Date: Fri, 22 Jul 2011 10:56:12 -0500
From: Jonothan Wolf <jwolf24450@gmail.com>
Subject: The Funny Thing Is Chapter 3

**Standard disclaimer applies. This is purely fiction (if based only
slightly on actual events). Don't read if you shouldn't because you're
under 18 or live in a backwards area. This is a continuation of The List.
It isn't necessary to read The List, but it would help in understanding
characters and references. I appreciate any and all feedback, so please
email me at jwolf24450@gmail.com. Enjoy the story!

       Chapter 3: The Funny Thing... I never expected things to be the
exactly the same.

	We all go into situations with our own expectations. Whether
they're for the better or for the worse, we all expect things to be one way
or another. When I left Devon and had to say goodbye to my kids, I expected
things to be one way with Chase. I never expected things to go back to how
they were twenty years ago, but, well... I didn't expect this either.

       The next three days were a complete blur. I perused classified ads
online in between lectures the next day, narrowing my list down to five
completely different but possible places. I asked Chase's opinion at dinner
in his suite that night and he said he had only one criteria: a pool.

       "You've gotta have more opinions than that," I said, slightly
annoyed. I'd slaved over finding those places; I needed him to have some
thought about them.

       "Okay," he said, sliding into the bed next to me. "It has to have a
pool and high ceilings. I'm tall."

       I took off my reading glasses and glared at him.

       "Well then you'll like this one, killer," I smiled tightly. "Two
stories, the living room has a vaulted ceiling. The whole thing is kind of
an open layout. It's going into the definitely check out pile."

       "I'm bored with all of this," Chase said restlessly. He kissed the
side of my neck as I put my glasses back on and flipped to option number
three. One and five were out. Two was in the definitely pile; it was
between three and four to check out.

       "If you're bored, eat a cookie," I said sarcastically.

       "I'd rather... eat something else," he said. He slid his head down
to my lap and gave me wicked eyes as he fiddled with my button.

       "Chase, I'm really not interested in being homeless," I said,
looking down at him. "I have every intention of seeing these places
tomorrow. Before my wife throws me out of my house. I'm sorry if the idea
of not living in a hotel forever bores you."

       He sat up, not looking extremely happy, but I could tell he
understood. It must have been tough for him being walled up with very few
friends in the city and very little to do. I was sure by the end of his
first week in town, he'd already swam every pool within a 20 mile radius. I
looked him deep in the eyes, put down the papers and brought him in for a
kiss.

       "As soon as we find a place, we'll be free to do whatever it is we
want," I said. I put his head on my chest.

       "Why don't you just move in here for now and not worry so much about
it?"

       "I can't have my kids over at a hotel," I said. I had no intention
of starting the divorce proceedings without demonstrating that I was taking
my kids' lives into every consideration. A judge would look at me
purchasing a loft in their neighborhood, close to their schools, and have
no reason not to give me shared custody. It was paramount that I find a
place so that they could stay in my life.

       "I was disappointed you didn't come over last night," he said after
I explained that to him. Clearly, Chase only had sex on the brain and I
wasn't going to get anything done until I satiated him. I tossed the papers
and my glasses aside, and slowly unbuttoned my shirt. He lifted his head to
see what I was doing.

       "I told you I felt weird coming over here after just moving out," I
said. "It felt... tawdry." I smiled at him.

       The lights inside turned on and a second later, Chase was lying on
top of me, grinding his face with mine. I felt his bulge almost
immediately, and I reached down to slip off his workout shorts. He was
wearing only a jock underneath and I smiled into his kiss.

       "Since when do you wear a jock?" I asked. He sat up and gave me room
to peel out of my slacks.

       "Since I started cross training," he said. He stood up over me,
looking like a giant as I laid there. "Why? Is it sexy?"

       "Oh it's sexy, pal," I smiled. He did a lame shimmy that was only
hot because we were both nearly naked and his body was so insanely
toned. Otherwise, he would have looked like a total fool.

       "Is this hot?" he asked, shimmying again and rubbing his big hands
over his firm stomach. He turned around so his ass was facing me, the
jock's tight strap bisecting his strong backside. His bubble butt just
popped out of his body under it. I could have died at how hot my man was.

       "Come here," I said, suddenly very much in the mood. I pulled him
back down to the bed, between my legs, and ground our cocks together. We
fit together perfectly, Chase and I. It was like our bodies were built to
be together. From that position, my legs wrapped around him and his face
buried in mine, our torsos were perfectly aligned. The best part is, with
little to no straining, Chase's cock was perfectly in line with my ass.

