Ink Slapped Read online

  I remember the pictures of Madison, Eli, and the band from their old website. How happy they seemed. If I didn’t know the story, I wouldn’t have thought Eli could hold any resentment for Madison much like I can’t imagine a bitterness he’d hold toward me. In reality, he could and I don’t want that.

  I’m not going to be the one to stand in his way, but… “What do you think I can do?”

  She laughs. “Besides back the fuck away from my husband?” I wince, slinking into the chair. “Use your friendship to talk him into it,” she says friendship like a disgusting word. It reminds me of the morning after Halloween. It reminds me of how much she can’t stand the sight of me.

  I try to give myself a few days to mourn and wallow, but Eli keeps blowing up my phone. I never answer. Even if Madison didn’t threaten me with a lawsuit, I’m still unhappy over what happened the last time I saw him. I hate to be passive aggressive, but he needs to feel my distance. Crockett also tries to call a few times, but I can’t bring myself to cry on his shoulder.

  I’m lying on my stomach in the living room with my laptop when the knock comes. Well, this is it. When I open the door, his gaze slides past me as if he thinks I’m not alone.

  “Hey.” I wave him in.

  “You’ve been ignoring me.”

  Gesturing to my open laptop on the floor, I sigh. “I’m trying to finish this book, Eli.”

  He zeros in on it, and his brow scrunches with curiosity. “Oh yeah?”

  “Yes, editing, actually.” I close the laptop and place it on the coffee table.

  “You’re okay?”

  I smile. “I’m fine. What’s up?”

  It’s almost as if he’s disarmed and he takes a minute to snap out of his thoughts. “I, uh, I wanted to give you some news. You had me worried. I thought—” He rubs his neck. “I guess it doesn’t matter. Anyway, we’re doing the collaboration with Madison.”

  I swallow and turn toward the kitchen to grab two bottled waters from the fridge. “Oh.” Even I hear the disbelief. I can’t believe how much hope I had on him—hope of maybe he wouldn’t go for it. And here I thought I would have to convince him. Grinning wide, I look at him again. “That’s great.” The words feel like I’m suffocating on rocks, but I smile and hand him a glass of water.

  He places it on the bar and leans on the doorframe with his arms crossed. His impassive expression seems like it’s looking straight through me. “You don’t seem surprised.”

  “No, I want you to do it. It’ll be great for you and Tainted District.”

  “Even if I have to stay married to do so?” Agitation spikes his tone.

  Would he have to? I want to ask, but I shrug and clear my throat. “I’m sorry I got upset with you for being intim—” I laugh, a caustic sound for almost glazing my words in sticky sweetness. “For having sex with your wife. It wasn’t my place.”

  The bitter resignation on his features carves a hole in my heart. “Tay—”

  “Did you know, statistically, it’s unlikely for a man to leave his wife for his mistress? Like less than ten percent.” He bumps from the wall, his mouth a tight line. “Did you know most people in an affair think a long-term relationship is possible? And if by the off-chance someone leaves their spouse and marries the affair partner, over seventy-five percent of those situations end in divorce?”

  He places his fists on the counter, I suppose trying to hold it together. “Taylor,” he whispers. “I’ve never once looked at you as the other woman. I never wanted you to feel that way.”

  I close my eyes and inhale slowly through my nose. “Did you know women are more likely to continue an affair if she thinks she’s special? If she thinks there’s any hope for a future?”

  Eli goes pale. The silence in the kitchen stretches for the longest minutes of my life.

  When he says nothing, I do my best to convince him. “Madison is special, Eli. You guys will work through it.” I place my hand on his. “It’s okay to love your wife. Don’t worry about me.”

  His gaze lingers on our hands. A stillness settles into my apartment. We can hear daytime activity outside and my neighbors through the walls.

  “So you’re just going to stop talking to me?” he asks.

  “Not a chance. I’m your biggest fan.”

  Even as both of us break in two, he nods and after a few more minutes of trying uncomfortable small talk, he leaves. My soul shatters, and I know I fall for him a little bit more for not asking me to wait.

