The Exception Read online

  “Okay,” I said with a small laugh. “I think that was more than I needed to know.”

  Max and Kari exchanged a smile as they seemed to come to some sort of nonverbal agreement; I felt like I was intruding on a conversation I couldn’t hear.

  “Now that you know about me, I think you should tell me something about you.” Max turned in his chair to face me.

  “I have nothing that shocking to share,” I promised, trying to think of a way to change the direction of the conversation. I knew nothing about him. I didn’t know he even existed until five minutes before. I was at a complete disadvantage.

  “I didn’t say it had to be shocking,” Max said.

  We were interrupted by my cell phone buzzing. I snatched it up quickly, breathing a sigh of relief—until I looked at the screen. My heart tumbled to the floor in a spectacular fashion, its beat increasing rapidly.

  Decker’s number was flashing across the front, sending a jolt of anxiety through me with each pulse.

  I didn’t want to talk to him. That was the last thing I wanted. But if Decker was in a mood or had been drinking, there was a good chance he would call over and over until I answered or he fell asleep. If I turned it off, Kari would know something was up. I really had no choice, given the situation.

  “I need to take this,” I said, standing up. “It was nice to meet you, Max.”

  “Who is that?” Kari’s face twisted in suspicion.

  I shook my head dismissively. “It’s no one, just a friend from Chicago. You remember Heather? She has my résumé and was planning on sending it around up there. I was expecting her to call.” I pushed in my chair and headed for the door.

  She nodded, but I knew she was not buying what I was selling.

  JADA

  I dashed to the front door, the ringing phone dead weight in my hands. I swung open the glass, walked through, and shut it tightly behind me.

  The buzzing stopped and began again immediately.

  “Hello?” My blood pounded through my veins as I waited to see which Decker I would be dealing with—the sweet, playful side I had fallen in love with or the hateful, condescending part I loathed.

  As I waited for him to speak, I shook my head at my own stupidity. Regardless of his reason for calling, the conversation wouldn’t end well. It never did; that was the one consistency of our relationship.

  I filled my lungs with precious air, reminding myself to be strong.

  Don’t let him sense any weakness.

  “Hey, Jada. How are you?” The Northeastern accent that I originally found so endearing only served to annoy me now. It was a reminder of the nights when he would come home angry, the nights I would pretend to be asleep and prayed that he would just pass out.

  “I’m good,” I said, chewing on a fingernail. I walked down the sidewalk, needing to put some distance between myself and the house. I didn’t want to risk Kari hearing this conversation. She had no idea what I really dealt with in my marriage. No one did. It was devastating and embarrassing, for one. For two, my friends would have asked why I put up with it.

  Quite frankly, I couldn’t explain things that I didn’t understand.

  Decker could go from a decent husband one minute, bringing home takeout so we could watch a movie together, to an irrational lunatic the next, backing me up against the wall while yelling every insult he could think up. It was my own personal hell.

  His back-and-forth was dizzying and confusing. I would find the nerve to leave and then he would switch again. He played on my insecurities, manipulating me like the master manipulator he was. He would point out that I would be starting over with virtually nothing. Was I willing to throw away everything we had built together? Didn’t I want to start a family? Didn’t I mean what I said before the officiator?

  He knew the things that made me reconsider walking out. It was an endless, exhausting roller coaster that I couldn’t get off of … until I literally walked in on the truth.

  I knew the cheating was happening; I had known that down deep for a long time.

  My heart splintered with each thrust Decker delivered to our neighbor as she held on to my dresser with both hands. As he pushed Sarah over the edge of ecstasy, he pushed me out the door.

  The difference was that I had not just suspected it—I had witnessed it and it was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

  I called my friend Mandi and moved my things in with her that night after Decker went to work. Her husband, Mason, was a professional fighter; it was the safest place I could go. Decker had never hit me, but I wasn’t sure what his reaction would be.

