(This is unedited and cut. Some parts might feel repetitive, that's the process sometimes. Figuring out which works better. Anywhooooooo... enjoy!)
Taylor’s phone buzzed on the dresser, yanking her from a restless night of sleep. It had only been a few days since that night, but her mind kept replaying it like it mattered more than it should have.
She groaned, squinting at the screen. Her pulse kicked up when she saw “Restricted” flashing across it. She already knew who it was.
She should’ve let it go to voicemail. God knew he deserved that much. But fifteen years of being told they were meant to be was hard to ignore. Fifteen years of hearing that their relationship was “ordained” was the reason she was still answering.
Truthfully? She never wanted to hear it again.
What kind of ordained love left you stranded in hospital parking lots? What kind of divine plan came with DUIs, empty promises, and nights spent praying your husband didn’t kill himself, or someone else, on the way home?
She’d been raised to believe marriage was sacred, that perseverance built character, and that any trial could be overcome with prayer. And while she still respected the faith she was raised in, she was starting to feel really different about it these days. It was beginning to feel performative and not relational. Her mother would disagree, but they’d just have to agree to disagree.
She was also taught that God wanted good things for His children, and that’s the part she was choosing to hold onto now. Because he didn’t create women just to suffer in silence. Love wasn’t supposed to have you fighting for your sanity.
And lately, the devil on her shoulder was starting to sound a whole lot like common sense.
The fight for her marriage had long since ended. What they had? Already buried. Dead.
Once upon a time, they had everything to look forward to—dreams, aspirations, goals bigger than themselves. Tyree wanted to open a gospel recording studio. And she believed he could do it. But Coupeville could feel big and small at the same time. A few No's and closed doors in his face turned into a slow descent of bad choices.
At seventeen, she didn’t know she was falling for potential. But that’s exactly what it was—falling for his dreams, not his drive. For the future he imagined, not the effort it required. And she still cared about his well being it was why she answered. She couldn't pinpoint what it was because he wasn't a wolf in sheep's clothing, well at least he didn't set out to be.
He didn’t know at seventeen he wasn’t going to be shit yet. But trauma and life have a way of reshaping you. His dreams had soured and having to depend on Taylor was another point of tension. They’d been on the verge of breaking for a while.
“Hello,” she asked, rolling over. Her eyes landing on the Mercedes keys sitting on her nightstand, next to her half-empty glass of wine from the night before. A soft reminder of the difference.
“Taylor,” he croaked. “They holdin’ me like I did something serious. I ain’t even hit nobody. I didn’t even fight. But they talkin’ about priors and danger to the public, like I’m some kind of damn criminal.”
She closed her eyes. He sounded tired. Worn. But not sorry. “Tyree, you are a criminal. You broke the law. They have a duty.”
“Baby, I messed up. I know I did. But I’m not a bad person. I just been having a lot going on.” His voice was rough, familiar, but pathetic. So broken she’d never been more clear that someone wasn’t her assignment any more than before. She closed her eyes.
“Here we go.”
“They wouldn’t even give me a bond until this morning,” he added, voice rising now. “Talking about my record. I thought you would show up. Say something. Help me out. I was looking for you.”
There it was. The real reason for the call. Not love. Not regret. Just another plea for her to play defense for a man who couldn’t stay out of his own way.
“I can’t do this anymore, Tyree.”
“I know I fucked up, but I need you. Please.”
Silence stretched between them. Then, he inhaled sharply. He knew he’d run out of chances, but he also had to try. He had to keep up with the performance. His parents had never cared about him. They’d left him with his grandparents at a young age. His grandparents were gone, and now all he had was his aunt. And his aunt was done with his shit too. He'd burned so many bridges with his lying and scheming. It was her that was the last one to catch on.
She should’ve blocked him. Should’ve left that jail call on the line where it belonged. But old habits don’t break easily, and Tyree had always known how to make her second-guess herself when he was at his lowest.
“Taylor, please not right now with the dramatic shit. Just help me get out, and we can talk about it. I’ll do better. I’ll go back to the meetings.”
“No.” Her voice was steadier than she expected. “I’ll help you get out, but you need to find somewhere else to stay. I’m done.”
“Done? Baby, you can’t be serious.”
“Well, I am. I’m dead serious.” The words felt like freedom, a long time coming. “I’ll send the bondsman, but this is the last time you embarrass me and waste my time. I’ve supported you through AA, rehab, and unemployment. What more do you want from me?”
“Embarrass you?” His voice turned defensive, the desperation fading as anger settled in. His sharp teeth always found a way to show eventually. The wolf was about to emerge. The person she didn’t know until a few years ago, and never wanted to entertain again. “What about me, Taylor? You really just gon’ throw me away? After everything? After fifteen years?”
“Throw you away?” she repeated, her voice even dangerously. She was about to step out of character, but she paused, closed her eyes and continued. “Tyree, you threw yourself away. Every chance you had to do right, to get better, you wasted it.”
“Oh, so now you perfect?” His tone was ice now, cutting. “Always on that holier than thou bullshit.”
“Tyree, what the fu- freak are you talking about?” The mess he was spewing was about to send her through the roof. She refused to let him twist this into her fault. Not again. His drinking problem was his to solve. She’d been sticking it out with him for so long that she couldn’t even remember when it started. It was a slow roll out of broken promises, lies, coming in late, money missing/ Thinking about it pissed her off even more. In her mind, it started because he was weak.
And she understood addiction, she understood the silent battles, but this was different because he could get the help he needed he’d made the choice not to, time and time again.
“See, that’s what I'm talking about. That’s the shit you do. That shit right there. You make me sick with it.”
“And what is that?” she asked rolling her eyes even though he couldn’t see her.
“That proper shit. That fixing your words shit. That ‘I can’t say fuck because Jesus might hear me’ bullshit. You don’t think I see how you look at me? How you barely let me touch you? How you keep sending them job listings, reminding me of my unemployment when you know I have dreams. You treat me like I’m some project you gotta fix.”
“So, my supporting you time and time again is me acting like I’m better than you? You sound ridiculous.”
“Nah, I’m in my right mind. You been gave up on me years ago. I’m beneath you, I see it in your eyes.”
Taylor rolled her eyes, He was feeling some type of way and letting his truth spill—and even if it was bullshit, she needed to hear it.
“You need to take accountability for your actions. Because it’s you who gave up on you. I just refuse to keep sinking with you at this point.”
“What will your parents say?” he shot back. She stilled. Because that was the thing, he thought that would stop her this time. And two weeks ago, it probably would’ve, but she’d come to terms with what she had to do. She’d come to terms with the real fact that everyone expected something from her that just didn’t work for her anymore. She glanced over and spotted the keys again. This time she smiled.
“I don’t know, and I don’t plan on speaking about this with anyone until I’m ready,” she said flatly. “This is our business. And it’s embarrassing enough.”
“Here you go with that bullshit again.”
“Yep, here I go. So understand this, and hear me clearly, Tyree. This is your problem. Not mine. You and I are done, no love lost, but no. I can’t. And I won’t. Bye. Enjoy your damn life.”
She didn’t wait for his response. She didn’t let him scramble for another excuse, another point of manipulation. She just ended the call and got under the covers.
And just like that, it was over. Not legally. Not on paper. But in her soul. In her mind. That was her goodbye.
She finally stopped feeling guilty about putting herself first. For once, it didn’t feel selfish; it felt necessary. This was her life. And even if she had to work every day at choosing herself, it was what she would do, until it became second nature.