  The next day, I call Crockett. I think he needs to know I’m okay.

  He answers after the third ring, “Taylor.” There’s a pause. “How are you?”

  “I’m good. I heard a congrats are in order. Now you guys are gonna hit it big and forget all about little ole me.”

  He laughs at my joke, seeming to relax. “Honey, no one who’s seen your rump walking by could forget you.”

  “Tell me everything.”

  “Ugh. After today, I don’t know, lush. It’s gonna be rough.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  A long silence stretches. “Well, the band just came from a huge meeting with Dash Top and so many stiff lawyers, I was afraid to pop my gum, thinking they’d bust like a bubble. Anyway, a lot of legal mumbo jumbo. Dash Top wants Madison and Eli to stay married because of the publicity. They asked if anyone had a problem with it. Eli just sat there. Resigned. And then we signed the commitment to the single. Weird thing though, Eli negotiated to regain partial copyright to Unplugged Moments. And he doesn’t want any royalties for it.”

  A chill seizes any movement. Regain? Does that mean he had something to do with writing the song? And he doesn’t want money from it? Does Eli know what Madison threatened me with? I have to ask, “Why would he do that?”

  He sighs through the phone, not answering right away. “Lush, you ain’t stupid.”

  So he does know and so does Crockett. I blow a shaky breath. “I need a drink. You in?”

  “Wish I could, I have other engagements.”

  “What would those be?”

  “Work. For money.”

  “You’re always working.”

  “That’s what happens when you have five jobs. Maybe Tainted District will go the distance.”

  “I know you guys will, but you’ll be making it up to me.”

  He laughs as if he’s already got something in mind. “All you have to do is ask, lush. I’m good at scratching itches.”

  “Shut up.” I laugh and have a paralyzing moment. Eli really did this for me?

  A few days later, I get my answer via a first-class mail cardboard envelope. Written permission to use the lyrics in any way I want. Signed by Eli, Dash Top Records CEO, attorneys, and witnesses.

  At the end of November, the key in the door jiggles, and I smile wide at hearing Madison swear. Crossing my ankles, I stay on my couch and raise the volume of the game on TV. It’s another few minutes before she bangs. “Dammit, Eli!”

  I let her stew a minute and get to my feet, strolling to the door before she breaks a nail or bursts a vein. She glares at me. “You’re the worst husband ever.”

  “You don’t say?”

  “Nice try.” Stomping into my studio, she’s stringing curses at me. I don’t care, so I tune her out. A specialty I’ve come to rely on these past weeks. Now that I’ve changed my locks, she can no longer come in to meddle when I’m not here. There’s nothing to meddle in. I know she wants to find dirt on me. Dirt she won't find. I’ve even taken into consideration my browser history and it no longer includes Taylor’s site. Madison has nothing but my bitterness to choke on and play against. Maybe she won’t hurt Taylor if Taylor isn’t in my life. And she isn’t despite her proclamation of being my biggest fan, she has yet to contact me. Even though Taylor supports the decision, she has no idea I was forced into this situation. She has no idea I’m doing it for her.

  Now that I’m officially on the copyright of Unplugged Moments, as much as I’d rather not be, Taylor can’t be sue
d. I was going to tell her, but I knew she wouldn’t listen when she kept spewing staggering statistics. I blame the internet for that one. All I wanted to do was shake her, make her see, but she’s convinced herself the way I make her feel is a lie. That’s why I’m having trouble forgiving Madison. She’s always gets what she wants. And Jack said I was selfish.

  The single leaks in a few short weeks since Madison’s new album drops at the end of January. Highway is a song we already had, so they threw us into the studio right away. It didn’t take long to finish recording, not a surprise since we could play it in our sleep, and now everything is on fast forward. What’s messed is a year ago all of this would’ve been a dream come true.

  Without listening, I know what she’s saying. “I’m not moving into your house, Madison. I don’t care who notices we don’t live together.”

  It’s not like the paparazzi follow her around, no matter how much she might wish it upon herself.