       We made out like school kids: hard. I sucked his tongue in deeply
while his strong hand massaged my cock and his other hand roamed my body. I
hugged him close with my legs, unable to get close enough. A minute later,
Chase sat up, peeled off his sexy jock and put the head of his dick right
at my hole.

       "Ready babe?" he asked, looking at me with his deep blue gaze. I
smiled, took in a deep breath and felt the head of his dick pop into my
ass. His precum had slicked his cock up pretty well, but a mild feeling of
discomfort still won out at the beginning. I pushed his hips back with my
hands, indicating he slow down until I adjusted.

       Chase, so sexy and so in control, took it slow until he was buried
completely into my ass. He fell on top of me in a super strong kind of push
up, slowly lifted out and then dove back in. It took us a couple of
minutes, but after twenty years, who isn't rusty? In a few minutes, we
found our rhythm.

       Our lips didn't part one time while Chase fucked me. I kept his face
pinned to mine as I held the back of his head and clawed at his back,
begging him with my body to fuck me faster and harder.

       And he did. Like he hadn't fucked in forever, Chase buckled down and
pistoned me over and over, without once skipping a beat.

       I felt myself get tingly all over and I slowed him down, not wanting
to burst my load too soon. I pushed Chase up so that his torso wasn't
creating quite so much friction for my dick. I breathed in, kept my eye
contact with him and watched as he sat up and fucked me.

       In a move I'd never seen, but was totally thrilled by, Chase grabbed
one of my legs and pulled it to his shoulder. He took the other and ran his
tongue up the length of my foot, sucking in my big toe at the end. The
sensation was amazing. I've never been much of a foot person, but seeing
Chase fuck me while feeling him suck in my big toe was a completely
arousing feeling.

       He continued to plow me, throwing all caution to the wind, our sweat
colliding on my torso. My glistening god pounding me over and over. I could
feel his breath labor, getting a little heavier, and I heard his grunts get
lower. He collapsed on top of me again.

       "Let's cum babe," he said as he put his lips right on top of mine. I
kissed him deeply, wedged my hand between us and grabbed my cock. Two
thrusts and one pull later, I came all over our chests as Chase filled me
up inside with sweet Californian butter cream.

       To say I was spent would be an understatement. Chase and I just sort
of lay there, mixing sweat with cum. The best thing about sex with Chase
was the feeling of sheer tingling afterwards. Every inch of my body that
touched his was on fire for minutes after we came. It was like as if
electric current ran between us, and our skin was the conductor.

       "I never want to stop doing that," he said in a whisper, his
breathing returning to normal. I pulled his head up to mine and gave him a
last kiss. He found the sweet spot on my chest and laid his head on it.

       "You pick whatever house makes you and your kids happy, and I will
be honored to live there," he said. I thought for a second, wondering if it
was appropriate for us to move in together so soon. Did I need to wait a
while before I put him on a lease? It felt like a royal waste of time
getting two places, but we were talking about a guy that had bolted on me
once before.

       "I have a question," I said, realizing I was about to kill any mood
we had set. "Are you keeping your place in LA?"

       Chase brought his hand up to my stomach and tickled me with his
finger before he answered.

       "I hadn't thought about it," he said. "I guess I'll sell my dad's
place, but I'll probably keep my office and apartment in Hollywood."

       I nodded.

       "Do you think you'll need an apartment in LA?" I wasn't trying to
sound like a paranoid bitch, but these were things I needed to know before
I recommitted my entire life. Did he have plans to be back and forth? What
kind of split was he talking? Without saying the words outright, I voiced
my concern and Chase read the tone.

       "If you're asking if I'm going anywhere, the answer is no,
Monsieur," he said. His words were fast and his finger tracing my stomach
was slow. "I'm here, okay? And if you're still expecting me to walk out the
door every second, I'm telling you now, I'm going to disappoint you. I'm
not running from this. I've been waiting for this for years."

       "I get that, Chase," I said sternly. "Trust me, I do. And I'm not
sitting here willing you out; I just need to know what arrangement we're
getting into."

       "You're getting a place?"

       "Yes."

       "Can I live there?"

       "Yes," I said after a second.

       "There. That's the arrangement. We'll discuss my share of the rent
at some point."

