Forever and ever 2. The adventure starts now.

Part 151.

Tom's pov~

"Shit, you're softer than a girl. Lea never agreed to go to couple's therapy with me."
"Maybe because she was a bitch. And whom of you came up with couples therapy in the first place?" Sam's chuckle quickly died down.
"Oh, this has nothing to do with being a girl or not. I think it's more about commitment and love."
"Nah," Sam interjected. "Come on, man." He shook his head, not wanting to indulge in Harrison's cheesy talk, which I couldn't care less about.
"In the end, this shit doesn't matter anyway. You just can't trust cheaters anymore." But Sam only said that because his relationship had fallen apart. If he were still to be with Lea, if off-on or not, his opinion would look utterly different.
"Don't speak so poorly about Y/N, man. Zendaya forgiving me was the best thing that ever happened to me," Harrison, on the other hand, seemed 110% committed to me not being an asshole to my wife. He gave me a whole prep talk earlier, telling me to make en effort for us, Y/N and me, but shit- one look at her and all I'd see is Clark by her side.

"I say, forgive her," concluded the blond-haired one, while Freckles thought, "take a break," as if it were the solution. But neither of them had any idea what they were talking about. Sam's relationship had gone to hell, and Harrison was the one who cheated instead of being cheated on.
"So let me get this straight, my brother from fallen town says I should take a break because it worked so well for him, and my best friend, who's also a cheater, thinks I should forgive her?" Did they hear how ridiculous they sounded? "You both are dickheads. That's my thesis."
Harrison then threw a pillow at my face, and Sam tossed a handful of nuts he was snacking on. It couldn't bother me less than stepping on 'em again, because it was Sam's house where we were chilling, and apparently Lea had offered to move out after the crap she pulled. At least that's how he explained it to me earlier when he put Lily to bed.
I got up when the bottle of Coke was empty in my palms. Sam mentioned he's been trying to drink less lately, yet I'm pretty convinced he only said that because he noticed my struggles with alcohol again. If there was one of my brothers who would truly know about it, it had to be Harry, who couldn't make it tonight though, because he was taking Ciara out on a date. They were the only one in our entire friend group with a healthy relationship, aside from Hero and Jo. But, fuck them all, I didn't need all this happy couple crap.

"Well, it was nice hanging out with you guys." I grabbed my jacket from the couch, turning to the two guys who looked a bit downcast. "You're leaving already?" Sam asked, and Harrison waited for a response, debating whether he should leave too or stick around a bit longer.

"Yeah. I want to say goodnight to Parker before he goes to bed."

"Fair enough," Sam nodded, understanding the paternal instinct.

"Send my regards to Y/N," Harrison extended his hand for a handshake, and I accepted it, shaking hands. "You know I won't do that." The last thing I wanted was to run into Y/N. How would I even look talking to her now?

"It could be your chance," he insisted, suggesting I could start a peaceful conversation. We had discussed this all evening, and even though I had briefly considered whether Harrison might be right, I stuck firmly to my stance. I hugged Sam goodbye before heading home.

I despised the marble kitchen counter, which quickly became damp, and I detested the crooked paintings on the wall, which were easily pushed aside after a little romancing. Or maybe I didn't mind any of that, and I simply hated any memories that reminded me of Y/N, which seemed to be the case with every object in our house. Perhaps I hated the entire house.

Y/N was sitting on the couch when I walked in, her head in her hands, her hair tousled from doubtful massaging, and her makeup slightly smudged. It wasn't until I slammed the door shut that she looked up and found me in the doorway. My first instinct was to ask if everything was okay; after all, she didn't look like she was doing well. I should have knelt before her and begged her to speak up so I could comfort her and hold her in my arms. But I was an asshole, and assholes didn't do that, did they?