  Another eat shit and die glare. “That’s not what I’m talking about. You’re coming to Aspen with me for the holidays.”

  “Uh, no, I’m not. You know I spend Christmas with my family.”

  “Yes, you are. We have a satellite radio interview and a photo shoot.”

  I suppress a groan. “Isn’t that after Christmas?” And I remember nothing about a photo shoot.

  “Do you not check your email? It had to be bumped to the twenty-second.”

  The stupid song has become my biggest resentment in life, surpassing my marriage only by an inch. The only upside is Crockett, Jack, and Milo are going, too. “We already did photos.”

  “That was for the cover. This is for a magazine and promo for the single.”

  “This is a sham. Lots of people have successful love duets and aren’t married.” I’m not sure how many times I’ve voiced this, even though it doesn’t matter now. “You have what you want.”

  She goes into my bathroom and slams the door, cutting off our conversation. I drop onto the couch and watch the game. It’s not like I have much to do. My work at the shop is up-to-date. The garage is clean for the first time in two years. I even decorated a small Christmas tree to spread cheer for my customers. The guys avoid Madison and me like we’re some kind of epidemic that spreads the infection called misery. I don’t blame them. We are hard to be around when we’re together. They know she was coming over today, so I doubt they’ll drop by.

  The way I left things with Taylor bothers me. The way she’s understanding and supportive bothers me, even though it’s just another quality I admire about her. We never said goodbye. It’s just some unspoken agreement between us. It’s better to stay away. I only do it because I know she deserves more out of life than to wait for me to fix this mess. But my mess won’t even matter when she hears the song…I can’t even think about it. My mind refuses to go there. Numbness consumes me, and I let it because the truth is, I miss Taylor. Anything I do seems pointless without her encouragement—feels empty.

  Half-time passes and it’s midway through the third quarter, when I notice Madison is still in the bathroom. I mute the TV and hear the whimpers.

  Padding over to the door, I tap. “Madison?”

  She sniffs and blows snot. “What?” Shit. Her voice is thick, and even though the door is closed, I know what she looks like when she cries.

  “Why are you crying?”

  The door opens to red puffy eyes. “You don’t care anymore. You’re not even trying.” I move into the bathroom and wet a cloth, wiping mascara from her cheek and under her eyes. Her gaze searches mine, and she looks down. “I know I made a huge mistake when I left the first time, okay?”

  Hiccups start when she meets my eyes, hers fill with more tears. I pull her to me and she cries into my shoulder. No matter what she’s done to get her way, she’s still my wife. The woman I married is in there somewhere, but…

  “You blackmailed me,” I state, searching her face for any kind of manipulation.

  She must see how hard it is for me to trust her because she bursts into sobs. “I know. I feel awful about everything. I didn’t want to lose you. I still don’t, but I don’t know how to fix this. It’s like your mind is always somewhere else.”

  I don’t know what I’ve been waiting on. Maybe for Taylor to call and tell me how she feels? The compromise it takes to stay in love. It’s okay to love your wife. Taylor has admirable ideas about marriage and the work it takes. What would she think if she knew I’m living like a walking zombie? She’d hate it. She’d want better for me like I want better for her.

  My voice is thick when I speak. “You’re right. I’m not giving it a shot, but it’s not okay how you went about things. I need time.”

  The hope on her face makes me feel like an asshole. “Okay.”

  “You think it’ll be a problem if my parents tag along to Colorado?”

  Sniffling, she pulls back to look at me, searching my eyes. “Of course not.”

  The next few weeks fly by faster than I’d have thought possible. I’ve done a lot of thinking. Madison is right about the fact my mind is always somewhere else. Why wouldn’t it be? I lost something before I could find out what it could turn into. My heart is heavy, but that’s life. I need to suck it up and do something about it. So what if I give it a shot? What if I tried to forget and forgive? I’m certain of the possibility. It’s imperative to take things slow. This call will for sure tell me if she wants to or not. I’m miserable with the way things are and maybe this new focus will shed light on how I really feel. The only way to do that is appreciate what I have and not long after what I don’t.

