“Or,” Chase interjected. “You could sell that monstrosity and get something you can afford.”
Nick huffed. “Yeah, Sammie would love that idea.”
“Who gives a shit?” Chase sputtered. “Tell her to get a job or something if she wants to bitch about it.”
“Chase,” Nick barked. “You can’t talk like that about my wife—”
Chase groaned. “Ah for fuck’s sake. Somebody needs to talk like that about her. You have been miserable for the better part of two decades and if you had the balls to be honest with yourself about it, you’d know exactly what started it.”
Nick got a sudden, instinctive urge to leap from the chair and strangle his best friend, but he didn’t. Chase was right, and Nick knew it.
Instead, he rubbed his hands over his face in frustration, then dropped his chin into his palm.
Chase lifted his palms in anI told you sogesture, then softened slightly. “You’re a decent guy, and I know you’re trying to do the right thing by sticking it out. But staying married simply for the sake of staying married when you’re both miserable isn’t fair to either of you or to Ari. It’s not healthy for a kid to grow up in a home where her parents are silently hating each other.”
Nick clenched his jaw as his heart twisted in the face of what he knew was probably the truth.
“It’s not too late to start over,” Chase went on. “Just rip the bandage off. Do the deed, then sell the house. That way you can fix this place before it gets any worse. You’re running out of time and options.”
Right then, Nick’s phone buzzed on the desk with an incoming message. He glanced at the screen. It was from Sammie.
I swear if you leave the pool cover open one more time I’m going to wring your neck. The pool is now full of mud from the flowerbed.
Nick hastily flipped the phone over and then opened his mouth to respond to Chase when the building quaked violently and the sound of shattering glass exploded from the other side of the office door.
Nick leaped out of the chair and the two men darted out of the room to find the source of the chaos.
His jaw fell open as he stopped short in the dining area to discover that a corner of the room had collapsed into the hillside below the restaurant. He and Chase gingerly approached the ledge and peered over the side. A river of muddy water rushed below the building, carrying pieces of what appeared to be support beams and other pieces of what used to be the foundation of that corner of the dining area.
“Holy shit.” Nick pushed Chase’s shoulder to back away from the ledge.
“Well,” Chase said after they made it to a safe area in the front of the restaurant. “If you were looking for a sign, I think you found it.”
Nick stared back at the gaping hole. The once spectacular view in the corner of his formerly beautiful, perfect restaurant was now a sludgy wet mess of broken glass and splintered, rotted wood. Neglected for so long that it had become irreparable beyond the point of no return.
Just like everything else in his life.
* * *
After dealing with the fire department and a rep from his insurance company, Nick didn’t make it home until after ten. He hadn’t bothered to call Sammie. He was totally, completely, utterly defeated.
There was no fixing the restaurant. And after replaying Chase’s words in his mind for almost twelve hours, he’d realized there was probably no fixing his marriage either.
But he wasn’t going to throw in the towel.
He would stick it out because that’s what you do. Nobody ever promised that life would be easy or fun or even happy all the time. Although, their life seemed to be happy almost none of the time. Still, he couldn’t give up now. Especially not in the face of what would be major changes in their lifestyle.
No, this was definitely not the time to address those issues, either by ending things or trying for the umpteenth time to fix them.
He stepped through the door soaked from the still raging storm, and ambled into the kitchen, then immediately grabbed a beer out of the fridge.
“Ahem,” came Sammie’s voice from behind him. He took a swig as he slowly turned around and leaned against a counter. She was seated at the kitchen table with what was probably a cold dinner, arms folded in front of her, wearing a cross expression.
He didn’t bother saying anything to her. He knew she’d have plenty to say. And he was right.
“How nice of you to join me,” she said snidely, then gestured at the table. “Have a seat. I’m sure you’re starving since you’re even later than usual.”
He took another swig and stayed where he was.
