The Funny Thing Is

The Funny Thing Is... Maybe Is Neither Yes or No... It's Simply Maybe

In life, there are those questions that pop up that have definitive answers, yes or no. There are those rare occasions where a gray area ceases to exist. You can mull it over, stall, debate with yourself back and forth, but eventually, you have to make a decision. Yes or No. This was one of those situations. Even though I knew maybe wasn't a sufficient answer, it was the best I could do at the time.

"You said `I love you too'?!?" Spencer asked emphatically as we stood in line of a concession stand, waiting for our turn to order overpriced hotdogs and lemonades that were mostly ice.

"I said a lot of things," I replied.

"I'm gonna dwell on `I love you too' for just a second."

"What was I supposed to say?" I asked.

"I dunno... how about `get the fuck out, traitorous bastard'?" Spencer said harshly. I looked around, embarrassed by the blatant use of profanity at a school sponsored event.

"I just... I didn't know what to say to him," I told my friend honestly. I did love Chase, but that didn't mean I wanted him back, and that was the part Spencer didn't focus on. "When it comes to Chase and what happened, it's just not that easy."

"Cooper, what's difficult about it? The guy left you for twenty years. He finally shows back up and the two of you last something like one week? I mean, even Angelina Jolie stuck around after she home wrecked Brad and Jen."

"I know that, but it's not that simple. I do love him," I told Spencer. "And it's not your everyday kind of love."

"Okay, sap alert..." Spencer rolled his eyes as he reached out for our hotdogs and drinks

"He inconveniences everything. And even when he's not around, he's a bother to me," I said. I squeezed ketchup onto my dog as Spencer pulled a flask out of his back pocket and poured Southern Comfort into our lemonade cups. "Isn't that what we're all looking for? The kind of love that doesn't make any sense, whatsoever? And when it hits you it complicates everything, and you can't just turn away from it? I just... I couldn't tell him no."

Spencer looked at me like you would a small child, who touched a hot stove twice. If Chase knew how to do one thing, it was make it hard for me to walk away from him. He had been that way at the beginning and he was certainly that way now.

The clincher, and the part I couldn't tell Spencer, was how Kyle fit into this whole melee. If Spence knew that I had slept with Kyle while I was still entertaining the idea of taking Chase back, he would have murdered me, cut up my body, and sold it for parts. Of this I was sure.

"This is what I was thinking," I said.

"Good to know you remember how," Spencer jabbed.

"Who said it had to be black or white? Marry him or break up with him? You know, when he came back, we should have taken things so much slower. We should have dated and courted like we did the first time. I should have put up a sex embargo."

"You are incapable of putting up a sex embargo," Spencer said. "You are like the NATO of fucking. You pick two or three people and you just fuck them over and over and over, and you can't stop. And if you tried to get out of the deal, all shit breaks loose."

"Are you reading again?"

"What I'm saying, Cooper, my dear friend, is this is murky and it makes me really uneasy."

"I hear you," I replied. I shrugged. "But it's Chase."

It was my only defense, and I was aware that it was a shallow one. Saying `because I love him' worked for teenagers and characters in trashy 90's Rom-Coms. This was my life, and I had to have more than that to base a relationship on.

"You know what you need?" Spencer asked. I gave him a nod. We picked up our bounty and walked back towards the executive boxes on the top level of the Highland Park High School stadium. "You need to be single for a while. Ask someone out on a date. Don't sleep with someone for a change. Just live the single life."

"Because it's working out well for you."

"Hey, I'm happy. I love not asking myself where something is going after breakfast. It's... refreshing."

The thought of it made me nervous. I hadn't been single in a million years. I didn't even know if I knew how. But I couldn't say yes to Chase just because I was afraid of being alone. And I couldn't say no to him in the event that I wanted to explore that inconvenient love somewhere down the line. Maybe Spencer was right. Maybe I did need to be single for a little while.

"I think I'll just stop having sex altogether," I said finally, nipping the whole thing in the bud.

"You know what? You joke, but I support that for you. We'll have weekly circle jerks to keep each other honest," Spencer teased, pouring a little more SoCo into his cup as we walked. I'm not sure he realized we were at a high school football game, not a Lady Gaga comeback concert.