  As I feared, he went ballistic. He begged me one minute to return and cursed me out the next. In one drunken binge, he showed up at Mandi’s door. I’m not sure what transpired between Decker and Mason, but he didn’t come back. He just complicated my life from afar by fighting me on the divorce.

  “You can’t make it on your own. You’ll be back.”

  I rolled my eyes at the memory.

  “How are you?” I asked, making my way down the sidewalk.

  “Ah, I’m okay.” Ice clinked against a glass. “Just thinking about you.”

  “Oh, really? What brought that on?”

  “I found some pictures today in the back of our closet.”

  I smiled sadly. “Yeah, I left those there.”

  Decker was quiet for a few moments. I knew the conversation was getting ready to turn and I fought the urge to disconnect the call.

  He needs to hear, once and for all, to leave me alone. I am safe here.

  “You don’t want them?” The sadness in his voice hurt me. The self-help books called it co-dependency, but, to me, it was just being a human. I had loved him for a long time, before he was this Decker. I couldn’t just forget that.

  “No, I don’t want them. It is easier to try to forget everything, I think.” I worried my bottom lip between my teeth, hoping this wouldn’t set him off. Every word was a gamble when he was drinking; an arbitrary line could be crossed at any time.

  He chuckled into the phone, a hint of anger surfacing in his voice. “Really? You don’t want to remember me?”

  I let out a long breath as I slowed my pace. I needed to focus.

  Stand up to him. Don’t back down.

  “Honestly, no. Not really. That wasn’t exactly a happy part of my life. You of all people should know that.”

  “You were never happy with me? You can really say that?”

  “I don’t know why it matters at this point.” I shook my head, feeling the exhaustion that accompanied dealing with Decker begin to creep into my bones.

  “I miss you,” he whispered.

  “Don’t do this.”

  “You know we were great together. We had some bad times, yeah. Everyone does. But just admit that we had some great ones, too.”

  I continued walking, contemplating what he said. All of the good memories now had a big question mark on top of them.

  I let out a breath I didn’t realize I had been holding. I felt noticeably less guilty than I normally did when he tried to manipulate me and I smiled at the realization. Maybe I was making progress.

  “We could have worked everything out. You didn’t give me a chance.” The anger in his voice was heavier, his tone more accusatory. A few months before, I would have started backtracking, trying to find a way avoid the confrontation that was about to happen.

  But that was then and this was now.

  “You have got to be kidding me,” I said, entering the park and spotting a picnic table. “I gave you so many chances it isn’t even funny.”

  “You just didn’t want it to work out.”

  I recoiled at his accusation, my blood beginning to boil. “How can you even say that? I put up with so much from you! So many nights I sat at home, scared you were going to come barging through the door, irate about something stupid. And how many times did you cheat on me? How many before I walked into our bedroom and found you fucking Sarah? I ignored so much, De
cker,” I seethed, the words pouring from my soul, “in order for it to ‘work out’. I put up with so much more than anyone ever should! And all that ended up happening was that you made a fool out of me!”

  “Jada—”

  “Do not ‘Jada’ me!” I had never felt free enough to truly defend myself before. My heart pounded in my chest as a weight lifted from my being. “You made me feel like I was worthless for so long! But that is my fault because I let it happen.”

  “If you would’ve kept me happy at home, this could have been avoided.”

  “Fuck you,” I bit out, catching him off guard.

  “Well, well, well. You move away and you get all ballsy, huh?”

  “It’s hard to be ballsy to someone much larger than you when they’re breathing down your neck, intimidating you all the time!”

  “I don’t know what you are talking about. You seem to have a case of revisionist history going on,” he laughed into the phone. It only fueled the fire that has started to burn inside me and I reveled in the feeling of being able to let it smolder.

  “I’m sure you do think that.”

  “When you are sick of playing house with your sister, maybe I will still consider taking you back.”

  “Oh, if only I could ever be so lucky—”

  “Don’t get cocky with me.” I knew his eyes were changing, going from hazel to a dark whiskey. He was sitting taller, his jaw tight. It was like clockwork when his voice deepened like that.

