Page 32 of Right the Wrongs (Broken Vows #5)

Chapter Twenty-One

Griffin - Present

I look at my phone for possibly the hundredth time. Charlie reaches over and takes it from my hand.

“I know patience is a foreign concept for you, but try and let that thought grow in that thick block where your brain is supposed to be. You need to give Wren a little bit of space. She’s not leaving you, she’s just taking a moment to collect herself.

If you go all caveman right now, that might change,” he says.

The party broke up not long after the women left. Only Charlie and Scott are still here. Donovan managed to sneak past Charlie and go after them. Claudia took off after speaking to Wren. I’m not even sure Liam got a chance to talk to her like I’d hoped he would.

Charlie narrows his eyes at me. “I can practically see thought bubbles forming over your head. Please tell me you’re thinking about how to get Wren to forgive you, and not worrying about what is going on between Liam and Claudia.”

You have to give a shit what people think to lie to them. Charlie is my best friend, but even for him, I don’t care enough to tell him what he wants to hear. “I was just wondering if all of this was for nothing. Wren is pissed at me, and for what?”

He reaches for the front pocket of his shirt, then drops his hand.

When he notices me watching him, he shrugs.

“Hattie found my cigarettes again and got rid of them. I wouldn’t even want to smoke right now if you weren’t such a dumbass.

Did you really ask what the point is? You just don’t get what’s bothering her, do you? ”

He acts like this is some kind of complex equation he just can’t figure out how to solve. “Look, I know that Wren is upset with Liam right now. You were here when they were bickering last week, remember?”

“So, you thought you’d help your wife deal with whatever is going on with her by playing marriage counselor for your son and his wife?” Charlie prods.

“If we want things to get back to normal, then they need to sort out their shit.” All of this seems so obvious to me, I don’t understand why he didn’t think of it too. The look on his face is making me question how I’m seeing everything.

“Griff, what the fuck is normal? Have we ever been normal? I’m not even talking about the fact that your wife used to be your daughter-in-law, or that I’m kind of your uncle now.

Both of us have stepped in where we shouldn’t have over the years to try to protect Liam to the point where that is what you think of as normal.

It hasn’t even registered with you that your wife took off after finding out that you kept her from learning about Liam’s cheating earlier than she did.

Instead, you’re still sitting here wondering if he made up with his wife yet. ”

He digs into one of Wren’s potted plants and pulls out a plastic freezer bag with a pack of cigarettes inside.

I wish he’d quit for good, but at least he’s only able to do it now when he can sneak one in.

I know better than to interrupt him when he’s jonesing for nicotine, so I wait for him to continue talking.

“Liam is thirty-five years old. If he can’t manage his own relationships now, then he shouldn’t be in one. More importantly, you really need to be figuring out how to make up with your own wife,” he says.

“Good point,” I agree. I stand up and pull my keys out of my pocket. “I should go get her now and make her forgive me.”

Scott reaches across me and snags the keys from my hand. “Yeah, we would actually like her to forgive you, so I’ll take these,” he says and dangles my keys in front of me.

“You’re overreacting. All I need to do is find her so we can talk,” I argue back.

Charlie puts his hand on my shoulder and pushes me back down into my chair.

“Okay, listen, asshole. This is not one of those times you can just go off half-cocked and swing your dick around until she gives in. The last time you prioritized Liam, you drove her all the way to Florida. Be glad she only went across town. Follow after her, and that could change.”

I stop fighting against his hold. The memory of racing across states to get to her hasn’t faded enough not to hurt yet.

I wonder if that is what she feels every time I jump to help Liam with something.

Does she remember all the harsh words I threw at her before they split?

Maybe every time I do something for Liam, or shit, even have him over for dinner, does she think I don’t care about how he’s treated her in the past?

Happy that I’m no longer trying to get up from the table, Charlie pats my shoulder before letting go.

“Glad to see the thought bubble forming over your head, even if it is only filled with ellipses right now. You just sit with it until a thought forms. Maybe then, when she comes home, you’ll have something to say. ”

Scott clears his throat. “I agreed with everything Charlie said, except for coming up with something to say. I think you’ve said enough over the years. You need to listen. You’re a quiet guy, you should be pretty good at that.”

Charlie opens his mouth to argue, then promptly closes it. “The kid has a point. When she comes home, and she will this time, listen and really hear her. Most of all, don’t try to convince her to feel a different way.”

“Kids,” Scott called up the stairs, “grab your stuff. You’re going to help me finish decorating the nursery at my house.”

My boys don’t need to be told twice to go anywhere with Scott.

They’ve definitely got a lot of hero worship going on for him.

Parker isn’t far behind them with her little sister cradled in her arms. She’s quiet around Scott, but being a preteen, I’d imagine she’s got a little crush on him.

It’s not like she’d see that as weird with all of us here.

I don’t worry, though, because Scott is hopelessly in love with Harlow.

Actually, of all of us, he’s the only one who didn’t fuck up on the way to winning his wife. If there’s one person I need to take advice from, it would be him. That means I’ve got until Wren comes home to figure out how to really listen without bulldozing over her.

The silence unnerves me while I wait for Wren to come home. I could go watch the game, but I’m afraid that I’ll miss hearing her come down the drive if I do. The last thing I want is for her to think she’s interrupting something.

I don’t have to wait very long after Charlie and Scott leave, though. They were probably communicating with their wives, so they knew exactly how long to keep me busy. If I’d have left when they did, all I’d have done was pass her on the road. I’m sure that wasn’t a coincidence.

I’m still sitting at the table when Wren walks in the back door.

She freezes when she sees me. Up until this moment, I think a big part of me still hoped we could avoid this talk.