We discussed the perks of single life as we made our way through the throng of Highland Park football stadium to our box just before the second half kickoff began. The box was beautiful, as was the field. It could easily have passed for a college facility, and with all the money that the parents, alumni, and tax payers threw into it, I was glad to be getting my money's worth in an air conditioned box overlooking the fifty yard line.

And there on the field was my daughter. She looked amazing in her uniform. The skirt was shorter than I would have liked and the kicks a little higher than I deemed appropriate, but damn if she wasn't a star!

The game was much more fun because of how tipsy we got during it, mostly from Spencer's cocktails but also from the executive boxes beer and wine garden. I gave enough money to the school to have called in this favor. Normally, I would have sat in the bleachers, but I didn't want Devon or Liz to know I was there at the risk of shaking things up too much. When Highland Park beat Southlake-Carroll 21-7, we slipped out the back and Spencer's car service drove us home.

By the time Spencer's town car dropped me off at my apartment, I was tired, drunk, and lonely. I ran a bath as soon as I walked into the apartment, thinking that maybe if I lounged about enough, I would sober up before bed and avoid a serious hang over in the morning. I had a few errands to run, including meeting with Mason to go over the press strategy for my divorce.

As I sat in the bathtub with a lukewarm beer, I contemplated my options. There was Spencer's celibacy advice. Was I capable of dating? Was I capable of meeting someone at my age and striking a connection with them that didn't start with sex? The thought alone made me nervous, but I couldn't pin point why. Going back on the market would be like admitting that the last twenty years had been an utter waste. If I returned to the same place I was when this whole thing started... where I would I end up?

And then there was Kyle. He was yet to offer up any sort of emotion to our arrangement and for all I knew, he was taking his thing with Winston more seriously than I thought. But at the back of my mind, I knew Kyle and I knew he was holding on to something between us. I could just feel it in my gut.

Finally, there was Chase, the guy who I just couldn't forget. He just wouldn't go away. The realist in me was at war with the romantic in me. Why was I even considering talking to him again? Why did I even give him the open door and tell him that, yeah, I did love him? He didn't deserve any consideration and he certainly didn't deserve any of my love. The decision should have been clear, but unfortunately, it was as murky as my bathwater.

I decided to call Chase first and give him my answer.

"Hey," he answered on the first ring. He sounded like a school girl who had been sitting by the phone waiting for me to call, or maybe that was just the image I wanted to conjure in my overly romantic brain.

"Hey," I said breezily. "What're you doing?"

"Just sitting in my hotel and wondering what to do on a Saturday night. Any ideas?"

"I hear Alexander's makes a good martini," I said slowly.

"Tried them. They're okay," he replied. "Listen, Coop, I didn't mean to scare you off with that gesture, I just knew I needed to do something big and romantic to get you to listen to me."

"I heard you loud and clear, Pal."

"Okay then. So where do we go from here?" He paused. "I'm assuming you aren't saying yes to my proposal over the phone."

"Look, there are a million things that I have to figure out right now. And I can't figure them out with you lurking in the shadows," I said. "I have to sort through my feelings one by one and see what the best way for me to live the rest of my life is going to be."

"I understand that," he replied. "And I want you to take as much time in the world to do that. But I want you to know, I'm not going anywhere. And I'm not going to stop trying."

It was the perfect thing to say from the perfect man. It should have warmed my heart considerably, and in truth, it did make me warmer towards him than I had been in a while. But my heart was still as cold as the bathwater I was sitting in and that feeling wasn't going to go away for a while.

"I think I would be disappointed if you did," I replied, throwing him a short bone. It was the best I could do at the time, especially when my mind was on the other half of the equation.

I called Kyle just as my water was turning cold and I was contemplating getting out. The conversation with him was intentionally very different.

"Hey, Coop," he answered on the second ring.

"My bathwater is cold and I was wondering if you'd like to come over and warm it up with me," I said in a low voice. Trying to be sexy wasn't my strongest suit, but I had little to work with over the phone.

"Cold, you say?"

"Yessir," I replied. "My tub isn't as big as yours, but I'm sure it'll fit two."

I smiled to myself as I waited for his answer. It took longer than I was okay with, but he finally said he'd stop by Ace's and pick up a bottle of wine and be over in half an hour.

