Not Another Line

1.Neighborly Advice

The Falling Sky // Greta Van Fleet

Clinton - 1 year ago

I fucked up. To be honest, I've been fucking up. For years. But I was too focused, too driven, too damn stupid to know the difference.

I thought I was serving my country. But my wife was left to deal with everything at home. I left the military to join the police force and serve my community. But my family worried I wouldn't return home from my shift every time I walked out the door. The public backlash against every cop on the planet didn't help.

I won't even think about what that did to my marriage.

I can't. Not when my world is imploding around me. I turned everything upside down six months ago to avoid this exact situation. One minute I was taking my daughter to her karate lesson, and the next her teacher, Zack, was asking me to help his girlfriend with security. His girlfriend just happened to be Brianna Royce, world famous pop star and America's sweetheart. What started out as a consultation over a stalker turned into a full-time gig.

I thought once I left the force and became head of security for a famous singer, the drama would end. I thought my wife would breathe a sigh of relief and finally settle into life with me.

I was dead fucking wrong.

She told me she was done. She couldn't love a man who wasn't focused on her. She walked out and took our daughter with her. And yet, somehow, I'm still here on my knees begging her to give us another chance.

"Fuck!" I toss the worthless pen across the room. It's not inspiring the right words. Not that words are my thing. I'm not a guy who says how he's feeling but I'm trying like hell to write something that will inspire Mara to trash the divorce papers before she signs them. I'm a man of action not words, especially because I'm usually choosing all the wrong ones. Now more than ever I need the right ones.

I glance down at the lines I've managed to scratch out.

'If I could do things differently I would. But from now until forever I promise to put you first. Please give us another chance.'

I sit back. Rereading the last few words I wrote and picturing Mara's reaction, all I can imagine is the scowl she's been giving me for the last five years. Probably longer but I was deployed for the first half of our marriage so who knows.

"Shit." I curse again because this pathetic excuse for a letter won't fix what's been broken. I crumple the paper in my hands, defeated. I walk to the nearest trash can and dump the evidence of my ineptitude. I'm not a writer, far from it.

While contemplating all of the ways I've screwed up my life, my phone pings. I take a deep breath when I see it's Zack and not Mara. She stopped texting me a long time ago.

Zack: Colleen should be all settled in. We finished unloading boxes while you were at the gym.

Colleen Mackenzie, a girl from Zack's hometown who's now one of Brianna's best friends just moved into the other side of my duplex

Me: Good to know.

Zack: Bree and I feel a lot better knowing you're next door. Hollywood is a far cry from Silver Valley.

Me: Sure. I'll keep an eye out for her.

When Colleen decided to make the move from a small ranching town to Hollywood, Brianna convinced me to let her take the empty unit. "For safety," she'd said. Against my better judgement, I said yes. I bought the property shortly after Mara left me and kept the other unit vacant the entire time. I decided on a duplex figuring I'd turn it into the headquarters for my budding security business. The last thing I wanted was to add a cohabitator into the mix.