This feels like one of those cans-of-worms events where once we crack this problem open, we’ll never put everything right again.

Now, I see that I’ve been fooling myself that anything is right without saying anything. The only thing we’ve got right now is a lot of pretending.

I stretch my leg out and push the chair across from me away from the table. “Baby Bird, I think it’s time we talk.”

She sighs and sets her purse down at the end of the table. Without a word, she takes a seat. Already, I’m off to a poor start considering she’s waiting for me to speak and I’m supposed to be listening.

“Talk to me, Wren. I’ve been told I’m not a great listener, but I’m going to do better. I can’t do anything unless you start speaking and tell me what’s wrong.”

“I don’t think you really want to know,” she says in a small, quiet voice.

“Let me be the judge of that. You won’t know what I think until you start talking, and I can’t fix it until you tell me what’s broken,” I prod her.

“That’s the thing, you’re trying to fix things is the problem.” She stops talking, like that is enough to end this conversation.

In the past, I would have started pushing her until I got her to elaborate. Then I’d have done something to fix things. Now I’m wondering how many times she’s told me what I wanted to hear, gave me some puzzle I could solve, and misdirected me away from what was really going on for her.

Instead of pushing, I wait. Listening is hard.

Hearing is easy, but actually letting words sink in is something else.

While we sit in the growing silence, she starts to squirm in her seat.

I’m not stopping her from getting up and leaving.

Scott and Charlie are right that we need this.

Wren needs this above all, and I just have to let her work up to it at her own speed.

“I know tonight was a mess,” she finally starts to say.

Again, she pauses, and I fight the urge to fill the silence with useless sound. I could jump straight out and start offering explanations or apologies for my past actions. She certainly deserves both. I silently remind myself that I need to be quiet in order to listen.

Wren waits a painfully long moment to allow me to jump in and take over the conversation like I probably usually do, but when I don’t, she pushes forward.

“I’ve tried, and I just can’t do it anymore.

I don’t know why now, I think his relapse brought back too many memories.

I feel like a horrible bitch, but I am finding it hard to even be around Claudia right now. ”

“Why?” One word still counts as listening, right? I’m trying to get more out of her and keep her talking, so I think it counts.

“I’m not still in love with him if that’s what you’re asking me,” she grumbles.

“It wasn’t, but I do want to help you get to the bottom of what you’re feeling. It’s obvious that it’s bothering you, and I don’t like it,” I tell her.

Wren laughs. “ You don’t like it? Well, then we should do something about it if you don’t like it.”

I take a deep breath and stop myself from responding right off the bat. “Okay, I might not have a college degree like you, but I am well educated in sarcasm. I just want you to talk to me.”

“I’ve been talking to you, Griff. That’s the thing.

I’ve told you that I was having issues being around him.

I’ve said it when we first got together, probably a few times over the years, and I know I’ve said it recently.

Every time I tell you that I’ve got an issue with him, you try and force some kind of family bullshit that allows you to tell yourself that everything is perfect and we’re one big happy family. ”

“What do you want me to do?” I ask her.

She shrugs, and I can feel waves of frustration rolling off of her. “I don’t know. It really doesn’t matter what I say anyway because you’re still going to do what you want. Isn’t that right, Daddy ?”

That’s the first time in years she’s called me that out of anger instead of lust. I don’t like this either, but I know better than to say so right now.

“Be mad at me. It’s not the first time, probably won’t be the last. I tend to do and say things that piss you off regularly. You can be as mad as you want, but come to bed now. Let me remind you why you stay,” I demand.

This is where we always connect. No matter what dumbass thing I’ve said or done, there’s always a pull dragging us back together.

I guess there is a first time for everything, because she shakes her head and backs away.

“Not tonight, Griffin. I’m done letting myself get carried away by lust. Nothing ever changes when I do that, and I feel like I’m losing it. I’m going to sleep in the guest room tonight,” she says and retreats toward the stairs.

I wait until she’s safely away and storm outside. I don’t know what to do. If I were Charlie, I’d dig up a random plant and find some cigarettes, but I’ve only ever found the habit disgusting.

I stomp away from the house until I’m deep in the woods behind our properties. I’ve been cutting up a fallen tree back there, and swinging an ax seems like the perfect activity to release some frustration.

“Fuck,” I yell as I swing the ax to split a log.

“I guess that’s one way to release tension. Personally, I prefer cigarettes,” Charlie says, startling me.

I swing around, ax still in hand, then realize who is talking. I bury it in another core of wood. “Pretty stupid creeping up on someone with an ax,” I tell him.

Charlie ignores me. “Talk didn’t go well, I take it?”

I shoot him a look. “Does it look like I’m fucking my wife right now?

Because that’s the kind of wood I’d rather be handling at this moment.

Instead, I’m chopping at logs in the forest. Wren is sleeping in the guest room tonight.

Isn’t that fucking fantastic?” I punctuate my last question by taking some aimless swings at the log I’ve butchered to sawdust.

He winces. “The two of you fought, and it didn’t end in you tangled up naked and sweaty?”

I point the ax at him. “Joke around about this right now, I dare you.”

He puts his hands up, and I realize how unhinged I’m acting and drop the ax.

Once I’m unarmed, he continues, “I’m being serious. That’s not normal…for the two of you. There’s no shame in seeking professional advice.”

“You think I need therapy?”

He tilts his head to the side. “Growing up in Harriston, I think we all need therapy, but in this case, couples counseling is probably the way to go.”

There may have been a time when I’d have let my pride, or some misguided sense of masculinity, prevent me from asking for help, but I’m far too old for dumb shit like that. Now, I am willing to do anything to save my marriage.