Dead Flower (Sequel to The Flower Girl Book Two)

Chapter 31: Time to Fight

                                      Andrew

My stomach cramps up at the words that liter the perfect piece of paper. She's really fucking serious about going through with this divorce. I thought maybe a few weeks would simmer her down, then she'd miss the hell out of me. We would talk it out, then fuck each other's pain away.

It's my fault. I should have fought harder for her. Gone ahead and tracked her down, forced her to listen to my side of the story. She's tired of listening. Veronica read what she saw. What she saw wasn't the finished text. See, some pages were ripped out of the book, and she didn't get to read all the parts that lead up to that point.

Guess I should invest in something nice to wear. That's the least of my concerns. I need a fucking lawyer. I don't care if Veronica takes everything from me. As long as she doesn't take my little girl. I will not be like my father. A nobody who was never there for me. I can't believe I'm about to do this, but I really need a drink.

                                         <\3

At the bar, I glide my fingers over the clear glass. The liquors puddles to the bottom. This bar is too beachy, cheery. I miss the bars back home. Where everyone is miserable. Here, tourists smile and laugh.

Throwing the shot back, the bartender is right there to assist. "Another?"

I nod my head, not in the mood to be polite. When am I ever though? Women around me dance, but I don't pay mind to them. The last woman broke my heart, it's still fragile. In the past, I'd round up some bitches and fuck the hurt gone.

How would that help when I can only picture my sweet girl while doing it? Veronica will be the reason I cum. She always had been. Damn. To think about it, she was the only girl to steal my heart away.

The bartender places the glass back down in front of me. Right as I'm going to swallow the contents, a hand smacks the back of my shoulder. "Hey bud."

Usually people are elated to see their friends. I don't really consider this man a friend. We work together, and I'm just using him. I need someone to talk to. "Hey. Thanks for coming."

"Don't be such a puss. No problem." He must have just gotten off work. Still in a button up shirt and black pants. The tie has been removed. That's how they know we're off the clock. "What's up man?"

The liquor is getting to my bloodstream. I'm terrified that tears will fall into the beverage. "My wife...she's fucking gone. She took my baby with her." I collapse, at least my head does. Into my elbow, I rest.

Hand still on that drink, and I don't know why. It's not helping me feel any better. "Andrew, it'll be alright. Tell me what happened." He pats my shoulder one more time.

"That Aubrey bitch!" I shoot up in the seat. Grabbing the glass, I down the liquor, then throw it across the bar.

"Hey!" Eyes stare at mine. I don't flinch. "Get out."

I'm ready anyway. "Let's go man. You need to cool down. Come on, let's go walk."

Staggering down the sidewalk, I explain everything to him. My filthy thoughts about fucking her, the bathroom incident, the kiss in the garage, every fucking thing. Even her obsession with me. The rape. "I can't lose my wife!"

"Calm down Andrew. It's normal to think sexually about other women. You didn't do anything. She did. She kissed you. Took advantage of you. Aubrey is sex on legs, but damn, you have that marriage that everyone wants."

I laugh. Bullshit. No one wants what we have. Our pasts made us paranoid. I take everything out on my wife. "I don't know what to do."

"Do nothing." WHAT? Nothing?! Is this brown eyed bastard insane?