“I don’t like the location,” I said as I stood next to my truck in an empty parking lot off Murray Blvd. and Tualatin Valley Highway. “I told you I don’t want a property on T.V. Highway.”

“But you’re close to Nike and Intel,” Tim replied, unable to hide the frustration in his voice.

This was the eighth property Tim Roche, my property developer, had shown me in the last two days. I could see he was very near the end of his rope and ready to drop me as a client. But I didn’t think I had the fortitude to recover from another bad decision. I needed to get the location of the new office right the first time.

“It’s closer to Nike. I’d rather be closer to Intel. What’s next?” I asked, sliding behind the wheel of my truck.

Tim sighed. “I only have two more properties that meet the criteria. One is about a block from where you are now, in the adjacent business park. The other one is almost brand new. It’s a good location, but it will be expensive to buy the building and redesign it to suit your needs. I’ll text you the address.”

“How expensive?” I asked when I saw the address.

“About four times what you wanted to spend. It’s on Amberglen. They’re building a ton of apartments for the growing tech community. Commercial real estate in the area is spiking.”

“Let’s take a look.”

I forwarded the address to Barry in a separate text. As I pulled out of the lot onto Murray Blvd., a call came in from Barry.

“What’s up, man? You almost here?” I asked.

“Yeah, mate. Google says I’ll be there in about fifteen.”

“See you then.”

I let out a heavy sigh as I realized it was beyond too late to get out of this business venture with Barry. It seemed like a really fucking stupid idea to go into business with the husband of my cheating wife’s best friend. But Barry was my friend before Drea and Laurel became BFFs. If anyone needed to change their social life to accommodate the new state of our marriage it should be her not me.

God, my thoughts sounded like the thoughts of a jilted teenager.

I pulled into the well-manicured business park on Amberglen Parkway, taking in the two tidy brick office buildings and brightly painted parking spaces. There were even a half-dozen chargers for electric vehicles. Construction appeared to be near completion on two trendy apartment complexes across the street. This was a perfect location. It was a good thing my lawyer, Larry Goodman, was in the final stages of negotiating my $244 million buyout package with Halo.

As I stepped out of the truck, Barry pulled his blue Tesla into a space nearby. Tim’s combover fluttered in the November wind as he approached my truck.

“It looks perfect,” I said. “But I want both buildings.”

Tim shook his head. “The other building’s occupied by a medical equipment sales company. Not on the market.”

“Everything’s for sale. I want them both.”

Tim sighed. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Barry squinted his eyes against the bright overcast clouds as he approached. “This will cost an arm and leg. You sure you want to take on that kind of risk, mate?”

I cocked an eyebrow. “Why? Have you heard rumblings of someone wanting to take me for all I’ve got?”

Tim clapped me on the arm. “I’d better get going so I can start working on the proposal. I’ll call you if I need anything.”

Barry shook his head. “I’ve heard no such rumblings,” he replied, slipping his hands into his pockets as he looked at the buildings. “Laurel’s staying in the guest room, you know? Thom and Colin are over the moon about it. I… don’t know what she’s planning to do with the baby, but one thing is for certain. From what I’ve gathered, Laurel was too drunk to know what or who she was doing that night, mate. And… the baby’s one hundred percent yours.”

My stomach lurched at this news. “One hundred percent mine? How do you know that?”

“Drea says he told Laurel he can’t have kids. Got snipped a couple years ago after a close call of sorts.”

“A vasectomy? How old is he?”

Barry shook his head. “That I don’t know, mate.”

My head spun with all the scenarios I’d been playing in my mind for the past few days: Laurel and I back together; me raising another man’s child; me refusing to raise another man’s child and being no better than Laurel’s father; me breaking up with Laurel and sending her straight into that motherfucker’s arms, only to find out the baby is mine. None of the scenarios I imagined included finding out the baby was mine this early. Then, a horrifying thought entered my mind.

I glared at Barry. “What do you mean you don’t know what she’s planning to do with the baby?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve heard her talking to Drea. Seems she isn’t sure she can hack it being a single mum and all.”

A drop of rain fell on my cheek as I tried to imagine how I got to this point. How did we get here? Did Laurel seriously expect that she would have to raise our child alone?

I clenched my teeth as I digested this thought, then I took a deep breath and nodded as I let it out slowly. “Thanks, man,” I said as my mind scrambled for an excuse to leave. “I’ve got some errands to run, but we should grab a beer tomorrow. I’ll text you later.”

“See you later, mate.”