  “I should’ve left you a lot sooner than I did.”

  “Don’t act like I’m some kind of monster, Jada. I gave you a great life. You are having some early mid-life crisis or something. You’ll come back to your senses soon enough.”

  “Yeah. You’re right. It’s all my fault,” I said, my head held high despite the words that I spoke.

  “You better watch it.” His voice was almost a whisper, quivering with the fury he was trying to reign in.

  The power between us had shifted. Whereas he had always had full control, it was now split. I knew he felt it, too.

  “Or what, Decker? What are you going to do to me now? I’m not your wife. I’m not your girlfriend. I’m not your anything!”

  “You’re so full of shit. You will always be mine. Do you hear me?”

  “I’m pretty sure you have a piece of paper that says otherwise.”

  “I only agreed to it in the end so you could see what life is like without me, you dumb little bitch! Once you see what it is like to pay your own bills, to make your own decisions, you’ll be back. You aren’t capable of making it on your own.”

  “You’re such an asshole, you know that?”

  “Maybe, but you will be crawling back to this asshole within a few weeks.” I could hear his grin and I wanted to wipe it off of his face. “You better just pray I’m willing to take you back.”

  I took a deep breath as I watched two little girls enter the park. Their ponytails bounced as they headed towards the grassy field. One of them tossed a giant yellow ball on the ground and they began kicking it back and forth, laughing. I was distracted by them, their happiness almost tangible and I wanted to reach out and grab ahold. I was reminded of the joy I used to feel before I lost who I was, before I let my self-image be destroyed.

  The two girls raced around the grass, their giggling tickling my ears, and I suddenly found myself craving that feeling like never before. I wanted to feel happy. I wanted to feel joyful.

  I wanted to feel alive.

  “Maybe,” I began, turning my attention back to the phone. “But I wouldn’t hold my breath if I were you. Just stick with what you do best. Go to work, drink some whiskey, and fuck a bunch of whores. And lose my number.”

  I swiped the phone off and stuck it in my pocket.

  If I let him rob me of happiness, I let him win. And he’s taken enough from me. All he has of me now is a box of photos and my phone number.

  I had begun reclaiming my life and the only thing left to take back was my happiness. I knew that was going to be the hardest thing to claim.

  It felt just barely within my reach. My fingertips could brush against it if I extended my hand as far as it could possibly go, but I wasn’t sure I could grab it, make it mine.

  I wasn’t sure when the last time was that I was truly happy. It may have been in Vegas with my girlfriends a few months before college graduation. We had drunk too much, danced too much, and laughed too much—and it was perfect. Then again, it may have been the day before my fourteenth birthday. Mom and I had gone shopping for spaghetti noodles for my birthday dinner. Then she took me to the mall for a new outfit to wear to school the next day. We picked out a light green dress with yellow swirls and pockets on the sides. She said it was very “Jackie-O”.

  I only wore it once.

  With one final glance at the little girls with the yellow ball, I started the walk back to Kari’s. Grabbing my phone from my pocket, I turned it on and punched in a few numbers.

  “Hello. This is Jada Stanley and I need to get my phone number changed, please.”

  JADA

  The beat of the Mariachi music lifted my spirits as Kari and I sat at a table at Blanca’s, our favorite Mexican restaurant. We had been regular patrons in the “pre-Decker days,” as Kari liked to call them. I thought of them as “the good ol’ days”.

  “I’ll have the ensalada de pollo,” I told the waiter over the sound of clinking glasses and silverware.

  “What about you?” Julio looked at Kari, straightening his nametag absentmindedly. A group of men at a corner table began cheering, taking Julio’s attention from Kari. The entire restaurant broke out into laughter, which only encouraged the men, and they waved as they danced in their seats and began humming along with the music.

  “I’ll have that, too,” Kari replied as the commotion in the corner settled down. She took a sip of the large strawberry margarita sitting in front of her. Julio took our menus and retreated to the kitchen. The smells of spices flowed out of the archway; my stomach rumbled at the appetizing aroma.

