All this Time

Gabby part 2

11th January

We drop Lydia off at momma's without much of an explanation for either of them, but when I tell mom that this is about Josh, she doesn't ask more questions.

Nathan drives and for the most part, it's quiet, tense. I thought the anger would wear off in the time it takes to get to Denver, but the more I think about Lydia and her pain, the worse it gets.

It's dark when the car pulls up outside of a small townhouse in Rino Denver. A steep set of concrete steps lead up to the front door and I stare at the worn blue paint and brass numbers as I unbuckle and reach for the door handle. Streetlights illuminate the footpath and cast shadows through the tree branches.

Nathan rests his hand on my thigh. "Let me know if you need me."

Leaning over, I kiss him, grateful he's here. For a moment, I take him in, drink in the comfort he provides, the promises and support. I could tell him I love him right now, the words are sitting right there, on the tip of my tongue. But now isn't the right time because when I do tell him, I want us to have the time to bask in it afterward.

There's a sharp knock on the window and I twist around in my seat to find Josh standing outside, looking at us with utter confusion.

"Gabby?" He looks past me at Nathan and then he peers into the back seat before gracing me with his attention again. "What the hell is going on? Where's Lydia?"

I'm swinging open the door, almost knocking him over with it, before I can even think about what I want to tell him. No, not just what I want to tell him, what I want to scream at him. I'm tempted to break his fucking nose.

He rears up on the pavement and I'm vaguely aware of Nathan getting out of the car behind me. But when I take a quick look back, I notice he's opting to lean on the car with his hands in his pockets. He's here, but he's letting me handle this.

Just the threat that he provides is enough.

When I look at Josh again, his brows are furrowed at Nathan. "Is that—"

"Your time is up, asshole," I shout, letting whatever comes out of my mouth take the lead. "You wanted to live some fucking bachelor lifestyle, fine, that's fine. But I have a little girl at home who misses her dad, and I'm not taking the heat for it any more."

Josh has the decency to flinch with guilt when I mention our daughter. It's not enough though. Nothing will be enough until he's back in her life.

"Look, Gabs," he slips his gloved hand into his pocket and that's when I notice the clothes he's wearing. Designer, all of it. The slacks, his big coat, even his beanie has Tom Ford across the front of it. Good to see what he's doing with the cash he saves on child support. "I know what I did was fucked up."

I scoff, looking at the pavement for a moment of composure. It doesn't help. When I meet his pathetic stare again, I start to laugh. "Fucked up? Fucked up? Re evaluate the meaning of fucked up, Josh. Abandoning your daughter is a conscious decision. Not a whoops. You are a fuck up. But you don't get to make it sound like some sort of accident."

He swallows, shifting his weight on his feet. "I wasn't happy. Isn't it better to be honest and make changes. Did you want me to be miserable?"

For a moment, I'm so stunned, I can't even respond and then I'm screaming at him. "Leaving me, I could've handled. You walked out on our daughter. Lydia. Do you have any idea how hurt she's been? You didn't have to leave her too."

He drops his cowardice stare and then looks at the house, gesturing to the door without raising his head. "Should we take this inside."

"No, bitch," I shout, getting in his face. "You don't want the neighborhood to know what a dead beat you are, don't be a deadbeat. I'm not interested in seeing what your new slut pad looks like."