Grace

Two

Reece

"That was more than fifteen minutes, Reece," Julieta scowls at me, but comes in for a hug anyway. "You'll be late to your own funeral."

"Sorry." I sigh, sliding into the booth across from her. The dim lighting of the room is easy on my tension headache. "Started work late today, my mental clock's all thrown off."

"Way off." She exhales through her nose and I smirk at how similar she looks to our mother when she makes that face. It's meant to be demeaning, but she's like a nippy little puppy in my eyes.

Small with a big bark.

"I ordered you a drink," she tells me and my eyes hone in on the dark bubbly liquid filling a green tinted, dingy, old plastic cup.

More than likely one of the same dingy old plastic cups I've sipped out of when we were teens. It's nostalgic this place, especially after being stuck in the same grey dim cell block for six years.

"Thanks."

She gives me a clipped nod as she bobs for her straw. "So, what's new in Reece's world? How are you adjusting?"

I blink, but end up shutting my eyes a little longer than need be. Exhaustion is catching up with me. I'm fucking tired, but that's nothing new. Leigh either keeps me up or she disrupts my sleep, and that's how it has been the past two months since I've been home. That's my new norm.

But it beats the old norm, which was waking up in a fucking jail cell every morning.

"Okay..." my sister pauses in response to my nonresponse. "What's up with Leigh, I guess? Any improvements."

"Not one." I shake my head, growing in anger over my own thoughts. Replaying last night and how fucking embarrassed I was for Grace when she witnessed Leigh trying to seduce me.

If I had a dollar for all the times that happened, I wouldn't have half of the problems I do today.

Leigh just has no restraints anymore.

The things she says and does in front of her, it blows my mind.

There's silence until the waiter brings over a plate of mixed starters, but I can see the impending argument broiling behind Julieta's eyes, even while she thanks the man.

The same argument we've had just about every weekend since I've gotten out.

I don't want to get into this conversation today. This is supposed to take my mind off of Leigh and Gracie. This is supposed to be a break from all that I have to tackle back at home.

I'm trying to live a new life, and I feel like I'm being pulled in all different directions by the same old problems.

"Reece..."

"Don't start."

"Just-" she squints, "Why? Why did you go back to that woman? There's literally nothing in it for you anymore. It's not like you two have kids together—and that's another thing, you never had kids. You can't have any with her, not when she's...you know."

"Maybe. When she's better. When she's like she used to be."

"And when will that be? When she's fifty and liver cirrhosis has finally set in? Or when she finally OD's during a bender?"

I dismiss her comment and bite into a buffalo wing, realizing I'm actually starving.

"Reece, I know you have a lot of guilt or remorse or whatever over the way your life's gone up until this point, but you're not a bad guy. You can do so much better for yourself. You can have a better life."