I wake up in a groggy haze; Laurel is passed out beside me, her pretty face covered in purple bruises after her match. My phone is ringing, and when I got to answer it I see Brandi’s name. I freeze. I leap out of bed, darting out of the bedroom before answering the phone. I’m down to my underwear, but I didn’t have time to get dressed before running out into her living room. “Hello?” I answer the phone softly; I certainly don’t want to wake up Laurel while I’m talking to my ex-wife on the phone.

“Hey,” I hear Brandi’s voice speaking in the same soft tone that I am.

“Brandi,” I say, and I’m sure she can hear the desperation in my tone. “It’s good to hear your voice.”

“I told you to stop calling me…” she says, “But, thank you for that message…”

“Oh,” I say, feeling somewhat embarrassed, “You got that, did you?”

“You weren’t drunk when you left it, were you?” she asks.

“No, Brandi!” I say quickly, “Of course not. I’m getting sober, I swear.”

“Okay, geeze, calm down,” she says. “I just wanted to tell you that I got your message. It was… sweet.”

I smile, “I’m glad you think that. Look, I know you said you’re seeing someone else, and I get that. I’m okay with that, I guess. I just wish you’d talk to me. I’d like to see you, if that’s-”

“Um… not now. I’m really busy right now,” she says, sounding flushed. She is probably round as a pumpkin right now, and it’s obvious she doesn’t want me finding out about the baby.

“Later, maybe?” I ask.

There is a long pause. “Maybe,” she says, “But I really am seeing someone else, Jonathan. I don’t want to… I don’t want to make you think… I don’t know. I’m not interested in you anymore, Jonathan. I’m not, and I’m sorry.”

“Okay,” I say, “that’s fine. I just hate the way we left things. I want you to see that I’m better. That I’m different. I’m not the same person anymore. I have a job. I’m in AA, and I haven’t had a thing to drink since we last spoke. I’m doing better, Brandi. I want you to know that. And I spoke with a manager the other day. It’s nothing official, but maybe I can get back into boxing. I don’t know. We’ll see, I guess. I just... I just don’t want you thinking that I’m some joke. Because I do care what you think, Brandi.”

She is quiet again. Distantly, in the background, I hear a man’s voice, “-who are you talking to, baby-” and it is like someone just jabbed me right in my stomach.

“Jonathan,” she says to me, “I have to go.”

“Okay,” I say, “Think about what I said. I really would like to see you, Brandi.”

“Goodbye, Jonathan,” she says, but she doesn’t sound angry. Just sad.

I hang up the phone and run my fingers through my hair. From the corner of my eye, I see Laurel standing in the doorway of her bedroom, staring at me. Shit. She’s wearing my t-shirt, and she looks so beautiful even with that bruised face of hers. “Was that your ex-wife?” she asks, and I can tell instantly that she’s annoyed with me.

I sit upright. I’m not going to lie to her. “Yeah,” I say, “she called me.”

She looks really pissed, but she doesn’t say it. “Am I getting in the middle of anything I shouldn’t be, Jonathan?” she asks.

I scoot over and pat the seat on the couch next to me. She rolls her eyes and comes and plops down beside me. “Brandi hates me,” I say, “and to be honest with you, it hurts still. I cared about her, and I still do, but there’s nothing there that can be saved. Not anymore. She’s with someone else, and so am I.”

She gives me this sad smile. “So what, I’m like, your girlfriend now?”

I laugh, “That sounds pretty damn good to me.” My laugh fades. “I guess there’s something I should tell you, and I hope it doesn’t scare you off because I actually like you.” She crosses her arms, and she looks a little nervous as I take on this more serious tone. “Brandi doesn’t know that I know, but she’s pregnant. I’m going to be a father, and she’s keeping it a secret from me. I understand, Laurel, if that’s just too much baggage-”

“That fucking bitch!” she shrieks before I have a chance to finish my carefully rehearsed words; I figured I would have to tell Laurel about this eventually. Laurel sits upright. “She can’t do that to you! That’s your kid too. Why do women think that they can do shit like that?”

“I thought you’d be mad at me,” I say, “not Brandi.”

“I’m sorry, but that’s just stupid of you to think that. Who the hell does she think she is?” Laurel hisses. “Oh, this is just total bullshit,” she stands up and starts pacing. “You’re going to be a father –you should have every right to that kid as she does. Have you talked to a lawyer yet? Shit, that’s right, you’re talking to Bobby. Does he do custody cases? Do you think he could help? I bet with you being in AA that could help some, and you’ve had a steady job for a while too-”

“Laurel, chill,” I say, “I’m working on it. Honestly, I’m hoping it can be more civil than a long-winded custody battle. Right now I’m just working on showing Brandi that I’m not a drunken asshole… anymore.” Then a smile. “Thank you for worrying about me.” I pull out my phone and show her the ultrasound picture, and she smiles as she sits back down beside me.

“Look at that baby’s little fists!” she laughs, “Like a little boxer!”

I smile. “Yeah,” I say, “I just wish I could be a part of everything. Right now, I’m just trying to get her to tell me.”

“Listen, Jonathan,” Laurel says and takes my face into her hands, “I’m so sorry about all of this. She’s not being fair to you. And a baby? That’s not baggage. I’m happy for you, and I want you to know that-” My phone starts ringing again. Laurel frowns, “If that’s Brandi, I’m slapping the shit out of you.”

I check my phone. “I don’t know this number.”

“Answer it,” she says with the wave of her hand.

I do, and I wish that I didn’t. “Mr. Trial, this is Officer Carpenter. We spoke a few months ago?”

My mind goes back to the night of Gabe’s murder, and I shiver. Officer Carpenter had been one of the officers who had pulled me out of the car; he was part of the murder investigation. “Yes, sir,” I say, “I remember.”

“We already spoke with Gabriel’s parents, and they felt you should be kept informed on the case,” he begins.

I sit upright, and I can see Laurel staring at me with a concerned expression. “Is there an update?” I ask.

“We found the guy’s car,” he said, “the guy abandoned the car and took it’s plates… he also scratched off the vin number, so it’s not much of a lead at all, but it’s a start.”

My voice shakes, “Is that all?”

“As of right now, yes sir. Do you wish to continue to be updated?” he asks.

“Yes, yes, please,” I say, “and if there’s anything I can do, please, let me know.”

“Will do, Mr. Trial,” he says before hanging up the phone.

I’m quiet. My hand shakes as I put my phone down. Any little thing can just snap my mind back to that night without warning, and it makes me sick. I can’t get it out of my head; Gabe’s hand grabbing me, crying out in fear as that psychopath approached the car. His blood splattering all over me. Laurel suddenly puts her arms around me, and I realize she only did that because I had started crying. I don’t want her to see this side of me. I don’t want anyone to see this side of me.