I got out of the tub, drained it and ran fresh hot water. I scurried around the apartment, completely naked, picking up some of the candles that Chase had left behind for me to clean. I put them strategically in the bathroom, lit them for mood and turned off the lights. I set up two wine glasses on the floor, crawled into the water, and waited.

Forty minutes and a dozen mind changes later, Kyle finally used his brand new key to see himself in. He was wearing jeans and a white t-shirt, carrying a brown bag with the Pinot, and smiling at me.

"This is a sight," he said. Both my arms were draped along the edge of the tub, and I sat up, motioning for Kyle to come over. He quickly kicked off his shoes, pulled off his pants and shirt, undid the wine and slid into the bath across from me.

"I'm glad I got screw top," he said as he opened the bottle and poured us both a glass. As soon as he was done, I leaned forward and I kissed him. The kiss was hard and heartfelt. It was the opposite of the slow and deep kiss Chase had given me exactly twenty-four hours prior. This kiss was more needs-based. It was animalistic, primal in nature and hotter than the water we stewed in.

Kyle reached between my legs and grabbed hold of my dick as I leaned in further and further towards him. He pulled on me a couple of times, smiling right into my mouth, and I knew there wouldn't be much foreplay.

I stood up, hoping Kyle would stand with me. Instead, he leaned forward in the tub and took the length of my dick into his mouth effortlessly. He looked up at me with big beautiful brown eyes as he sucked me in deeply, creating a vibrating sensation with his moan of appreciation. I felt like a huge tool standing over him like that, but the position was a turn on. I put my hands on my hips and let Kyle go to town.

I stopped him before long, not wanting to spend all I had in his mouth. I pulled him up as we kissed so that we were both wet and drip drying right into the tub.

We smiled, tickled, and laughed our way to my bedroom, getting every single one of my thousand threads wet as we plopped down in a heap of kisses, neck licks, and nipple bites. Kyle was everywhere, and in turn, I had to be everywhere to match.

"Oh fuck," I moaned when Kyle gave my dick one solid squeeze. "You want that babe?"

"Fuck yeah," Kyle panted. He slid forward so that we were face to face, his legs straddling my hips. He planted a wet kiss on my forehead, reached behind him and grabbed onto my dick. "I want you to fuck me, Cooper. Fuck me hard."

I smiled up at him, and a second later, I slid into Kyle's waiting hole. He sat up and rode me like a cowboy, holding onto the wall behind my head to steady himself. I simply laid there and enjoyed the ride, his ass working up and down my cock like a Friday night stripper on a pole. Every once in a while, Kyle would stop bouncing and he'd move his hips back and forth, creating a pleasurable variation that had me writhing, clutching my sheets, and gritting my teeth.

I bucked my hips up, grabbed onto to Kyle's impossibly tiny waist and ground deep into him, almost elevating him off the bed completely.

"Oh fuck, Cooper!" he shouted as I came into his ass. "Fucking cum, babe. Fuck me."

The force of my orgasm was intense. It was so hard and ground-shattering that I was sure my down pillow had teeth marks.

My sheets weren't spared either, receiving an ungodly amount of Kyle's seed splattered all over them, creating dark spots on my blue cotton.

In our older age, our recovery time post coitus had gone up dramatically. It was for that reason I was so surprised to see Kyle spring up and pull his pants out of the bathroom a minute after he came. I was still trying to catch my breath and Kyle was ready to catch a cab.

"Where are you running off to?" I asked, trying not to sound needy.

"Winston and I are going hiking in the morning, so I figured I'd sleep over there," he said with a heavy breath. I sat up and pulled the sheet over my bottom half.

"Wait a second. You came over here to fuck me and now you're running off to your boyfriend's?"

"You called me," he replied nonchalantly. "Where's my other shoe? Did you kick it under the bed?"

He bent over to check and I scooted out of bed, pulling my sheet around me.

"Are you freaking kidding me?" I asked, not sure if I believed what was happening. I was in the middle of making one of the most crucial relationship decisions of my life, and Kyle was going hiking.

"What's the big deal? And where the fuck is my shoe?"

"Why are you keeping me at arms-length, sir?" I asked, my voice lower and louder than usual. It was an honest question and I wanted an answer. I wasn't upset; I was frustrated. I was proposed to and I had said wait because I wanted to see what was going on with Kyle. He had gotten first dibs and he was ready to stomp his hiking boots all over that.

