Changing Course (9 page)

"I was just kidding, guys always get so squirmy about a woman's weight. But to answer your question, yeah, I'm a beer girl. I'm sad to report that I'm a light weight. I blame it on my size. Kara says I haven't ever built up a proper tolerance. She once created a daily drinking schedule for me, requiring me to drink an increasing number of shots every night. I did it for the first day and puked on her bed. After that she deemed me a lost cause, and the schedule was gone the next morning." We both laugh, falling into our normal casual comfort with each other.

The waitress returns with our drinks a few minutes later, and when I try to pay her, she tells us that all the drinks are free. Damn, I'm really going to hate leaving here after we have this conversation.

"I'm sorry," I start wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible.

"For what?"

"The other day at Nell's. I was out of line. I had no right to talk to you like that."

"You're right you didn't, but I accept your apology. Thank you."

She takes a sip of her beer turning back to the game just in time to see kick-off. Wow, that was easy. Sarah would have given me absolute hell for hours before finally accepting my apology. Jesse, however, just sits there sipping her beer, peering out of the box's glass windows as the Bears move the ball down the field. No sign of residual anger whatsoever. Interesting. Okay, I guess that part is over, now on to the hard stuff.

"Jesse." I touch her arm to catch her attention.

When she smiles over at me, clearly enjoying the game, I'm floored by how breathtaking she looks. I'm not going to lie, I've noticed that Jesse is attractive. I am a man after all. She's actually really cute. So tiny and innocent. That’s not usually the type I go for, but since I met her a few months ago at Nell's, I've felt some sort of draw to her. It wasn't a sexual attraction, though. The way I feel about her is a lot like the way you would feel for your best friend’s little sister. You know, the one who makes you laugh and you enjoy spending time with, but you tend to think of her as one of the guys more than a woman you would like to see naked. Right now, though, in this tight-ass dress with her long chestnut brown hair draped across her shoulders, legs crossed showing off those incredible boots and faintly tanned thighs, there is no way anyone could describe her as anything but sexy. So, before I have a chance to do something stupid like bending her over the seat and fucking her through the second quarter, I spit out the words that are sure to drive her away.

"I'm married."

Jesse

D
AMN
! I
know I said that I don't curse, but if the moment your date tells you he’s actually married isn't the perfect moment to start, I'm not sure when is.

I stare at him for a second before gathering the courage to respond. "Can you excuse me for a minute? I need to use the ladies room."
So I can burst into tears in private
. Thankfully, I don't say the last part out loud.

"No, wait please."

"I'll be right back. I just drank that beer too fast." I lie as I quickly rise to my feet, ready to all but run out of the box.

"Jess, wait!" Brett shouts as he follows me. I don't slow down. I have to get away for a few minutes to collect my thoughts, and more importantly, my emotions.

How did I not see this coming? Caleb said something the other day about Brett's wife, but I just assumed he was talking about an ex-wife. He specifically told me Brett was not in a relationship. Last I checked, a marriage definitely counts as a relationship.

"Wait!" I hear as Brett grabs my arm and turns me to face him. I know I'm on the verge of tears, so I avoid his eyes by digging through my purse.

"That's really sweet, but I'll be right back. You don't have walk me to the bathroom." I laugh, unconvincingly even to my own ears.

"Just give me a chance to explain."

"You don't have to explain anything to me," I say quietly, dropping my hands to my side, abandoning the imaginary mission in my purse. Not sure I can look him in the eyes without opening the flood gates, I just stare down at my shoes.

"Yes, I do. I feel like I did something that accidentally led you on. That wasn't my intention at all. I think you're a great girl, it's just that my life is such a mess."

"Don't apologize. You didn't do anything wrong." I take a deep breath, finally raising my gaze to meet his. I have no reason to be hurt right now, but that doesn't change the fact that I am. I need to remind myself that he didn't ask me out on this so called date. There is no one to blame for this fiasco except myself, and maybe Kara for forcing me out of the house in this ridiculous dress. Fantastic, I'm dressed like a slut and out on a date with a married man. This just keeps getting better and better. I can't even aim my frustration at Brett. He got sucked into this the same way I did. I asked him to the game, and his best friend made him come. His stupid, lying best friend.

"I'm going to kill Caleb Jones," I mumble under my breath.

"Huh?" He looks confused as I start to get mad.

"Nothing, I just hope you aren't overly attached to Caleb, because I plan to strangle him next time I see him."

"I know that feeling all too well. What did good 'ole Detective Jones do to you?" he laughs.

"He told me you weren't in a relationship," I sigh. "Look, I'm really sorry about all this. This was supposed to be fun, and now it's weird. Can we just forget all this happened? Maybe go back in time to last week before I made a total fool of myself? I had no idea you were married. You don't wear a ring, so I just assumed. Anyway... you can go if you want. I'm sure your wife isn't happy about you being out with another woman right now."

"What else did Caleb tell you?" Brett says in a tone so harsh it could wound, causing me to take a step backwards.

"Nothing. Nothing at all!" I backtrack, trying to figure out the reason behind his sudden mood swing.

Replaying the conversation in my head, I come up empty handed. I have no idea what has set him off this time. It's probably best if I just cut my losses and leave now. He is already going to think I'm a fool, but the least I can do is not confirm it.