  “I’m so glad you came home! I have missed this so much,” Kari said, sipping her drink again. “I would have been mad if you had gone to Heather’s. Just so you know.”

  “I’ve missed this, too.” I relaxed back into my chair, enjoying the peaceful feeling that was starting to settle over me.

  My conversation with Decker earlier that day had cemented the direction of my thoughts. I had stood up to him and survived, and that was a tipping point for me. I realized that the past was the past. I couldn’t change it, but I could learn from it. And that’s what I was going to do. I would go forward—tentatively, maybe, but forward nonetheless.

  Just be rational this time. Think things through. I have to think with my head and not my heart.

  “No, you didn’t,” Kari said, flipping through the little drink menu on the table. “You were too far up Decker’s ass to miss me.”

  “I’m not arguing with you.” I flashed her a cool look, warning her not to press the issue.

  “I don’t want to argue with you, Jada. But do you realize how bad he was for you?”

  “Obviously. I walked in to find our neighbor bent over my dresser, yelling out my husband’s name while he slammed into her from behind. I’m pretty sure I get it.”

  Kari made a face. “Well, I hope so. I’d hate for you to be missing him because I’d have to kick your ass.”

  “The alcohol is making you bold. I swear I will make the waiter take your margarita if you don’t stop.” I shook my head, seriously considering my threat.

  “Aw, let’s not do that,” a deep voice rumbled behind me. “Tequila usually makes her fun.”

  My head whipped to the side as Kari choked on her drink. Max stepped into my line of sight and reached over and gently patted her back, a smirk finding his lips as he looked down at my sister.

  His long legs were clad in a pair of dark jeans. He had a black t-shirt stretched across his broad chest and a black baseball ca
p sitting backwards on his head. His dark green eyes were trained on my sister.

  “What are you doing here?” Kari asked, regaining her composure.

  “This is a restaurant. Logic would say I’m having supper.”

  “Oh,” Kari said. “Well, okay. I just wasn’t expecting to see you tonight.”

  “I’m sorry to disappoint you.”

  “No! You’re not disappointing me.” Kari’s eyes went wide as she reached over and grabbed Max’s arm, making his smirk grow wider. “Um, do you want to join us?”

  Kari’s eyes darted to me, silently asking if that was okay. I nodded faintly.

  If nothing else, this should be entertaining.

  Max glanced at me and winked, knowing he had just won a small battle. “I’d love to join you.” He sat down and took his hat off, placing it on his lap.

  I briefly questioned if this run-in had been a total coincidence, but pushed it out of my mind when Max motioned across the restaurant.

  “Hey, man! Over here.” Max waved an arm over his head before turning his attention back to us, his eyes shining. “I was meeting a friend here for a beer and a bite to eat. I hope y’all don’t mind.”

  The little hairs on the back of my neck stood at full attention. I had the overwhelming sensation that I was being watched. I felt vulnerable—like prey on the verge of being captured.

  I looked to my tablemates and their eyes were focused across the room. I glanced at the neighboring tables. Women’s heads were all turning like dominos; all gazes were focused on the same spot.

  What the hell is going on?

  “Hey, Max.” The voice to my left was low and rumbled through me. I dropped my gaze to the floor, trying to still my pounding heart.

  His voice was smooth, confident, with a touch of grit—the kind of voice you could listen to all day and never hear enough. The air was infused with a spicy, earthy scent—notes of cedar and possibly tobacco lingering in the air. The combination was heady. Whoever was standing beside me was pure, unadulterated male.

  My body heated at the influx of sensations and the feeling of his eyes on me.

  A pair of dark boots was a few feet away from my chair, and as I moved my eyes up slowly, I found dark denim covering a set of muscular legs. A brown leather belt wrapped a trim waist. A blue button-up shirt was tucked in, hinting at the hardness that lay beneath the fabric. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled to his elbows, exposing an expensive-looking watch and a set of tanned, powerful forearms.