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about this, Kyle. Are you seriously telling me that you're okay with this? Sleeping with me and then actually sleeping with Winston?"

"Cooper, I told you..."

"That was before."

"Before what?"

"Before I started falling for you again," I answered truthfully. The words came right out, unfiltered and unstoppable.

"Coop." He stood up, holding a shoe that had somehow made its way under my dresser.

"You're finally right here, Kyle. Right in front of me, and I... I wish you had been this close all along. So why are you pushing me away?"

He looked at me with those deep brown eyes and he saw right through me. "Cooper, you're a wreck. Your life is falling apart. Your marriage is completely over. And I thought I was doing you a favor..."

"Oh my god..."

"... by being here for you. I'm not letting my guard down just because you're ready to draw the bridge."

"Kyle it's you and me; there are no guards," I said. "You were there when I first had doubts about my marriage. You were there when I had doubts about getting married at all."

"And I'm still here, Cooper," he said. He took a step towards me and put his arms out. "I'm right here, sir. But you haven't given me a reason to get any closer than this. I'm not gonna throw everything with Winston away so that you can crawl back to him when he apologizes and whisks you away."

I glared at Kyle, gritted my teeth, and took in a sharp breath. I had nothing to say to that. I guess I had hoped that I still had a little trust left to cash in, but according to Kyle, that bank was closed.

"Kyle, give me a reason to forget about him," I commanded. It was all I wanted from him, I realized. Everything I'd done with Kyle since Chase left was a cry for help. I needed a reason to say no to Chase, and Kyle was it. He was the only one who could fulfill that purpose.

"The fact that you're still searching for one makes me know for a fact that this will never work."

It was the equivalent to having a door slammed in my face. I suddenly felt the urge to vomit.

"You will always be drawn back to him just like I have always been drawn back to you."

The stabs just kept on coming.

"And if I let it, Cooper, I will never move on, just like you can't. I will spend the rest of my life chasing after you. God, you are my Chase fucking Pallendrino and the difference between you and me is I get that. I get that I will always want you. I get that I will always wonder what if you had picked me. But I am tired of waiting for you to pick me."

My face was hot. I was embarrassed and upset. I was vulnerable and now I was rejected.

"Then why come here?" I asked evenly.

Kyle shrugged and tilted his head to the side. "Because I'm human, Cooper. But I'm not stupid." He slipped on his shoe. "I have to go."

I sat down on my bed as Kyle slipped his shoe on and left. I heard the door click and I fell back on the bed, rubbing my eyes and wondering why I had been so fucking dumb.

Nothing good had come from fucking Kyle, and I should have seen that from the get-go. It was cloudy territory, murky at best; and lying there, I couldn't help but wonder if murky was now over.

But at the end of the day, Kyle was more than right. Chase was my Chase Pallendrino. He was the one I would always come back to. He was the one that I would always benefit from my doubt. He could soften my heart with a romantic gesture. A phone call from him in a bathtub and I was liable to run across town. As I lay there thinking it was probably best if I broke it off with Kyle and stopped torturing him, I just couldn't get over that tiny seedling of unbridled love that had snuck into my heart.

"How do I look?" I asked, turning to face Kyle. When I needed help getting dressed for the Kappa Senior Banquet a few weeks before graduation, there was only one person I felt like I could ask.

"You look smashing," he said with a smile. He took a step towards me and repositioned my black bowtie with tiny white mustangs on it. I felt ridiculous any time I had to dress up, and dating a Kappa meant I had to get dressed up a lot.

Helping me put together a stylish monkey suit wasn't the only reason I called Kyle over. When the bowtie was on and the cummerbund tightened, I still had one thing left to ask him.

"What do you think of this?" I asked. I pulled out a small Tiffany blue box and opened it in front of him. His gasp was audible and his surprise was crystal clear.

"Um... it's beautiful," he said. He looked up at me with a confused look on his face.

"Yeah? You like it?" I asked. He turned away from me and nodded.

"I'm flattered, but I don't think it's my size, sir," he said casually. I didn't need to see his face to know that he was desperately trying to crack a joke to hide a different emotion altogether.

"Yours is still on layaway," I said taking a step towards him. "Do you think she'll like it?"

"I think any girl would die over a ring like that from a boy like you," he said. He turned back to me and his face was as taut as ever. "Do you think you're ready to be engaged?"

