Blah Blah Blah

Weeks passed and Jonathan had begun to drive himself into a depression. Not only was his problem not going away, she was on his ass twenty four seven. He was forced to shut his phone off last night at dinner, she had called twelve times. Not only was the woman persistent, she was down right evil. The threats that poured out of her mouth constantly, how she would go to the press if he didn't agree to pay child support, and how she would humiliate him if he wasn't there for her during her pregnancy. It was so hard not to step in, grab the phone and tell her where to shove it, but we were adults now. This wasn't my place to step in, she was Jonathan's problem. All I could do was sit back and support him.

He tells both Patrick and I he's fine, yet nearly every night one of our phone's go off with him on the other line, drunk and needing a ride home. It doesn't matter what we say, he shuts us out, so we just stopped saying anything all together. The last thing I wanted was for him to cut us out completely and suffer alone.

I glance over at him, and he's smiling. It's nice to see, but i know he's thinking about the child that may or may not be his. He shakes the hand of some country singer who just praised him for being a talented player.

The people's choice awards. It's a big event and I've never attended. I was thrilled when Patrick came home and said that the team had been asked to come and present an award. It took me weeks to find the perfect dress, and even longer to find shoes. Now, sitting in a blue dress with black pumps, my heart is bubbling with happiness as the guys get recognized for their greatness.

"Babe!" Patrick pulls me to my feet.

He pulls me forward to meet the most beautiful man I have ever seen. Instantly, my cheeks are hot, and even more than that… my legs feel like jello. Tom Hardy, the man of my dreams, standing in front of me. He's in a gray suit, which normally wouldn't be my preference, but he sure makes it so. He flashes an imperfectly perfect smile, and I realize that I haven't said a word yet.

"Hi!" I blurt out, thrusting my hand toward him.

He laughs and shakes it. Firm, "Hello, you look lovely."

Patrick nudges me. It takes all I have not to punch him in the jaw. This is the one man I would consider leaving him for, he has to back off.

"I introduced myself," Patrick explained, "I told him that he just had to meet my <i>lovely</i> wife because she was just a little bit of a fan."

I narrow my eyes, "Did you?"

"Oh yeah," he grins. Evil.

"I appreciate it," Tom says, trying to save me the embarrassment, "Very kind words."

"Well…" I can feel Patrick smirking, "You make great movies."

Tom thanks me again, and then explains how he must get back to his seat. Once he's out of range I push Pat roughly, but he's already almost toppled over laughing. This jerk enjoys when I'm humiliated, he lives for it.

"You make great movies," he's choking on his breath, "Out of everything to say!"

I smack him again, "It's a good compliment!"

"You should've just said he smells nice," Patrick's laughing so hard that his face is red.

"Keep laughing and I'm divorcing you," I joke.

The lights flicker, which means the shows about to start. I eagerly take my seat in between Pat and Jonny, and Patrick eagerly takes my hand. It's moments like these where I sit back in awe of how we've made it despite all of the odds. I could not be more proud of us, or of him.

***

"Round of tequila!"

I roll my eyes as everyone cheers. Jonathan has been ordering rounds all night and half the people here are people we don't know. He's extremely drunk, his eyes are drooping and he has that goofy grin on his face. I don't know if I should suggest pulling the plug and calling it a night.

Patrick doesn't seem worried. He's smiling and telling stories, dancing and drinking. He's so cute that I never wonder how we made such a cute boy. He's so much like his father. The thought makes me sad, I miss my little man. The neighbour, who has a little boy of her own, is watching him for the weekend so we could attend the PCA's. Levi loves Bennet, and they're the best of friends. Plus, his mother is probably the only woman I like on our block. I trust her but that doesn't mean I don't miss my son.

"You're married to that," Lindsay said, nodding at Patrick who had his tie around his head, "You must be so proud."

I smile, looking at the man who was dropping it low beside him, "And you're married to <i>that</i>, you must brag about him daily."

She laughs her sweet laugh. Like always, Lindsay looks perfect tonight. Her honey coloured hair is pulled back into a low bun and her tan skin seems to shimmer. I have gotten used to her perfection, her personality is equally as perfect.

"You're still babysitting even though Levi's back in Chicago," she jokes.

"It's true," I watch as Patrick spills his drink on his suit, "Always taking care of my boys."

"LEAH!" A body collides into me. I stumble forward as my drink falls from my hand and smashes on the floor. I nearly land face first in the mess, but Lindsay catches my arm just in time.

Jonathan is sweating, "How's my girl!"

"You need to take it easy," I tell him, "Maybe cut it back, you almost knocked me over."

Jonathan rolls his eyes, "Stop being dramatic and dance with me."

"I need to dry my dress off," I say, wiping my cleavage, "I have vodka coke all over me."

