Ex with Benefits (Sequel to Roommates with Benefits) [NEW VERSION]

7. There's nothing left

LUKAS

We're done. Tara's words cut me deep like a jagged piece of glass slicing through the tender flesh of my heart. I felt my chest tighten as I tried to process the finality in her voice. It was the kind of voice that didn't leave room for negotiation or hope — a voice I had only heard a few times before, and each time it had left me shattered.

For some reason, up until now I'd thought — or maybe hoped — that this morning she wasn't serious. It was a fool's wish, really. The signs of a breakup had been there for months if not years. Even before I cheated.

The only silver lining right now was that Nicky was reconnecting with her mom. My bond with her was dead and buried, but at least she could patch things up with her mother. Have at least one good parental relationship.

Heaving a deep sigh, I nodded to myself. No point in pretending, my marriage was over. I'd fought hard for it so many times, yet I'd failed.

I'd only ever loved one time in my life, and I'd always thought it'd be forever. I guess I should have been less of an idealist. After all, love does not conquer all.

While Tara was still holding our daughter in her arms, I walked back to my car, feeling defeated. "I'm going to pick up Zach at soccer practice." I announced to myself more than to them. I didn't expect them to listen anyway.

I wasn't going to give up on Nicky, but for the time being, trying to salvage whatever I could with her siblings seemed easier.

"No need," Tara bit back, still keeping Nicky in her arms, but glaring at me, "I'm going."

I'd been on the receiving end of my wife's cold stares many times, yet this one felt like a final judgment, the closing argument in a trial where I'd already been convicted. Her brown eyes had ceased showing any sign of affection years ago, but right now the steely resolve in her gaze sent a chill down my spine. I'd seen that look before, but never directed at me with such intensity. It was the look of someone who had made a decision and wasn't going to look back.

I stopped in my tracks, my hand hovering over the car door handle. Her words hung in the air between us, heavy and unyielding. This was her way of taking back control, I knew that. "It's fine," I said calmly, trying hard not to let her own anger affect my nerves, "I promised him we'd get pizza."

"No."

"Tara ..." I sighed, leaning against the driver's door.

"You don't get it," she spat, Nicky pressed against her side, "I'm going to go get my son, and I will have to tell him that his father will not be in his life anymore."

Her words struck me like a hammer to the chest, knocking the wind out of me. I felt my breath hitch as I processed the weight of her statement. She wasn't just talking about our marriage being over; she was talking about my role as a father, as if I had already been erased from my kids' lives.

When did this happen? When did my wife start hating me so much? When did the same woman that only ever sang in public one time in her life — to me, at our wedding — become the vengeful person she was now?

"Tara," I began, my voice low and strained as I struggled to rein in my own anger and hurt, "you can't just cut me out of their lives. I'm still their father. I'm not going anywhere."

Her expression didn't soften. If anything, it hardened further, her jaw clenched tight. "You left us a long time ago, Lukas. And we've been just fine without you."

Her words hurt me more than I could have anticipated, like a knife twisting in a wound I didn't even know was there. I felt a sharp pain in my chest, the kind that made it hard to breathe. The same woman who'd promised to love me until death do us part now saw me as nothing more than a stranger, or worse, an enemy.