"I think we've been dating for long enough, and if I'm going to keep seeing her, I should make her a promise," I said earnestly. "I love her."

"I know you do," he said. "But, Cooper, this is a big commitment. What you're saying is that you will never love anyone else the way that you love Devon for as long as you live."

I took in a deep breath. He was right. I was saying that. I was getting ready to ask her for her hand in marriage in front of her entire sorority. I was asking her for her entire future. I was asking her to be more than just the friend who helped me get over a boy. I was asking her to be my wife.

"He's not coming back, Kyle," I said to him softly. "And I love Devon. It makes sense and I just... he's not coming back."

Kyle nodded at me.

"You look really good tonight," he said with a weak smile that I should have read more into than I did that night. "You really do."

Saturday was another day of epic erranding. I looked at every single one of my student's response papers, surprised at the quality spectrum. Some students really surprised me while others made me wonder if they'd ever written for college before. Two students clearly plagiarized, and after one internet search confirmed it, their names were sent to the academic dean and the Honor Code Committee.

As soon as I was done with that, I cracked open the yellow paint that was sitting in the second room upstairs and I went to work on Liz's wall. They'd be with me in a week, and if I pulled the right strings, they'd be able to spend the weekend at my condo. I had precious little time to get everything up to snuff before then.

The phone rang at about six, just as I was touching up the edges of the last corner. I had yellow paint everywhere, from my hands to my rolled up jeans and splatters in my hair.

"Hello?" I panted into the phone without checking the call screen.

"Cooper," the voice said. It sounded desperate.

"Devon, what's the matter?"

"I umm... it's CJ. He's going insane over here," she said. She was a shade from hysterical. Her voice sounded like the eye of a hurricane. If anything happened in any direction, she would lose her cool.

"I'm on my way," I said without hesitating. I slipped on a pair of Sperry's as I tried to gather information from Devon.

"He wanted to go out tonight and I told him he was still in trouble from his little running away stunt," she explained. I was halfway down the stairs to my car at that point. "And he flipped out on me, Cooper."

"What did he say?"

"Is that important?" she asked sharply. "He threw his shoe at the wall. He said it wasn't his fault that everything was getting screwed up around him. He accused me of... he said I was forcing him to stay in because I was afraid of losing him like I had lost you."

The little shit, I thought. We had had a discussion about treating his mother with respect and tact during all of this, and the paint, literally, was yet to dry on that topic and he was already throwing another tantrum.

"Where's Liz?"

"She's at Britney and Sebastian's," Devon replied.

"Where is CJ now?" I asked. I was rounding Lemmon trying to decide if I should hop onto the freeway for three exits or take my chances with the lights and go for the straight shot.

"He's in his room. He has music up really loud and he won't open the door," she said. I felt terrible. I felt more than terrible. This wasn't how CJ behaved, it never had been. He was your typical kid, but lashing out and getting angry wasn't part of his M.O.

I kept Devon on the phone, trying to talk her down as much as possible. Ten minutes and six green lights later, I pulled into my old driveway and sprang out of the car. I could hear CJ's music as soon as I stepped into the house.

"Cooper," Devon said. She gave me a hug despite how disgusting I was from painting all day. I couldn't remember the last time I had seen her look so tired. We embraced for a respectful second before I raced up the stairs and banged on CJ's door. His sign that said `My Domain' rattled against my fist.

"I told you to leave me alone!" he shouted. "I'm not coming out until you let me go to Jake's house!"

"Cooper James, you open this door right now," I said sternly without yelling too loud. I heard the music lighten up a little bit.

"Go away!" he shouted. It wasn't as fervent as before, and his hesitation indicated to me that he knew he was in trouble regardless. He was standing his ground because it was the only thing he knew how to do.

"Go away? Really? Are you sure about that kiddo?"

"You're already gone, Dad. What the hell are you even doing here? You don't fucking live here."

"Wow, keep talking, son," I shouted into the door. "At first it was just the party. Now I think we'll take away your game console; how does that sound, Dev?"

"I think the game console is a grand idea," she replied, catching my drift.

"And if you don't turn that music down, your radio is coming with me as well."

We waited a second for a response. The ball was in his little locked door court.

"I'm not coming out," he said with much less conviction this time around. We'd clearly broken and he would fold any minute now.