Jonathan ignores me and snatches my hand, dragging me to the dance floor. We sweep past Patrick and start dancing to the music. I let my soaked dress and wasted drink slide, if Jonathan was having a good time it was okay. His face is almost gleeful as he twirls me around the dance floor.

It was that moment when everything went down hill. He twirled me a little too hard and I collided with a woman who wasn't having a good night. Within a second I was being pushed, and before I had time to react there was a drink poured into my hair, covering me completely.

That was all it took.

I leaped forward, adrenaline in my veins. I grabbed the girl by the hair and pulled her back to me. She yelped, but not before I was in her face, squeezing her cheeks together like she was some pathetic child.

"If you ever touch me again, i'll wipe the floor with your face," I threatened.

"Let go of me," she demanded.

"I'd suggest just shutting your mouth right now," I snapped.

She reached for me again, and so I pulled my fist back. Suddenly, I was nineteen again, reckless and stupid. I didn't care about the fact that I was somebody's wife, or somebody's mother, all I was seeing was red. I waiting for my fist to connect, but it never did. I was being pulled away by a pair of strong arms.

"Let me go!" I demanded.

"What the fuck is going on!"

"Patrick!" I pushed and wiggled, "Let me go!"

Security swarmed the woman and I watched her get guided out. She had enough time to flash me the finger before she departed. Finally, I was let go.

"Are you kidding me?" Patrick snapped, "What the hell was that?"

"She pushed me!" I defended myself, "Then she poured a fucking drink on me, she deserved it."

"No," Patrick said sternly, "You could've gotten security and had her kicked out! You cannot just hit people, Leah! You know how many people probably recorded that?"

I rolled my eyes, but he didn't rant further. Jonathan appeared next to us, laughing.

"That was awesome!"

"Shut up, Tazer," Patrick groaned.

"Tough bitch!" he laughed, nudging me.

I wasn't in the mood for him anymore, or this bar, or this night. I wanted to go home and see my son, forget that I was ever here.

"Guys, stop being so serious! She's gone! Let's have fun!"

"I think the night's over for us," Patrick said, and I was quick to agree, "We're going back to the hotel."

Jonathan groaned, "You guys get one free weekend and you're calling it a night at one AM? I didn't realize you were fifty."

"We're not," I said, "Just tired."

"No," he shook his head, "You're pathetic. You got married way to young and popped out a kid too soon too. Now, you're acting like you're too high and mighty to be around a bunch of people your age."

"Pardon me?" I snapped.

Patrick lifted his hand to shut up me, "No Jonny, we're just tired. We'll come out tomorrow and stay late, okay? Her hair and dress are ruined and she's going to be uncomfortable sitting in that all night, that's all."

"Fuck this," Jonathan shook his head.

"Last time I checked, you're halfway to where we are anyway," I snapped.

He blinked. Stunned. Suddenly I wanted to rewind and shut my mouth. The pain in his eyes broke my heart, the reminder that his life was going down the tubes.
"Babe…" Pat sighed.

"I wouldn't talk," Jonathan stared me dead in the eye.

"What is that supposed to mean?" I asked.

"Guys, stop," Patrick held out his hand, more than aware that people were looking and listening.

"Oh I don't know," Jonathan shrugged, "You were fucking Pat while you were with Brent and then he didn't want you, so you just ran back to your back up plan. I don't know how Patrick lives with a self centred, cheating bitch like you. If Levi wasn't here, you'd be running back home, with no money and no self respect."

Patrick stepped in between us just as the words punched me in the face like a fist. Gently, he shoved Jonathan back and Brent pulled him aside. Without two more words to him, he came back to me and lead me out of the bar without saying anything. I followed, tears burning my eyes. I refused to cry.

The cab ride was quiet, but my sniffles finally flooded through the car. Patrick just grabbed my hand and held it as he stared out the window.

Back up plan.

Self centred.

Cheater.

Bitch.

No money and no self respect.

Ouch.

My phone buzzed wildly beside me. I opened it up to see one message from my best friend.

<b>Jonnny:</b>
<i> That's it for us. If you didn't have Levi i'd be happy never seeing your fucking face again. Thanks for telling the team that I'm either engaged or knocked a girl up- you'd be surprised to know that they guessed right. Fuck you. I meant what i said. </i>

I shut my eyes and let out a small sob, and then I wrote back.

<b> Reply: Jonny </b>
<i> I didn't mean a word of what I said. I love you. I'm sorry. </i>

As my phone buzzed one last time, I expected to see the words on the screen. I saw it coming, so the blow wasn't so bad.

<b>Jonny:</b>
<i> I hope your son doesn't turn out like you. Don't bother replying, I won't answer. </i>