"Okay, well thanks for meeting me here today to explain things. I'm going to head out, but feel free to go back to the box and finish the rest of the game. Please apologize to your wife for me. I really am sorry." I turn to walk away, only to feel him grab my arm pulling me to a stop again.

"Stop running away and just let me talk for a minute. Okay?" Sweet Brett is back so rather than open my mouth again, I just nod, fearful of the angry ogre's return.

"I lost my wife in car accident four years ago."

"Oh, God Brett, that's horrible." I gasp, stunned by his announcement.

He doesn't even pause to acknowledge my comment.

"I've never tried to move on from Sarah. I honestly don't even know where to start. So yes, I'm married, but Caleb didn't lie to you. I'm not in a relationship." He finishes and simply shrugs as if he didn't just tell me something so heartbreakingly tragic.

"I'm so sorry." I'm not sure why I'm apologizing, but that's what people do when faced with a death.

"It's okay. You should know that the accident is a really sensitive subject for me and Caleb. Hence the fight last week at Nell's. His fiancé was killed in the car that night." I suck in a breath and throw my hands up to cover my mouth. Tears spring to my eyes. I can’t stop myself from reaching forward and wrapping my arms around Brett's waist. He doesn't immediately respond to my unexpected show of affection.

"Are you crying?" he asks uncomfortably. I don't care though. This man needs a hug.

"That's really sad. You both lost your wives in the same accident. It makes my heart hurt. I can't imagine how that must have felt. God, I am so sorry." He finally wraps his thick arms me. One hand grabbing the back of my head, pulling it to rest on his chest. As the tears run down my face, I feel him ever so slightly chuckle.

I crane my head all the way back to see his face filled with humor. "Are you laughing at me?"

"Well, when I imagined how this conversation would go, it sure didn't end with you crying over my broken heart. So yes, I am," he says, looking down but not releasing me. I rest my head back against his hard chest, sniffling and trying to stop my tears.

"We should call Caleb. I need to give him a hug too." I say, causing him to burst into loud laughter.

"I think it's in Caleb's best interest not to see you dressed like this while trying to hug him. So, how about you just give him his tomorrow." Not completely understanding but not ready to step out of his warm arms, I stay silent.

Brett

O
F ALL
the ways this conversation could have gone, I never once expected Jesse to cry over Sarah. Yet, here she stands, curled into my chest, trying to dry her eyes. I wasn't entirely sure I was going to tell her about the accident at all. But she kept trying to run away from me, and I couldn't stand the idea of her being so upset. This tiny woman brings out something in me that makes me need to protect her. It killed me that she might be hurting. The fact that I was the reason for her pain just magnified the guilt tenfold. This whole screwed up situation is my fault anyway.

There is no way she could have known about Sarah. I haven't worn a ring in years.

Three years earlier
…

C
OVERED IN
my wife's blood, I pace the hospital’s hallways. I've become entirely too familiar with these halls over the last seven months. Between all of Sarah's doctor appointments and her two, now three, attempts to end her life, I know every inch of this hospital. I wish I felt lost here. I wish I didn't belong. But here I stand, staring at the same cheesy picture of a laughing couple captioned with a lame message about getting health screenings to extend your future. I've seen this picture a million times before, however, today it cuts me to the quick.

I could get every test this hospital has to offer, and it wouldn't extend my future with Sarah. No. That was stolen from me. As I try to imagine a future without her, my body physically responds to the panic I feel in my heart. I break into a sweat and I'm forced to prop one hand against the wall to keep my legs under me. I'm not ready to let her go. After today’s gruesome show, I'm not sure I have a choice anymore.

"Detective Sharp?" I hear the nurse say from beside me as I try to calm myself.

"Hey Debra." I look over at the middle aged woman I've met several times over the last few months.

"I brought you these scrubs. I figured you would want to get out of those clothes. I also put some soap and shampoo into the shower in room 228, so you can clean up a bit."

"Thanks, but I'm going to wait a few minutes. I need to get an update on Sarah first."

"She's going to be okay. I overheard the doctors talking about admitting her for a psych evaluation again, but for the most part, they have closed up all of her wounds. I think they are just wanting to talk to her for a minute before they allow you in to see her.”

"Well, that's good news." I breathe out a sigh of relief before going back to my selfish pity party.

"Just go take a shower. I'll come get you as soon as the doctors will let you see her."

"Okay, I'll be quick," I say as she looks at me sadly, her eyes filled with sympathy.

I walk into room 228 finding it decorated the exact same way as the room the day of the accident. I felt so hopeful that day knowing that Sarah was alive. We had cheated death. Literally. Today, only seven months later, I feel nothing but defeat.

I make my way over to the shower and turn it to the hottest setting. I need to feel something. The burn of hot water might be enough to help me wash away this day along with the blood of the love of my life. I look down at my hands, dried blood still settled deep into my knuckles. I did my best to clean up with the rag the paramedic gave me, but I wasn't worried about my appearance as I watched them load Sarah into an ambulance, yet again.

While staring at my hands, I notice my wedding ring caked in dried blood. The symbolism of this moment is overwhelming, even for a simple man like myself. Spinning it around a few times, I try to scratch off the chipping brown with my fingernail. I'm too afraid to take it off. Even just for a minute to clean it. In a lot of ways, this ring is the only thing left of my marriage.