"What was that I heard, honey? Does he want us to take his TV too?"

A second after I said the words, the door cracked open.

"I don't want you to take my TV," he said sticking his head out of the door.

"Why look who it is," I said sarcastically. "Wrap up the game console and your music player and meet your mother and me downstairs."

"Dad..."

"Hey, I don't want to hear it. One more word and I'm taking the TV too. You have five minutes, let's go," I said sternly. I turned and walked down the steps with Devon behind me.

"Cooper, isn't that a little extreme?" Devon asked as I led her down to the informal living room.

"Dev, this behavior, this taking advantage of the situation, needs to be nipped in the bud," I replied. "If we give him an inch, especially now when things are so messy, he'll make a mile out of it."

"But this isn't any of his fault," she protested.

"And he knows that. And he'll continue to play that up," I said. "I need you to trust me on this, please, doll. I was a thirteen year old boy at one point, too."

Devon snorted. "Don't play that card," she said, shaking her head. "You're not the CJ whisperer, Coop. He's my son and I know how to handle things."

"He's our son, and I didn't say that you didn't," I said. I was irritated by the whole situation. If she could handle things so expertly, why did she call me on a Saturday night to come and handle things? I had half a mind to tell her that if she wanted me 500 feet away on a daily basis, she couldn't pick and choose when to pull me across the line she'd drawn. As much as I didn't want to be a part time parent, it wasn't fair for her to treat me like one when it was to her advantage.

"Look, all I'm saying is, if we aren't firm on this starting now, he'll continue to act out and it will only get worse," I said sternly. I wanted to go further, but it wasn't the time nor the place to show how this proved I didn't need to be on restraining order from my kids.

We sat in silence for nearly five minutes, waiting for CJ to come downstairs. He had that faux look of remorse plastered on his face that I had mastered when I was a kid. He carried his radio under one arm and his latest high tech game console under the other. I remembered the days when I would have needed a basket to pack up half of my electronics. His fit easily in two hands.

"Have a seat," I said, not affected by his look of sadness. He sat down, more pouty than I'd ever seen him. "Look at me, please. CJ, this is unacceptable, and you know it. What were you thinking locking yourself in your room, cursing out your mother, and acting like a three year old?" He sat quietly, not giving us any indication that a response was coming. "This would be when you tell us what you were thinking."

"I don't know," he replied quietly. "I just really wanted to go to Jake's."

"And you thought that somehow I would let you after you were so ridiculously disrespectful?" Devon chimed, joining my side like I knew that she would. We had disagreed on parenting before, but at the end of the day, we were always a united front when it mattered. This was one of the cases where I was so confident I was right, that she had no choice but to go along with me.

"No."

"Ma'am," she added.

"No ma'am," CJ replied. "I just... I don't know. You were barely listening when I asked you if I could go. You didn't even give me a chance to explain that it's not a party, it's just a bunch of the guys hanging out and playing Warrior Revolutions. It's like you don't want me to have any fun in the first place."

"Kiddo, your mom came home and you had a girl over, remember that? We don't want you to be miserable; we just want you to be responsible. And until you can behave responsibly, you're right, we don't want you to have any fun," I said.

"Okay, Dad, I get it. I messed up with the whole Samantha thing and I shouldn't have sassed mom tonight."

"Did that sound like an apology to you, honey?" I asked, looking at Devon.

"Not so much," she replied.

"I'm sorry, Mom," he said, his voice low, like we'd beaten him or something. "Can I go back upstairs?"

"We're gonna work on your apology skills, killer," I said as he stood up. "Um... leave the game. Leave the radio."

"Dad..."

"Uh, uh... a punishment is a punishment. Let's go."

"How long are you keeping them?"

"You know better than to ask me that," I said with one eye brow raised. I had always hated my parents ambiguously timed punishments when I was growing up, but the older I got, the more I realized my dad might have been on to something. I used to put specific durations for their punishments, but I never followed through or kept up with the dates and they caught on quickly. Since then, I'd employed a totalitarian method of doling out punishments, much like my dad before me.

We both watched CJ shuffle up the stairs. I was somewhat surprised he didn't make a pit stop in the kitchen first. That would have been more like him. When he was up and gone, Devon turned to me and started talking before I had a chance to say anything. I knew we couldn't sit back and enjoy a parental victory. Instead, she started in.

