My shoulders slump. “You saw the video, Harvey. Are you really asking me that question?”
He runs a hand through his hair. “I thought you guys worked through it.”
“We worked through the lie he told me,” I say, and the words feel like fire in my throat.
“What lie?”
I swallow hard. “He told me about her… but he made it sound likeshecame onto him. That nothing happened. That they didn’t even kiss.”
Harvey’s jaw tightens. “So, he lied.”
I nod. “I forgave him for her. I can’t forgive him for lying to my face.”
He drops his gaze, shame for his brother weighing down even his usually proud shoulders. “Can I ask you something?” he says quietly. “I’ll take him. He can come home with me. Just… don’t tell him it’s over. Not yet.”
My mouth opens, but he keeps going.
“He needs hope. Please. I know he doesn’t deserve it, but let him have that much.”
I stare at his pleading eyes. “Lauren will be fine with him moving in with you?”
Harvey looks away fast. “She… uh. Lauren moved out.”
The word rips out of me. “What? When?”
He swallows. “A while ago.”
I narrow my eyes. “Before the promotion ceremony?”
He nods once.
I knew there had to be a reason she didn’t attend the ceremony, even though she showed up for the dinner after.
I exhale slowly. “Okay. But I’m not lying to him.” I shake my head. “I won’t throw it in his face, but I’m not lying either.”
Patrick
I don’t know how long I stay in the cold garage. Long enough for the light outside the windows to disappear, for every breath to burn in my lungs. It’s pitch-black when the door to the house swings open, spilling harsh light that blinds me for a second.
I push up on unsteady legs as Harvey steps out and flicks on the overhead light. The bulbs buzz to life, washing everything in a yellow glare. He tosses a duffel bag at my feet.
I swallow hard. “What’s this?”
He just stares at me, his expression flat and unreadable. “You’re coming home with me.”
“What?” I shake my head. “No.”
He crosses his arms. “Not your decision.”
I move toward the door, planning to shove past him, but he clamps a hand around my forearm and stops me cold.
“Think about what you’ve done,” he says quietly. “Give your wife at least this much. Leave without making a scene.”
I turn toward the house, toward the faint sound of Milo’s cartoons drifting under the door. “They’re my family.”
Harvey steps closer, lowering his voice. “Then get better for them. Lorelie’s pregnant. She can’t handle the stress of getting you sober too.”
My jaw locks. “I’m not a child who needs to be watched.”