As I stepped inside the Columbia Gorge Hotel, I was once again reminded of the last time I was here with Laurel. There were at least a dozen other lodging choices I had in Hood River, but I told myself that I came back here because of the familiarity, something I desperately needed now. But this time I stopped in the middle of the lobby and considered turning around. I didn’t need the suitcase Laurel packed for me and had Drea deliver to the hotel.

Then, as I stood in the middle of the warmly lit lobby, surrounded by the scent of freshly cut flowers, an infuriating thought came to me. If Laurel was too drunk to know what or who she was doing that night, didn’t that mean she was too drunk to consent?

“Is there something I can help you with, Mr. Stratton?” the man working the front desk asked cheerfully.

I shook my head, then corrected myself and nodded at him. “Yes. Can you check me out and have someone courier my things to my home address? You can charge the courier to the room. I have somewhere I need to be.”

It was about time I confronted that motherfucker.

As I sat in traffic on I-84, I began to wonder what the fuck I planned to get out of a conversation with Isaac. Did I plan to ask him if he took advantage of my wife? Was that supposed to be the opener for an adult conversation? Or was I just going to attack him without any proof that he’d done anything at all?

What the fuck was I doing?

I shook my head and started making my way to the nearest exit. I was sliding into the same fucking patterns as before: revenge before justice. Had I not learned a single thing from the turmoil Laurel and I had endured?

I punched the steering wheel. “Fuck!”

The sedan in front of me honked their horn in response. Ten minutes later, I finally navigated my way through the traffic and exited the freeway near the Troutdale Airport. I hung a left and got right back on I-84 going east, back to Hood River. Traffic was clear, but my mind was a tangled mess.

I thought about Halo and all the reasons I’d decided to leave. Ultimately, I didn’t like being an information broker.

I knew the apps we made at Halo were not the product we were selling. The users of the apps were the product. The apps were free. We sold data collected through our apps to public relations and advertising agencies.

We had a behavioral psychologist on staff who helped us hone in on the inner workings of the minds and habits of our users. Our job wasn’t to make great apps. Our job was to figure out how to get users to click on more ads and hand over more of their personal information.

The more data we had on our users, the more accurately the users could be segmented into increasingly specific target groups. The more specific the target, the more valuable the data was to the companies that bought it. And since Halo was a social networking app that used scientific research to help people communicate more effectively, our data was in very high demand.

But I didn’t want to spend my life trying to figure out how to get some poor soul to click on an ad or log into their new dating app using Halo. I didn’t want to lure someone in with the promise of never sending another cringe-y text message, just so I could glean targeting information from the content of their messages and profiles and GPS data.

I left Halo because it became something very different than what I created, and it took two years of distancing myself from the company to finally open my eyes to what we’d become. Was I going to leave Laurel for being a different person than the one I married? Wasn’t that what marriage was about, staying with someone through all the changes, the good and the bad?

As I approached our house in Hood River, I was surprised to see my suitcase on the step right next to the front door. The hotel concierge was very quick about getting my things sent to the house. I’d have to make sure to send the desk clerk a nice gratuity.

I pulled my truck into the garage and hit the button on the remote clipped to my visor. Turning off the car, I sat in the truck for a while, trying to make sense of everything: Laurel’s vows, Brandon’s adoption, Beth and Mark’s divorce while Laurel was at OSU, my wedding vows, the murders, the breakdown of my marriage, Laurel leaving, the hate-fuck, telling her I wanted a divorce then disappearing.

I shook my head as I realized I was partly to blame for what happened between Laurel and Isaac. How could we endure all that and still love each other? I couldn’t even imagine a life without Laurel. Losing her wasn’t an option.

I wasn’t fighting for my marriage when I left for Boise last month. I wasn’t even fighting for justice. I was just fighting. It had been me against the world for the last two years and I was just so fucking exhausted.

I let out a heavy sigh and called Jade, who answered on the second ring. “Jade, I need you to compile a list of therapists in southwest Portland who specialize in grief counseling. Send me the list from your new email address.”

“Sure thing. Is everything okay?” she replied in her usual cheery tone.

I was silent for a moment as I contemplated this question. “Yeah… Yeah, I’m okay.”

I wanted to call Laurel and share the epiphany I’d just had. I wanted to ask her if the baby was really mine, and to tell her that there was no way I would let her raise our child alone. I wanted to hold her and tell her that we’d get through this. But every time I looked at her name on my phone, I kept imagining her with him.

I wasn’t ready. I might never be ready to be with Laurel again. But after everything we’d been through, I couldn’t just give up on us. I was going to fight like hell for my marriage this time. And I wasn’t going to do it by confronting Laurel or declaring war on the world.

This time, I had to battle myself.

Just me against my demons. An all out heavyweight brawl. And I had no intention of going down without one helluva fight.