Out on the balcony, his fears were only slightly abated.
"We re-wrote up the documents, David. She wanted a bifurcation to the date you moved out of the martial home so she could..."
Dave hung his head as his lawyer trailed off. Jordyn had wanted a quick, painless divorce. She wanted to be free and clear of the mess Dave had made of her life so she could start over with Jonathon. Just another person in her life that would end up letting her down.
We can haggle over the bullshit later, he remembered her snapping at him in a sweltering parking garage outside their lawyer's office. It was her response to his final attempt at him begging for her to let him come home, the final nail in the coffin.
"Yeah...," he replied softly, trying to shake the memory. "Yeah, okay. I just needed to double check. And... and everything with Elizabeth is legit, right?"
A confused pause drifted through the phone and then, "What exactly are you asking me, David?"
He sighed heavily and dropped into one of the chairs, spreading his hand across his forehead as he relayed just enough information necessary to his buttoned-up, by-the-book lawyer.
After an agonizingly long pause, the squeak of an office chair told him the line was still connected before his lawyer spoke again, "... I'm going to recommend you call the authorities, but knowing full well you won't do that, my next piece of advice would be restraining and no-contact orders for yourself, your family, Ms. Blum, and any close business associates."
"How long will that take?"
"I can have them in front of a judge in about an hour. Unless you're in immediate danger, in which case I'm going to again recommend..."
His instructions faded out as the sinking feeling pulled Dave back into his chair. He felt like he was drifting slowly to the bottom of a pool, the sounds around him murky and uneven. Somehow, he couldn't place just exactly when, he had lost his way. Maybe this was his mid-life crisis showing up right on cue at 50, but somewhere along the line, he had lost himself.
So, he tried recalling the past 24 hours to see if the answer was hidden within.
*
The close quarters on the plane back from Portland had inspired a long overdue conversation between himself and Taylor and although at the time he wanted to be anywhere other than in that first class seat, it was cathartic. Everything was out now, there was no need for any more side-eyes or scathing comments said under one's breath, everything had been laid bare.
There was a lingering hug in the first class lounge when they deplaned, a few short and sentimental sentences that affirmed their friendship and they were off into the LA sunshine.
Taylor had dozed off in the cab, leaving Dave to deal with the starstruck driver alone and by the time he dragged himself and his suitcase up the steps to the bedroom, he was spent. With his clothes carelessly discarded on the floor beside the bed, he dove into the pillows and almost immediately fell asleep.
"Is that where we're going?" she yelled across the water to him, wobbling a little on her paddleboard as she pointed excitedly at the grouping of waterfalls at the edge of the Hawaiian island.
"Way to ruin the surprise, Elizabeth!" he teased back at her and earned a sarcastic middle finger in response.
He chuckled and dipped his paddle in the water to move closer to her, but the left side of his board lifted gently, upsetting his balance enough that he dropped to his knees to lower his center of gravity.
"You okay, babe?" she called over the water.
He opened his mouth to reply just as his board received another bump, this time on the nose, and a strange, brief buzzing sound emanated from the dark water.
"Dave? Are you okay?"
He wanted to stop her, scream at her to stay where she was, but whatever was in the water hit his board much harder and the same buzzing noise filled his ears. Looking up to make sure she was far enough away, he froze when he saw her board was empty, floating peacefully on the calm surface of the ocean as if it had drifted out there by itself. The buzzing sound came again, urgent and relentless when he tossed his paddle into the water and dove in after her.
His eyes sprang open and it took him a moment to understand that the cold he felt wasn't the Pacific, but waves of fear. He sleepily shook off the dream and reached for his phone only to let it be when he saw the screen was still dark.
"Babe, answer your phone."
The phone buzzed twice more before he begrudgingly pulled himself up and reached across her to silence it himself.
Coffee. He needed coffee.
He was just building up the motivation to leave the warm sheets when he noticed her standing beside the bed. Butterflies exploded in his chest when he realized she had come home early, an entire day early just to be with him and if he'd had the energy, he would have crawled across the bed and pulled her in with him. But... she was already in bed. He had just leaned over her to shut off her obnoxious phone, so who...
By the time he looked back up, Liz was gone. She'd taken off like a startled deer and the loud thud that came from the steps made his heart sink. Calliope whined when he scrambled to follow Liz, his mind reeling over what she had just seen. She'd come home from her most favorite place in the world a full day early to surprise him and found him in bed with...
"Get the fuck up," he barked, storming back into the bedroom and heading for his closet.
"But Davey," she whined, rolling around lazily in the sheets. "I don't feel good."
He had to focus on getting dressed to prevent himself from running out there and snapping her neck. She was in Liz's place, the one place that was just for them and them alone, and now it was tainted by-
"Davey, just come back to bed!"
No, he was definitely going to snap her neck.
Still struggling with his white shirt, he snatched up an errant piece of clothing next to a pair of ridiculous lucite heels and flung it at her face. "Get dressed. Now."
"But-"
The second she protested he pounced on her, harshly grabbing her upper arm and hauling her to her feet. "You're going to get dressed and then you're going to tell my wife exactly what happened here. Do you understand?"
He gave her a total of two seconds before shaking her. "Do you understand?"
