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FORTY-ONE

JACK

DECEMBER

There was no way I was talking to Mara about it . What she said to me on the ice.

That she loved me. What did that mean?

I knew Mara could love. She loved all the time with the kids, giving it so freely. But love? Romantic love? For me?

If she did, she was a fool.

The kids were asleep in an adjoining suite and I was getting ready for bed. I was brushing the piss out of my teeth, feeling my gums grating against the way I pressed. Mara appeared next to me, watching me in the bathroom mirror.

“Hey.” Mara’s soft hand came to my arm.

I spat in the sink and turned on the water. “Hey.”

“It’s fine if you need space. I’ll give you space. But . . .” Mara sniffed and I snapped to look at her. Was she the one crying?

I’d seen this film before.

Sydney crying and saying how badly I’d hurt her even when she did something wrong. Her taking anything and making it my fault. Her crying until I did exactly what she wanted, and maybe some things she didn’t ask for just to try and make it okay.

Her crocodile tears and “You don’t really love me if you won’t do this.” I knew what it was like to feel unloved, so I didn’t want Sydney to feel that way.

“I can’t deal with your crying,” I growled.

Mara looked at me from a tearstained face, shrugging. “It’s a normal reaction when you’re upset, Jack.”

“No, you just want something.”

“Yeah!” Mara said, sniffling and heading for the tissue box. “I want you to be open with me. If you’re not ready to talk, that’s fine. I just need to know whether you need me or if you need space. I need a basic level of respect. I need you to look at me. If you’re freaking out, say it. If you need a hug?—”

“Oh because that’s what you need?” I snapped. “You want me to cater to what you need?”

“There were no strings attached when I told you I love y?—”

“Stop it,” I barked, staring into the bathroom sink. “Don’t say it again. You know there are strings attached, and you know what I can’t give you. I’ve been perfectly clear about that.”

Mara’s breath was shaky, coming in fast as she got more agitated. “You are worthy of love, Jack.”

I wheeled to look at her. “Would you quit fucking saying that? Love isn’t this thing that’s available and free and given without expectation. I’m so fucking sick of hearing you go on and on about it. You knew what you were getting, Mara. Say it again and this is over.”

Mara’s eyes narrowed. “That’s not exactly easy, Jacques.” I bristled at the name, but she looked mad enough that I couldn’t snap at her again. “We got married. You were the one who begged me to marry you. This was your idea.”

“And I told you,” I bit out, “where I couldn’t help you. I told you not to expect that of me.”

“I don’t expect that!”

“Stop fucking with me!” I said. “You’re just saying it to get what you want.”

Mara stood stunned, blinking hard. “I don’t know what she did to you, Jack, but I’m not her.”

“This has nothing to do with her,” I sniffed. “You want something you know I can’t give you. I’m not going to be that little Romeo for you. I’m not going to write you sonnets?—”

“I didn’t ask you to,” Mara interrupted me, her tone begetting no argument. “I didn’t ask you to say it back. I just wanted you to know that you are loved. That I love?—”

“Don’t say it,” I whimpered, turning away from her and picking at the door frame. “Please.”

“Jack,” she said, gripping the back of my arm and stroking her thumb over it. “You are worth it.”

But I can’t give it back . If I loved, I could be manipulated. If I loved, I could become someone I’m not at the hands of someone else.

Sydney’s voice rang in my head. “What are you going to do, Jack? Leave? And go where? Who else would love you? I’m starting to doubt whether I can.”

And if Mara loved me, she was making a mistake.

I popped my jaw forward, a clicking sound issuing from the joint.

“I won’t say it anymore if it hurts you to hear it. I didn’t want to hurt you. But know that my feelings won’t change. I’m so glad you’re in my life.”

I swallowed hard. “I can’t be here anymore.”

I walked into our room, putting on sweatpants instead of my pajama pants.

“Where are you going?” Mara said, her voice tiny as she watched me get ready.

“To the bar.”

Mara’s jaw clenched and I could tell she was fighting tears, trying to honor my request for her to not manipulate me with crying.

She was trying. I needed to at least try to meet her in the middle.

On my way out the door, I bent to kiss her forehead. “I’m glad you’re in my life too. This is just a lot.”

“Okay,” she said.

She was still rooted in the same spot when I let the door close behind me.

“Hey, man.”

A hand clapped my shoulder at the bar. I was living out some Hollywood fantasy of hanging my head over a glass of whiskey when I was upset.