       "Don't be absurd," I said. I sat up, suddenly offended by his
attitude. "I don't want a roommate. I want a partner for life."

       "And I'm giving you one," he said with assurance. He looked me
square in the eye. "You know, every single guy I swam with in Rio, every
single one, got divorced shortly after the games. These guys had their
wives and girlfriends at the games every single day. They would follow them
around and they'd support them and cheer. But those people, those glorified
groupies with wedding bands on their fingers never built anything for
themselves. And so when guys like us came back to the real world hoping for
a little stability, their spouses had no clue how to offer that."

       His voice was even and firm. I got the message, loud and clear.

       "That wouldn't have happened to us," I said.

       "You never know," Chase replied. He stood up, grabbed a towel from
the floor and walked into the bathroom. A second later, the shower started
running. I packed up my papers and drove to Spencer's wondering if Chase
was right. If he had stayed, would I be divorcing him now instead of Devon?
With my proven track record, the possibility was high.

       I woke up at Spencer's the next morning, got dressed and called my
realtor. We set up a one o'clock meeting to look at the two finalists in
the apartment search.

       My next call was to my publicist.

       "How is the college professor doing these days?"

       "I'm doing great, Mason," I replied.

       "Look, if you're calling about getting together this weekend, the
answer is absolutely. I need to blow off some major steam. I planned on
going camping with my kids, but back to school is driving them insane,
which is driving me insane."

       "I can't hook up anymore," I said to him. I hadn't even called to
talk about that. The whole thing threw me, but without thinking, I blurted
it out.

       "What?"

       "I um... listen, we work great together. And I just called to tell
you that Devon and I are splitting up. Chase... from the book is back."

       "The Chase?"

       "Yeah," I said, not sure how he would take the news. Mason and my
relationship, if you could even call it that, was complicated. I would need
him to be a top of the line publicist from here on out.

       "Okay. There's no use trying to go up against that, is there?" he
chuckled uncomfortably.

       "Listen, I just wanted to give you the heads up. I'm not sure when
Devon is going to file, but I'll need you to minimize the press on all of
this," I said. I made it a point to speak professionally so that my point
was hammered home. I was done with whatever side thing we had.

       Part of me wondered what Mason's reaction to the whole thing would
be. In several ways, we were the same. Restless married men desperately
trying to live a life that we'd created out of whatever preconceived notion
we'd bought into. He was a deep down closet case. I was a little more
complicated. Still, in several ways we were the same.

       I finished the meeting and hung up. I sat there in my best friend's
living room thinking about my next move until Spencer woke up and joined
me.

       "You were home late last night," he commented. "You didn't want to
sleep over with the boyfriend?"

       "I could have," I said. "But who would have woken up and made you
coffee?"

       "You're a saint," he said, pouring himself a cup. The truth was,
after our talk the night before, I had several things to sort through about
Chase. Maybe he was right. Maybe it was time to just let the whole thing
go. Let the past be the past. We might have been better off living separate
lives and coming together now, when we both could do it freely. I wanted
desperately to let everything go, but something continued to nag at
me. It's hard to fill a twenty year void, I realized.

       If I'd gone with him, if we'd stayed together, one of our careers
would have suffered. His was over. Mine was just beginning.

       "Have you seen Kyle since..."

       "Since you reamed him in the ass with a bowling ball?" Spencer
finished. "Yes, I have."

       "Is he still..."

       "Pissed off at you? Very much. In fact, we were supposed to have
drinks here last night, but he found out you were crashing and so we moved
it to Lemmon Bar," Spencer said. Kyle hated Lemmon Bar. "He almost punched
me for housing you. Called me an accomplice."

       "I've called him a dozen times; he won't answer," I said as Spencer
sat down and crossed his legs. He sipped his coffee with his eyebrows high.

       "I'd say, try a dozen more, but what do I know?"

       I got up and went to my room to get my stuff ready.

       My meeting with the realtor was at one. In a split decision, I
decided to pick CJ up from school and drag him with me. I raced up Preston
to St. Mark's, pulled CJ out of math class and raced to the first location
right before twelve.

       "What's the occasion, Dad?" he asked as I pulled my shades on and we
walked brusquely to the car.

       "I want you to help me decide. Yours' is the only opinion I'm gonna
trust on this one."