"Y- yeah. Yes," she stammered and began to pull on her clothes, shaking her hips far more than what Dave would consider necessary, even for a skin-tight dress.
As soon as she was somewhat decent, he clamped his hand over her arm again and dragged her behind him until he was shoving her into the front seat of his truck. He was seething with rage at that point, sure that Liz was either halfway back to the airport or Malibu by now.
He took a deep breath before starting the truck, worried he'd end up killing them both if he tried to drive at that moment. "How long were you there?"
"Where?" she asked flippantly, her nails clicking off her phone screen as she scrolled through Instagram.
Swatting her phone out of her hands and onto the floorboards, he leaned across the console to get directly in her shocked face. "In my fucking bed, Cal. How long were you in my bed?"
"Oh. Um... most of the night, I guess."
The truck lurched violently when he threw it into gear and punched the gas, the brakes squealing loudly when he spotted the very back corner of Liz's truck in the Hawkins' driveway. He was relieved he wouldn't have to search the entirety of LA for her, but knowing she had run to Taylor made his heart twist.
No more words were exchanged between him and Calliope, he just ripped his door open, stormed around to yank her out of the passenger seat and up to the front door. His arm gripped as tightly as possible around her arm and though he knew he was hurting her, he didn't give a fuck. She had caused all of this, stepped too far over the line too many times and now she had to face the consequences.
"You're going to tell her exactly what happened, Cal. No bullshit. And you're going to refer to her as my wife. Do you understand?" he realized he sounded a bit like his own father that one time he got caught smoking weed as a teenager and just hoped Calliope was as scared as he was back then.
He glared at her to drive his point home before glancing in the window beside the door. His fist raised to knock but halted in midair when he saw them at the end of the long hallway that led to the kitchen, huddled together under the island. Her face was hidden in Taylor's shoulder and he was speaking to her, then touching her. Stroking her hair and her back, lifting her face to look at her.
Fuck knocking, this was an emergency now. He tried the handle and found it locked, yanking on it as hard as he could without taking his eyes off of them.
"Don't do it, motherfucker," he heard himself whisper, "Don't you fucking dare. Don't even think ab-"
But Taylor's hand curled around the back of Liz's head and flexed, bringing her lips to his. Dave's fists met the door with the same amount of fury that was roiling in his blood. Tunnel vision set in when Liz's hands crept from Taylor's arms to his shoulders and into finally into his hair, making Dave smash his palm against the doorbell. His hearing was now reduced to a high pitched reverb-like squeal and he thought maybe the doorbell was broken, but they seemed to hear it. They shoved away from each other with a satisfying amount of shock, their heads shaking and defensive stances set forth to prevent the other's movements.
And then they were in front of him, the door swinging wide and their faces the picture of false composure. Looking between the two, he knew he could address their little make-out session later. At the moment he needed Liz to understand what she had seen.
"Tell her," he demanded, dragging Calliope to stand in front of Liz.
It was like pulling teeth to get Calliope to talk and he knew the more he goaded her, the sooner she would snap and reveal the truth. Maybe it was her hangover or maybe the murderous glint in Liz's eye, Dave wasn't sure, but she caved faster than anticipated and sent the four of them into chaos. He was in Calliope's face, yelling himself hoarse when he realized Liz wasn't there anymore.
Leaving Taylor to deal with the sociopath in the white dress, he bolted into the house and to his surprise found Liz sitting in front of the coffee table doing paperwork. He wanted to tear the papers from her hands and make her focus, make her realize that he had no idea Calliope was in that bed, that he was counting down the hours until she came home, but the moment he reached out to grab for the first paper he saw their names.
Petitioner, Respondent... Dissolution.
His arm snapped back and his knees hit the rug with a crack. "Liz, baby...," he choked down a sob, "Please listen to me..."
Please don't leave me....
*
With the necessary information gleaned from his lawyer, he thanked him for expediting the no-contact orders and ended the call.
"Am I still your wife?"
He looked over his shoulder and found her hiding partially behind their bedroom curtains, peeking anxiously out at him. Without thinking, he opened his arms for her and she hesitated only a split second before folding herself into his lap as best she could.
"Legally you're still mine," he said quietly, brushing her hair off her face. "Whether you want to be or not is your call."
She was silent for what felt like hours. Her head was nestled in his favorite spot on his shoulder and her arms were tight around his waist, but he could practically hear the fabric that made up the two of them being torn apart. She was building up the courage to tell him she wanted out and he couldn't blame her one bit.
Then all of a sudden she was on her feet, smoothing her shirt over her belly as she held her other hand up to indicate he should stay put. No verbal instructions or excuses were given, so he was forced to nervously drum on his thighs while he waited. He tried not to time her, but exactly six minutes later she returned with her arms full and sat down beside him.
In one hand she had the stack of divorce papers and in the other she held the shredder from her office, setting the latter down between the two little chairs on the balcony and plugging it into the outlet behind her. She separated the papers into two stacks and handed him the top half.
"I um... I kissed Taylor," she said with a shaky voice.
He held her stare and tried to soften his gaze as much as possible, "I know."
"I'm sorry."
"I know."
He watched her with a heady dose of relief as she hit the button on the shredder and fed the first few pages through to the satisfying sound of destruction.