  “Hey.” She sounds surprised.

  “I want to run something by you.” I sit at my desk and grip the edge.

  “Okay.” Her voice takes on a hint of suspicion.

  “I’ve been doing some research, and I think it’s a good idea to attend marriage counseling. You know? Have a mediator and clear the air. Start fresh.”

  She contemplates a minute before answering. “I think that’s a great idea.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes,” she blurts.

  “Okay, I’ll arrange it and get back to you.” My body relaxes. “We can make this work.”

  “Thank you,” she whispers and a sniffle comes through the phone.

  I sigh. “Don’t cry.”

  She laughs. A genuine one that makes me smile. “You want me to bring dinner tonight?”

  “That’d be perfect.”

  After we hang up, I don’t look, but grab the picture of Taylor and me and shove it face down in the back of my bottom drawer. I pause before slamming it shut with a metallic bang.

  Crockett plops in front of me with a book, a liquor bottle tucked under his arm, and a glass in each hand. We’re in a giant lodge in front of a fire. He slides over a scotch on the rocks. I catch sight of his choice in clothing. “You look like you came from an ugly sweater party.”

  He flicks the big red ball that forms Rudolph’s nose. “This sweater kicks balls, and anyway, what do you know about ugly sweater parties?” he asks with a smirk on his face.

  “My mom goes to one every year.”

  He bursts out laughing. “I know. I’m the one who hosts it, and that’s exactly where this came from.”

  “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

  He shrugs, growing a little somber. “Great interview.”

  I nod even though the interview is a blur. A moment in time that went as quickly as I wanted it to. I grab the glass and stare at the gas fire. The showcase of a circular stone fireplace—like a backyard fire pit. Sofa chairs form a circle the surrounding way. Elaborately decorated Christmas trees embellish every corner. Besides the pine of the trees, the lodge smells like hot cocoa and marshmallows—more to do with some kind of scented spray than actual hot chocolate.

  “No skiing?” The ice in his glass tinkles as he sips. As if the drink soothes him, he slouches into the big fluffy chair.

  I take a long gulp of my own, putting it
down as my stomach turns. I’m not sure if it’s in a good way or not. “Nah, I’m kind of nervous about something.”

  He raises his eyebrows and watches me dig something out of my shirt pocket. I show it to him. “Ahh.” He says nothing else as I twirl my wedding band around my finger. The white gold reflects light from the fire.

  “I'll put it on in the morning as a Christmas gift to Maddie.”

  He rolls his eyes. “You’re such a romantic. So much in fact, you forget she is a manipulative cunt.”

  After Madison forced me, Crockett is not a big fan. Not that he’s ever been in the first place. “She’s never taken hers off.”

  He scoffs. “Only because she doesn’t want to show a tan line, and that rock is huge. I wouldn’t have taken it off either.”

  “She’s my wife, Crockett. And besides, you should be happy. Tainted District is doing well.”

  He swishes the drink around and around, swirling the ice through the scotch while studying me. “Let me ask you something. If Madison hadn’t threatened Taylor, would we have recorded Highway with Madison? Would you be trying to save your marriage?”

  My eye twitches and he gives a mirthless laugh when I don’t answer right away. “Because you guys didn’t want this, right?”

  “I’m speaking hypothetically,” he snaps, downs his drink, and sinks lower into the chair. “Of course, we did. Do. I’m just trying to get you to admit maybe a part of you wanted it too and Madison knew that.”

  “No, I didn’t want it.” My answer comes out harsh. He smirks. “Damn you. Leave it alone.”

  We sit in silence. I’m not sure what’s going through his mind, but it looks like a war is raging on in there. He grabs the scotch bottle he placed by his feet to fill his drink.

  I stuff the ring in my pocket as he opens a book and reads. “What’re you reading?”

  Lifting a shoulder, he ignores my question. My heart stops as I try to get a look at the cover. Finally, he lifts it. “When did that come out?” I manage, sounding choked and feeling regretful.