       The first apartment was a two-story, three bedroom, penthouse at the
top of the Village Towers on the other side of 75. The view of the entire
city was breathtaking. It was a little further than I would have loved, but
the building was newer and the place was expected to appreciate tenfold. It
was the last unit in the building and it resembled something a rapper or a
Dallas Maverick might lease.

       "Dad this one's great," CJ said walking around and touching
everything. It came pre-furnished, which was a plus. "But one problem. If
you ever need to pee real bad coming home, having to sit in that elevator
for 42 stories would really suck."

       "Good point kiddo," I replied with a smile. I was glad my gamble in
picking him up was paying off. I wanted whatever decision I made to sit
well with my kids, especially CJ. I worried about him more than I worried
about Liz. She would have an attitude and be pissy for a while, but Devon
would be much better at handling that situation. I needed to be good at
handling this one.

       At the end of the day, the rooftop pool was impressive, as was the
view from the penthouse, but the apartment lacked a homey quality.

       The second place was completely different. It was one of four
restored lofts that formed a quad in the middle. There was a pool and
several cool looking canopies in the quad, not to mention plenty of shade
cover. Inside, the place was charming. It looked more like a family home
than a bachelor pad.

       "Both units are leased together," the realtor said about the two
stories. "The master bedroom on the first floor has a private entrance. As
you can see, the ceilings here in the main area are lofted and there's the
skywalk across the second floor there."

       The whole thing was breathtaking. The living area was very open,
with a skylight at the top, and one in each of the upstairs bedrooms. The
bar sat six, which my friends would love. I looked at CJ when he came back
from checking out the two bedrooms upstairs.

       "I want this one," he declared. At first I thought he was talking
about the apartment, and then I realized he had already picked out a
room. I smiled. Ten minutes later, the realtor drew up papers. An hour
later, I signed them.

       I drove CJ back to Highland Park to drop him off just as Devon was
pulling her Volvo into the driveway. Liz gave me one look before she bolted
into the house.

       "Go inside, kiddo," I said to CJ. "Have fun at the lake this
weekend."

       He took his backpack and hustled into my former home. I could tell
by the way Devon approached that this wouldn't be a friendly chat.

       "What the hell was that about?" she asked.

       "I wanted to spend an afternoon with CJ," I said innocently, aware
that I was in some deep shit.

       "I would appreciate it if you would call me to make sure that was
okay next time," she said. Her voice was as cold as ice, and her expression
was hard and upset. "I'm sure CJ didn't tell you that he had a biology quiz
this afternoon that I just had to fight the teacher to discount and let him
do on Monday. Not to mention the fact that I drove all the way to
St. Mark's to pick him up only to hear that his father had already been
by."

       "Okay, I see," I said. The way she said father stung like a scorpion
bite. "I'm sorry, Dev. It won't happen again."

       "You're damn right it won't happen again," she said. "Cooper, you
tore this family apart. You don't get the perks of being a pop in
parent. The next time you get the whim to spend the afternoon with your
son, squash it."

       Her eyes gave me a slap in the face. I swallowed the crow in my
throat, apologized again, and drove away, feeling extremely frustrated and
helpless.

       I ran the rest of my errands for the afternoon, forwarded my mail,
reserved movers, and called for an appointment at a furniture shop in the
morning.

       By the time I got to Chase's suite, I was spent. He gave me a long
kiss at the door and led me to his bed.

       "What do you want for dinner?" he asked in a less than enthusiastic
voice. He opened the hotel restaurant menu and started flipping through
it. I looked at him for a second.

       "Let's go out," I said. In my mind, I could only imagine what he was
going through, waiting on me to deal with everything so that we could
finally move forward. In my mind, I searched for desperate reminders that
everything I was getting was worth what I'd given up. He beamed, grabbed a
towel, and hopped in for a quick shower.

       "Wanna conserve water?" he shouted as the warm water ran. I could
see smoke billowing out of the bathroom. I sighed, stood and peeled off my
clothes. A minute later, I was standing behind Chase, running lathery
fingers through his hair.

       "When your parents split up, you lived with your dad, right?" I
asked. I wasn't sure if he planned on our shower being sexual or not, but I
wasn't feeling it. Maybe after a couple of cocktails, I would be in the
mood, but just then, I wanted to unwind.

       "Yeah," he replied. "And my sister lived with my mom."

       "Why? How'd you guys choose?"

       "My parents agreed that they'd let us choose," he said. "It was part
of the settlement. We were threatened by the judge kind of to make a solid
decision, because the other parent only got visitation rights, which were
shit."

