Page 109 of The Rules of Dating

My forehead wrinkled.

Stan took a few steps away and grabbed something from next to the cash register. Then he tossed a business card toward me.

I squinted to read it.

Walter Potter

Attorney at Law

Divorce Specialist

“He’s good and cheap. Maybe he can get you one of those annulments or something.”

I shook my head. “I wish it were that easy.”

Stan studied me for a minute. “You get the girl pregnant or something?”

I finished off my glass of tequila and shrugged. “Yeah, I guess I did.”

“That’s tough. When is she due?”

“Four years ago.”

Stan’s entire face wrinkled. “Sounds complicated.”

“It is.”

“Well, you already know I’m no expert on marriage, so I can’t give you any advice on making that work. But I can tell you one thing—sometimes staying together for the kids is more damaging than the effect of a separation. I give you credit for trying to make a go of it. But never forget that kids learn by watching, not by you telling them how to act. So if you haven’t already, start living by example.”

As if I didn’t already feel like shit. The last thing I’d want is for my daughter to get herself into a predicament like this. I was sure Stan meant well, but he wasn’t helping. So I pushed my glass forward. “Think I can get a refill?”

He nodded. “Sure thing.”

A few hours later, I was so shitfaced that my new buddy Stan cut off my alcohol supply. I tossed whatever bills I had left in my pocket on the bar and grumbled that I was going somewhere else before staggering out. But when I hit the street and attempted to walk, I wasn’t so sure I could keep upright without some assistance. So I held one hand against the brick on the outside of the bar and skooched along the street, leaning my weight one step at a time. It probably took me ten minutes to go all of four buildings and get to the corner, only to realize I was fucked because I wouldn’t have a building to lean against while I crossed. Rather than get run over by a cab, I thought maybe I should sit down for a few minutes, which is exactly what I did. I slid my back down the last building on the block and sat on the disgusting New York City street.

Just as I got comfortable, my phone buzzed in my pants pocket. But my inebriated state kept me from being coordinated enough to dig it out before I’d missed the call. Reading the name of the missed caller, the nausea I’d experienced earlier today came flooding back. Billie. I fucking hated what I’d dumped in her lap. Nevertheless, I didn’t want her to worry, so I hit the button to call her back.

“Hey.” She sighed. “How are you?”

“I’m gucking freight.” No, wait…that’s not right. “I mean I’m gucking freight.”

“Oh boy. You don’t sound like you’re doing too well. Or should I say not wooing dell.” She paused. “So…I guess it happened?”

“You mean, did I sell my soul to the devil?” I frowned. “Yeah, I did.”

Billie was quiet for a few moments. “It’s going to be okay, Colby.”

Her voice was so tender that tears streamed down my face. “It’s not going to be okay. You know why? Because you don’t deserve this shit.”

“Neither do you, Colby. Neither do you.” The line went silent again, until I heard her sniffle.

Fuck. “Please don’t cry. I can’t fucking take hurting you like this.”

“I’m sorry. I should be the least of your worries right now.”

“Can I see you?” I asked. “Saylor is staying at my parents’ house tonight.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Colby. Not tonight anyway. But maybe tomorrow? I just know I’d be even more emotional if I were to see you right now, and you need a good night’s sleep.”