Free Coming Clean by C. L. Parker Page A

suitcase from the bed and onto the floor. The thing nearly pulled her arm out of the socket, clueing me in to just how heavy it was. Blowing her crimson locks out of her face with a huff, she stood and put those damn hands of hers on those damn hips. Jesus, what had I done this time?
    “Fresh? Because things have gotten so stale around here, you mean.”
    With a sigh, I sat Abe down so his squirmy butt could get back to playing with his Superman and Batman action figures while Mommy and I had yet another strained discussion. “Stop putting words into my mouth, Cass. I was only trying to say a short vacation might do you some good. Maybe for both of us.”
    “My thoughts exactly. Only, it won’t be a short vacation.” She went over to her dresser, rifling through her jewelry box.
    “Oh, okay. An extended vacation. When will you be back?” I started toward the closet to get out of my suit and put on something more comfortable.
    “We’re not coming back, Shaw.”
    Stopping in my tracks, I turned to face her, sure I hadn’t heard her right. “I’m sorry, what?”
    “For once, you actually did hear me. Bully for you, Matthews,” she said sarcastically without looking up. Matthews was what she’d called me when we were at odds with each other.
    “Is this about what I said this morning? Because I didn’t mean it. I was frustrated and running late, and
shit
…I just said what I thought you wanted to hear.”
    “You thought I wanted to hear that you don’t feel the same way about me as you used to?”
    I rubbed my hand over my face, frustrated that nothing was coming out quite the way I wanted it to. “No. I’m sorry, okay? It was eating at me all day. I was going to call to apologize, but—”
    “Something came up. Right?” she finished for me. I’d never seen her so fed up. It unnerved me to the bone. “Something always comes up, Shaw. Always. You have an excuse for not being here. You have an excuse for not showing up on time for our appointments. You have an excuse for breaking promises to our son. You have an excuse for saying hurtful things that you can’t take back. You always have an excuse. And when you don’t, I’m making them for you. Not anymore. I’m done with the excuses. I’m done trying to be the glue that holds all of this together without any assistance from you. I’m done being taken for granted, and I’m done with being unappreciated.” Closing her jewelry box, she stuffed the little travel bag into her purse, zipping it up and hoisting it over her shoulder, and then she turned to face off with me. “I’m just plain done. Clearly, you are, too. So I’m taking Abe back home to Stonington to raise him. At least there, neither of us will be in the way of your rise to superstardom any longer. Enjoy your career. Come on, Abey Baby.”
    The moment Cassidy took Abe’s hand and grabbed the suitcase in her other, my whole world came crashing down around me. She wasn’t bluffing; she was serious. And she had my undivided attention.
    “Stop,” I said, blocking her way. “Where do you think you’re going?”
    “I already told you, Shaw. I’ll call you once we’ve both had time to process this to discuss custody and visitation, but not right now. Move.” She made to go around me, but I stepped in the way again.
    “No,” I said, shaking my head. I was near panic, unable to say or do much more than repeat the same word and action. “No, no, no.” Not my son. Not her. I couldn’t stomach either of them walking out that door. I was going to be sick. Or maybe I was about to have a heart attack because there was this unbearable pressure building in my chest, and shit all over my body was going numb and cold as if the circulation of blood had simply decided it was as done as Cassidy was.
    “You can’t go,” I choked out.
    “I have to go, Shaw. Because I can’t stay. Not like this. I just can’t do it anymore.” She closed her eyes, her shoulders sagging.