"Listen, Coop, thank you for racing over here," she said softly.

"Yeah," I replied, irritated again. Was she really about to get sweet with me when forty-eight hours prior, she ripped the rug right out from under me? "I would have been here sooner if I didn't have to wade through all of that paparazzi that's following me around."

She pursed her lips tightly. "I might have deserved that," she said, her face slowly returning to its more naturally stoic demeanor. The sweetness never lasted. She took in a deep breath and I knew I was in for a speech. "You know why I did all of that in court back there?"

"No, Dev, I honestly have no clue why you would try to strip me of every single paternal right I have."

"You hurt me really bad, Cooper. And I know you don't see that, because I had photos and I had a game plan, but when I saw our marriage crumbling six years ago, I made provisions. And I can't apologize for that. My clinic wasn't as successful as it is now. The kids were even less equipped then, and you were a loose cannon.

"And when you came home so cavalierly and told me you were leaving because he was back... that just hurt me so much. I couldn't see anything but red; I wanted to..."

Kill you. I knew they were the next words had she not started crying, showing more emotion with three tear drops than I had seen out of her in years. I swallowed a rock hard lump in my throat, overcome with sadness at how much I had affected her.

She swallowed, took in a deep breath, and looked me in the eye.

"It's hard watching something you've fought for, for so many years, go up in flames." She shrugged, giving me her justification for taking my kids away. It made sense, I had to admit. It wasn't ideal, but she was justified. But she had to see, especially tonight, that harboring that anger towards me and using it as a weapon wasn't the best thing for any of us involved.

"Devon, I am sorry I hurt you. I would give everything I have to go back in time and protect you from what's happening now. But you have to know that I didn't leave you for him. I left you because of us."

She looked at me deeply, and I felt like she was looking into the crevices of my soul. She took her time, shaking her head slightly back and forth.

"For the longest time, when we were dating, you used to say his name in your sleep," she said softly, with a hint of a smile. "You did. You would sleep like a baby and I would wake up to go the bathroom or something, and you would be calling after him. And it would annoy me, and I would ignore it. And then it stopped. And then that look in your eyes like you were thinking about something else when you spoke to me, that look vanished. And then you said you wanted to marry me."

"Devon," I tried to stop her from peeling back still scabbing wounds. This wasn't a conversation that I wanted to be having on a Saturday night, especially without a bottle of wine in hand.

"When it stopped, I had hope that I was forever. That he was a distant memory and that I was your present and your future; I really did. And I know what everyone is going to say about me when this hits. I know they're going to call me an idiot for believing that someone like you could actually forget about him long enough to fall in love with me. I know it. I think I'm an idiot too. But I never expected you to leave me the minute he stepped foot back in your life."

And that was the crux. To her, to everyone, the events would be forever linked, and for that, I deserved everything I had coming to me.

"Devon, I am sorrier than you can even possibly imagine. And I know that sorry doesn't even begin to cut it. I want you to take everything. Have it all. But do not do this to our kids," I pleaded. At the end of the day, we could pretend that it was about Devon and my relationship, but it really wasn't. It was about what was best. It was about a girl who hadn't told me she was dating my best friend's son because she couldn't look at me long enough to form a complete sentence. It was about a boy who was more confused than he'd ever been, and who didn't have a rock to lean on about it.

I knew I had caused it, but she had to acknowledge that by keeping me away, she was making it worse. I wasn't going to sign on to be an emergency disciplinarian when things got rough. That clause wasn't in the divorce order.

Devon flicked a tear out from under her eye. "Um... uh. Let's deal with this on Monday. I will call you at some point on Monday," she said. She stood up and crossed to the kitchen, clacking her heals along the hardwood floor.

I saw myself out, drove home, and poured myself a stiff vodka and tonic.

The next morning, I sat down with Mason's proposed press release after a long run and an even longer shower. His plan was purely offensive. He was going to send the Associated Press wire, along with the Dallas Morning News and the Fort Worth Star-Telegram, an official statement declaring that I was seeking a divorce and begging the press for privacy while my family and I dealt with a personal matter. As I read it, feeling like Elizabeth Taylor must have felt at least five times, I prayed that the request made on the release would be granted. The last thing I needed were folks at Belo or McClatchy coming down on me about this.

