“It’s not all black and white, Beth!”
She slammed down her glass. It chipped, and the martini sloshed over the side and onto the end table. “That’s why I suggested the f*****g counseling!”
* * * *
It doesn’t matter, Brian kept telling himself as he walked past the mansions on East Avenue, his eyes scanning each cement block of the sidewalk, his hands jammed stubbornly in his pockets. None of it matters.
Beth could scream all she wanted to. Sheila could ignore him for all eternity. What was the point of anything anyway? When he tried to share stuff with either of them, they always steered the conversations away, put up walls, half-listened to what he was saying or just totally ignored him.
And now, as he tried to call Jason, there was no answer. It was only 10:30, and he wasn’t picking