I turned to find my teammate Guy Stelle, looking concerned. “Do you want to sit with us? We’re just hanging out. No New Year’s shenanigans. We’ll probably be in bed before midnight.”

I could have said no, and I wanted to keep feeling sorry for myself. But I’d already been at the bar for an hour and had three whiskeys. Plus the reminder that it was New Year’s Eve made me realize I really needed to not drown in my misery.

Sydney and I had gotten married on New Year’s Eve. She said it was the most glamorous night of the year and she deserved only the best.

I never would have imagined she’d ruin the date for me forever.

My stomach got so upset when I thought about our wedding that I often felt like I had to shit. I tried not to think about it as much as possible.

I should have known how bad it would be from then. I should have seen the train coming.

But I was desperate. Desperate for someone of my own. My parents had chosen JP over me long ago. Papi was gone. I needed someone just for me.

I stumbled getting off the barstool and Stelle grabbed my elbow so smoothly no one would notice my clumsiness. “Got ya, bud.”

I grimaced as I sat down between Stelle and Obi at the high top bar table. Stelle’s wife Kitty and Obi’s girlfriend Annie sat on their other sides, Annie and Kitty close together. They’d grown up together, Obi meeting Annie while in Stelle’s wedding to Kitty.

And Stelle’s wedding to Kitty was when I told Sydney I wanted a divorce, and she yelled to everyone in the room that I have a small dick, I’m not a man, and I’m a pussy who won’t man up and take control. Oh, and that I like it up the ass.

Something I literally asked for one time just because I was curious.

“Leroy, where’s your woman?” Kitty asked as I sat.

“With the kids,” I mumbled.

“You alright, buddy?” Obi asked, leaning in.

Stelle gave Kitty a look to tell her and Annie to butt out for a minute.

“Fine,” I said.

“What did you get in a fight about?” Obi asked.

“She told me she loves me.” I blurted it out, then felt bamboozled. “Wait, I didn’t say I was in a fight.”

Obi looked smug and sat back, messing with his beer on a cocktail napkin. “I’m a good guesser.”

Stelle chuckled. “Only you would think your wife telling you she loves you is a bad thing.”

I rolled my eyes and flagged the waiter down. “Another whiskey.”

“Nope,” Stelle said. “Get him a Coke, please.”

“That stuff’s bad for you,” I objected.

“Yeah, whiskey’s a health food,” Obi said, trying not to laugh.

“I’m sorry, did I just hear my boyfriend defend soda?” Annie said, leaning in.

“Consider it a late Christmas gift,” Obi said, kissing her cheek.

“Coke’s fine,” I said, turning to the waiter.

Stelle looked around, waiting for Annie and Kitty to return to their conversation. “Anyway, what’s really bothering you?”

I clenched my teeth together. “Everyone who says ‘I love you’ wants something.”

“Yeah, they want you to know they love you,” Obi said. “Is that a bad thing?”

Stelle waved his hand. “No, there’s more here. What makes you uncomfortable about ‘I love you’?”

I realized I was flinching at even hearing the words. They were words I could say to my kids, but I preferred to just show it. Being there for them. Taking care of them. Listening to them.

“Sydney said it a lot.”

Stelle nodded. “To get what she wanted?”

“Yep.”

“That sucks,” Stelle said. “That’ll mess with your head.”

After a pause, Obi said, “Mara seems really sweet.”

I blew some air through my lips. “She is. She just shouldn’t be with me if she wants love. I told her I wasn’t doing love.”

Stelle eyed me cautiously. “Look, I’m no expert, but I think people respond to people hurting them in two ways: completely closing up, and becoming more compassionate.”

“Wait, am I the completely closing up type?” Kitty asked, butting in.

“No, ma puce , you’re perfect,” Stelle said, putting his arm behind her chair. “What I’m saying is, I don’t know when her divorce was, but you’ve been hurt lately and she probably has too. Her heart is open and compassionate, and yours is closed. Neither of you is wrong. It’s just different reactions.”

“That’s pretty smart, Stelle,” Obi said.

“Look at you being emotionally intelligent,” Annie said, crossing her arms over her chest and sitting back like she was impressed.

My Coke appeared in front of me and I took a long drag through the straw. “That’s all well and good, but what do I do with that?”

“Accept her love, and know yours will just take more time,” Obi said, looking to Stelle to make sure he was right.

Stelle pointed to Obi. “That. That’s what you do.”

There was just one problem with all that.

I was a shitty person. I didn’t deserve her love.