       He went on to explain that his mom moved six hundred miles away
after the split, so it was impossible for him to just pick up and see
her. They drifted, as did he and his sister.

       "I want CJ to live with me when I get the place ready," I
declared. Chase turned around.

       "I can totally relate to that," he said. "And I can relate to what
CJ's about to go through. When the divorce with my parents happened, it was
unequivocally my dad's fault. We're talking a mistress, stolen money, a lot
of drama. But through all of that, I felt like my dad needed me, you know?
Like if I didn't stay with him, he'd lose it or something. He was a good
man and I loved him, so I bit the bullet."

       "I don't want to ask my kids to choose," I said. "It seems so
cruel."

       The truth was, I was worried that they wouldn't see me like Chase
saw his dad. Liz would stick with Devon, hands down. No matter what. If CJ
had to choose, I was worried he wouldn't pick me. That would hurt something
awful.

       "Look, your kids love you, I can tell you that honestly, one hundred
percent. Give yourself some credit." Chase kissed me. I was glad I had
someone to go through this whole shooting match with. Honestly, I don't
think I could have handled it alone.

	One outfit change a dozen distracting kisses later, we were both
dressed and headed downtown for dinner and drinks. We must have made quite
the sight. Two attractive, clean cut, forty-year-olds, dressed to kill in
stylish jeans and classic blazers. One was tall, tan, and blonde with eyes
that could slay the Pope. The other, tall and fair with dark features and a
flirtatious smile.

	We went to a Brazilian restaurant, Fogo de Chao, in Addison. It was
one of the few restaurants in north Dallas that didn't have a sentimental
story behind it, so when Chase suggested it, I gladly agreed.

	The rhythm we'd fallen into in the bedroom translated into dinner
beautifully. It was like we'd been together every day of our lives for
twenty years. The jokes were effortless, the flirting was breezy, and the
eye contact was electrifying. Every time Chase brushed against me, or
grazed my knee, I felt another wave of attraction towards him.

	Dinner led to wine at a bar in Addison, and wine was followed by an
invitation to drinks in Uptown by a couple of guys at the wine bar.

	"Yeah, we'll come down for a drink," Chase said looking at me. I
nodded, and a minute later, we were following the guys to Alexander's on
Cedar Spring.

	"You know, you look just like the famous swimmer," the first of our
two new friends said to Chase, bringing over two martinis. The other
followed with the other two.

	"I was telling Brett in the car, you really do," the second one
chimed in. I smiled at Chase.

	"Should you tell them?" I asked. "You don't really want to tell
them, do you?"

	"Oh my god, you are!" Brett exclaimed. He was the smaller,
presumably bottom, of the two.

	The rest of the night consisted of them telling everyone at the bar
that they were in the presence of someone who had once graced the cover of
Sports Illustrated.

	I played the dutiful boyfriend well, entertaining the guys
clamoring for their chance to get close to Chase. He looked a little
surprised at first, but after a couple of guys asked to take pictures with
us, he took it in stride.

	"That was... different," he said as we collapsed onto the bed
several drinks and several hours later. Spent and tired, I untied my shoes,
slipped out of my clothes and joined Chase in the bed. "No one cares about
athletes in LA unless they're wearing purple and gold."

	"Well here, you're a semi-celebrity," I smiled.

	"So are you," he said. I gave him a look. "Come on. They may have
wanted my picture tonight, but every single one of those guys knew who
Cooper Carpenter was. One guy looked at me and said `I guess he's not
cooped up anymore'."

	"No one said that," I said.

	"I swear," he joked, climbing on top of me and kissing me deep. He
intertwined his arms with mine and gazed me and fiercely. "Now, I noticed
you're naked and in my bed at two in the morning. Does that mean you're
finally going to spend the night?"

	I looked up at him and smiled. "Why not?" I asked. "Of course I'll
spend the night." We spent the next two hours making spine-tingling love.

	I woke up bright and early the next morning, with only a mild
hovering of a headache. I showered, got dressed and drove to Grapevine to
check out furniture. I paid for a complete black wood and brown accented
living room set, a California king bed and chaise lounge for the living
room, and several necessary den fixings. I also picked out two blue arm
chairs that would look perfect by the window. I pulled a couple side
tables, a piece of corner art, and some wall paint swatches. I gave them
the address and extra cash to have it delivered that day.