Just as I was about to message my edits back to Mason, my tablet rang with an incoming call from Spencer.

"Hey," I answered. His face appeared on the screen. He was shirtless, his hair pulled back, and his face was shiny from sun screen or tanning lotion. From the rocking motion his end of the phone was making, I knew that he was on one of his three party barges.

"I know you aren't missing the pool portion of my party," he said loudly. I could faintly hear music playing in the background.

"Spencer, I am so not in the mood to socialize right now," I replied.

"Which is why you should be socializing," he countered. It was classic Spencer logic. "Listen, God made friends and booze for one reason. To lift us up when we are down. Come on, even Bass is here... sans Britney. The coast is clear. Please come to the lake. If I have to hear Kyle ask for you one more time, I might kill myself."

I looked into his pathetic attempt at puppy dog eyes and I softened.

"Ughhh..." I started to protest.

"Good, I'll see you in twenty minutes," he said with a triumphant smile. He knew that if my strongest protest was a barely audible sigh, I would be there. I hung up, went to my room, took a quick shower and got dressed in my favorite blue speedo and linen pants to go over.

I spent ten minutes looking at myself in the mirror, wondering if I could still pull off a bathing suit that small. The small pouch under my pack of two wasn't protruding and my thighs were yet to look too bad when they came together. I was a far cry from the effortless teenager who ate whatever and never worked out. I was middle aged, but I wasn't going to throw my speedo out until the cellulite and sags kicked in in earnest.

The drive to the lake was oddly serene. Maybe going to this thing was a good thing. Maybe a little unwind was what I needed.

And unwind was what I did. I hadn't been at the party for more than ninety seconds before I had a drink in my hand and Spencer around my neck.

"This, my friend, is the life," he said. We hit our glasses and I sipped in a deliciously refreshing Pink Panty Dropper from a trashcan in the corner.

"Look who decided to join," Bass said, giving me a big hug. He almost sloshed into me as he approached, indicating that he was a few drinks in. On the rare occasion that Britney let Sebastian get drunk, my friend was a sight to behold. I sipped quickly to catch up with them, so as not to be annoyed by them.

By the time I saw Kyle, I was two cups and two shots in. I was definitely tipsy, verging on drunk, and I had been under the sun for forty minutes.

"Are you avoiding me?" I shouted, hopping to the third barge and plopping down next to him.

"Of course not," he smiled. He looked at me with a big smile that didn't quite connect with his eyes. "I'm glad you came."

"Me too," I said. I looked into his eyes and I felt at peace. It was a beautiful deepness of brown and wisdom and I could get lost in those eyes.

I'm in love with someone else. I had told my son that. At the time, two faces flashed in front of me. At the moment, one stood out.

"I heard you were asking for me," I said casually, trying to gauge exactly where we were after our fight earlier. I knew it was impossible for Kyle to keep me that close and yet push me that far away. If it was hard for me, there was no way he was able to do it. I would have bet anything that his emotions had doubled, maybe even tripled, since we started hooking up again.

"Yeah, I did," he said, looking around at the two more packed barges. "I just wanted Spencer to make sure you came."

I smiled at him sexily. I knew making out there on the boat would be a terrible idea, but I tried to let him know that I wanted to, using my gaze and my body language.

"Listen, Coop, I just wanted to apologize to you in advance," he said, his voice serious and low. He wasn't drunk, I noticed then. And I was. I got the gut feeling that something wasn't going to end well.

"Apologize for what?" I asked, trying my best to clear my cloudy head. Whatever was in the punch was strong, but I needed my wits about me if Kyle was going to act that way.

"After our... thing the other night... Winston and I had a really long discussion and we came up with some solid decisions," Kyle replied. It was all he said and I wasn't getting the entire picture.

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying I want to apologize in advance," Kyle said. He looked deep into my eyes and I got it, loud and clear.

I felt like I was sitting there staring at him for an hour or two. When I jolted back to reality, it was because Spencer had stepped onto our boat, rocking it severely to one side.

"Hey, Kyle," Spencer said loudly, unaware of what we were talking about it. "Coop's here, so you and Winston can go ahead and make your announcement. People are getting pretty sloshed, so you'd better do it now."

Decisions.

An announcement.

It spelled one thing, and it made me want to hurl myself overboard and never resurface.

Instead, I held my breath, and waited.