dying!" I scream at her over the phone while leaving work.

"I'm not doing this anymore. I want to go home."

"Sarah, you are home."

"No, I'm not. This is your house. I don't belong here anymore."

"Fine. You want to move back to Savannah? Let's go. I'm sure I can find a job down there."

"I'm not going anywhere with you, Brett. Let me go!" She starts crying, like she does so often these days.

"Baby, please. Let’s go back to that counselor. I'll do whatever you want. Tell me how to fix this."

"There is no fixing this! I don't love you. I haven't loved you in a long time. Even before the accident. Things just weren't right."

"What the f*ck are you talking about?" This is the first time she has ever mentioned us falling apart before the accident.

"I asked Manda about a divorce attorney, weeks before the wreck."

"Oh really? Because last month you were talking about saving up money for a trip to renew our vows in a silly Las Vegas drive thru chapel. Now you're trying to tell me you actually wanted a divorce?" I know she's lying. Sarah never would have asked for a divorce without me feeling it coming months in advance. She was never able to hide her emotions inside. I would have known if things weren't right in our relationship.

"Damn it. Fuck you! I want a divorce. I want to move out. You can't hold me captive in this house. I'm not your f*cking prisoner. Get it through your head. I don't want to be with you anymore!"

"Yeah, I think I gathered that when you started this conversation by asking about a divorce attorney."

"See! This is why I hate you. You're a prick. You talk down to me and treat me like a child." I just sigh at a loss for words.

"How about tomorrow we go visit Manda's grave. I think it would do you some good to finally go say goodbye. You're harboring a lot of guilt and taking it out on me."

"What the f*ck! Did you just go all Dr. Phil on me? I'm not going to a grave to visit my best friend. She isn't there!" She shrieks so loudly, I have to pull the phone away from my ear.

"Jesus. Can you please just calm down? I'm on my way home. We can talk when I get there."

"I'm leaving, and you can't stop me."

This time it's me yelling, "I love you! I'm going to do everything in my f*cking power to stop you. Damn it. You're my wife!"

"No, I'm not," she whispers ending the call.

It's not like her to give up so quickly. She's been different since the accident. She's always withdrawn and moody these days, but deep inside she is still the same Sarah. Never in her life has she given up without a fight. We can argue for hours over pizza toppings, so her just hanging up, worries me. I flip on my lights and speed home. Grossly abusing my resources as an officer of the law, but something isn't right.

I arrive at the house five minutes later. Parking my car in the driveway, I rush inside to find her tucked into the couch crying. I'm relieved that she's okay. Then saddened when I realize this is what "okay" looks like for Sarah these days. She's curled into a ball, knees pulled to her chest with her arms wrapped around them. She looks so lost, and it kills me that I can't help her. I want to be her rock and help her recover from this, but she won't let me. I need to be able to fix this for her. For me. I miss my wife, even though she is sitting directly in front of me. I can't reach out and hold her like I so badly long to. She won't even let me touch her anymore.