	On my way back to Dallas, Chase called and asked what size TV was
appropriate for the living room.

	"I'm looking at a 60 and a 72 incher right now," he said. I wasn't
big on TV, so I told him to choose. I was pretty sure he would pick out a
72 inch LED Real-D television with other technological initials I couldn't
have cared less about.

	My second stop was my home, where I spent two hours packing my
clothes, books and assorted accessories that belonged to me into boxes and
then to my car. We had two of several things over the years that I decided
Devon and the kids didn't need: toaster, blender, plate set. I picked up
everything else from Target on my way to the new place.

	The only part of moving out that was hard was being in my old
bedroom. There were a million and a half memories in that bedroom. Before
things got rough, Devon and I planned our futures in that bedroom. CJ was
conceived on that very bed. I had had twenty years of solid friendship in
that bedroom, and it was hard closing the door on that.

	Moving everything in to the new place was sort of therapeutic. It
was like, the only way to move on was to move in, and that's what I spent
Saturday doing. When all of my things were moved in at 7, needing only to
be organized and put into their final places, I called Chase and asked what
his status was.

	"I'm stuck here at the paint shop, gamin," he said. "They're still
trying to mix up the color you sent me for the living room."

	"Okay, well I just finished moving all of my things up," I
said. "I'm a little tired to start unpacking."

	"If you want to do me a huge favor," he said. "I told the hotel
that I would check out at 8 and it looks like there's no way I can make
that. Could you go by the W and throw my things into the suitcase and bring
it over? I'll call and say you're checking me out. And on my way out of
here, I'll stop by somewhere and pick up dinner."

	"And wine," I added. "Everything is in the closet?"

	"There are a couple of things in the desk drawer and some documents
in the safe. I'll text you the combination. Thanks, babe. I love you."

	He hung up abruptly, and went back to bargaining for paint. I
sighed, lamenting the fact that I had to get up and leave the apartment
again. I put on some slippers, pulled my keys off the counter and drove
over to Chase's hotel suite. The front desk clerk didn't even bat an eye
when I strolled right through.

	He was right about it being a quick job. Chase didn't have a ton of
stuff in the room, and all of his clothes fit nicely into one duffle and
one rollaway suitcase. The rest of the things were haphazardly thrown into
a sack I'd brought and carried downstairs to the lobby. I went back
upstairs to get his suitcase and a manila envelope out of the safe using
the code he'd messaged to me.

	With everything in hand, I went downstairs and gave the valet my
ticket. They wheeled my car around a few minutes later and I started to
load everything in.

	As I was hoisting the suitcase with the envelope saddled under my
arm, I felt several of the files inside slip out. A fast moving valet
pounced, picking up the dropped files.

	"Here you go, Mr... Pallendrino," he said, looking down at one of
the documents.

	"Not quite," I said. "But that sort of has a ring to it." The valet
smiled at me, and handed me the papers.

	Did I really just think marrying Chase had a ring to it? Would
Mr. and Mr. Carpenter-Pallendrino really be a solid idea? I spent a minute
thinking about what being married to Chase would be like when my eye
wandered to the paper that the valet had just handed me.

	The top line of the body paragraph had Chase's name underlined and
highlighted. Above the body was a header that read Walker and Walker LLC.

	Why did Chase have legal documents with him? I wondered. I handed
the valet a tip and got into my car with every intention of putting the
papers back. But like any self-respecting man, my curiosity got the better
of me.

	Dear Mr. Pallendrino, the attached documents are your final release
from your marriage to Morgan Fieri. Please sign and initial where I have
indicated with a yellow highlighter, return the documents to me, and I will
have your divorce complete.

       My initial reaction was utter surprise, followed by mild brewing
anger. He'd been married. He'd lied to me about the extent of his
relationship with Morgan. The two of them had been married in California
and he thought not telling me was the way to go.

       I flipped through the papers and saw that none of them were signed
yet. Then my eye saw the date. May 24. Three months. He'd had the papers
for three months and he hadn't signed a single one of them.

       Hurt, disappointed, and angry, I drove to the apartment that an hour
earlier, I'd considered home.

       When I finally pulled into one of the two assigned parking spots for
my loft, I put my head to the steering wheel and sat there. It was
impossible to feel anything except anger. It would have been futile to
understand how Chase had felt it appropriate to omit that tiny little
detail. The one in which he had an ex-husband somewhere, probably wondering
where Chase had jetted off to.

       When I thought things couldn't get worse, the first fall rain hit my
windshield, one splat at a time. If I knew anything about Texas, it was
that in ten minutes, we would be under a thunderstorm warning. With only
the manila envelope in hand, I exited the car and walked up to my
apartment.

       When I opened the door, Chase was inside. He had a Chinese takeout
dinner set up on two empty boxes with a blanket next to it. There was a
candle on next to the food and a bottle of wine chilling in a large glass
bowl I didn't remember taking from the house.

       "I thought I'd do something special for dinner," he said. "In honor
of our first night here."

       I handed him the envelope and then glared at him with one eyebrow
raised. I didn't say anything and I didn't need to. He knew exactly what
was in there, and my face didn't hide my feelings.

       "Cooper, you weren't supposed to see these," he said quietly.

       "Because why? Because then I'd know you're a lying son of a bitch?"

       "Cooper, don't overreact."

       "Tell me, please, Chase, how I'm supposed to react," I raised my
voice. "You were married and you lied to me about it. What, in God's name,
is the proper reaction to that?"

       "I didn't lie, technically," he said.

       "Oh please," I countered.

       "I just didn't tell you, because I knew this would happen."

       "When I asked you who the guy in the picture was, you said he was no
one. You don't marry no one and then spend three months waiting to sign the
divorce papers."

       Chase looked at me like he'd been caught stealing something. I
didn't know what he thought he could say to make the situation better, but
I briefly wished he would come up with something.

       "It's complicated with Morgan," he said. "I'm sorry I didn't tell
you but you wouldn't have understood."

       That, I couldn't stomach. The anger flew from my head straight down
to my leg and I found myself kicking a box with Chinese food atop it across
the living room. I had mushu pork on my brand new wall.

       "Are you fucking kidding me? I am going through a divorce right
now. Right now, my wife is calculating how to make sure I never see my
children again. Right now, my lawyer is not speaking to me and I have no
clue what the fuck is going on. One of my best friends can barely talk to
me because I destroyed his wife's best friend. Say anything in the entire
world, Chase, but do not tell me I wouldn't understand what you're going
through."

       He looked at me like I was a complete stranger. I had only lost my
temper with him once before and it was twenty years prior. A day later, he
was gone for twenty years.

       "Cooper..."

       "I want you out," I said.

       "Oh come on," he said like I was being totally ridiculous. "Can we
talk about this?"

       "There's really very little to say."

       He shifted, his mouth agape and his hand on one hip. Finally, he
leaned onto the counter. "Okay, I know you're going to want to be dramatic
about this, so let me spare us the next three pages of your next novel."

       "Seriously?"

       "I am sorry, I really am. I didn't tell you because I knew you would
freak out. I didn't sign the papers because, believe it or not, this is a
big decision that normal people don't just make. Not all of us can just
make a life altering decision and stick to it, babe."

       "If you plan on trying to tell me-"

       "These papers will be signed and gone first thing Monday morning."

       "Don't do anything you don't want to do for me, buddy," I said. "I
just... I can't even believe this. You swoop in here and change everything
and claim it's because your dad died and you can finally live the life you
want, when actually, you're just running away from some fourteen year
marriage that, your quote, was nothing."

       "Cooper, believe me. It's over."

       "I don't know what to believe to be honest, killer. I just. Why are
you here? Are you going to stay? Who are you? For all I know, your dad's
not even fucking dead."

       I knew I crossed the line as soon I stepped over it. I took in a
deep breath, realizing that I had gone too far, but it was too late. My
filter was broken, and I'd said the words.

       The contact came from my left harder than I ever expected. Chase's
fist hit me square in the jaw, and it felt like I had been stabbed with a
million needles of Novocain. I reeled backwards. My head hit the wall
behind me, and my eyes immediately filled with water. Instead of steadying
myself, I let my body slip down the wall to the floor.

       "I want you out of my house."

       "Cooper, I'm sorry."

       I looked up at him through a pool of saltiness in my eyes. I had the
urge to spit.

       "Cooper."

       "Get out of my house," I said, more grit in my voice than ever
before.

	For the second time ever, I sat and watched Chase Pallendrino walk
away.

	I hope you're enjoying the series so far. More to come soon. As
always, comments and reviews are the only currency for Nifty writers, so
your feedback good or bad would be greatly appreciated. Contact me at
jwolf24450@gmail.com. Thanks again for reading my story!