Stitches_A Ménage Romance [MFM]

by Sam Mariano

  I crack a tired smile, then drag my ass out of bed so I can get dressed.

  As it happens, I have an incredible recipe for ginger cookies that may be as good as sex. Not sex with Sebastian, but probably sex with stupid Ashley. What a jerk. Griff is such a wonderful, attractive man; I honestly can’t believe she would do this to him.

  I bake them some fresh cookies while I prepare their breakfast. I go for a classic mix—some fruit for starters, scrambled eggs and sausage to go with it, and a slice of toast with a thin layer of grape jelly.

  I also make them coffee and get out the orange juice, just in case.

  Griff comes in behind Sebastian, but he is not as ready for the day. He did pull his dress shirt back on, but the brightness of the kitchen lights make him squint so I go over and turn them off. I light a candle on the table instead.

  “Thanks,” Griff mutters.

  “Of course,” I say, brightly. “How did you sleep?”

  “Like shit,” he answers, appearing confused that I already made him a plate and put it on the table for him. Nonetheless, he drops into the chair and stares at it for another moment.

  “How do you take your coffee?” I ask him, pouring a cup for him and stopping with enough room for cream and sugar.

  “Black,” he answers.

  I nod and top it off, then carry it over and slide it up next to his plate, flashing him a smile. “Want some orange juice, too?”

  “No, thanks.” He frowns at me, like I’m some sort of oddity. “Man, your house is full-service, isn’t it?”

  I smile faintly. “I waited tables for years; can’t break the habit.”

  Never had a reason to. Sebastian has a traditional streak. He enjoys having me wait on him, and I take pleasure in doing it; it all works out.

  I pour Sebastian some coffee—he takes it black, too—and take it over. It’s only natural for me to bend down and give him a kiss afterward, but as I straighten, rest my hands on his shoulders and give them a gentle squeeze, I can’t help noticing Griff watching, his gaze narrowed, almost like he’s annoyed by it. His words from last night come back, but they bring dread with them.

  Griff and Sebastian aren’t merely friends—they’re family. When I met them Sebastian told me that, how Griff is really the only family he has. My husband is an orphan, and Griff was half an orphan. He had a mom out there somewhere, but he ended up in foster care alongside Sebastian, and that’s how they met. They didn’t stay in the same house for the duration, but they did stay in the same school system until Sebastian aged out of the system. He’s older by a year, so Griff ditched his foster family and went to stay with Sebastian until he aged out, too.

  For half their lives, they’ve been inseparable. Their loyalty to one another is the only thing in the world they never question. I hate to think Griff is going to drift again because of me. I can’t be the thing that comes between them.

  I don’t even know how I could be. You wouldn’t know it by his drunken behavior last night, but Griff has never had feelings like that for me. It has to be because of everything that’s going on with Ashley. It has him off-kilter and lonely. He knows how happy I make Sebastian, and he feels like it’s me, like I’m the harbinger of happiness. I’m not, though. Sebastian and I are just really lucky to have found one another. We’re cut from complementary panels, like fabric cut haphazardly that somehow, sewn together, creates something perfect.

  I’m not perfect and he’s not, either; it’s just that our flaws fit together seamlessly and give off the impression of perfection.

  Griff doesn’t have that, though. I’ve never felt like he and Ashley had that kind of connection, and now that I know she’s been sleeping around behind his back, I’m quite sure of it. I would never do that to Sebastian, not for anything in the world. If I ever felt unhappy, I would talk to Sebastian about it and we would fix it.

  It’s incredible to have that, and I’m so sad Griff doesn’t.

  I think about him implying he felt left out last night, so as I walk past, I try to throw him a bone, letting my hand drift across his shoulders and giving him a one-handed gentle squeeze.

  Then I feel ridiculous for thinking “throw him a bone,” like Griff is someone who needs pity attention. Not by a long shot. He may be in pain right now from Ashley’s bullshit, but Griff is impressive in his own right. Sebastian and Griff are both incredible specimens—not just physically, but their unrelenting drive. These two men know what they want, and they’ll do whatever it takes to get it.

  They began their journey in life as castoffs with nothing. They sacrificed and saved and worked their asses off—five jobs between them, at one point—living in squalor so they could make something of themselves. They purchased their first business at the tender ages of 22 and 23. They continued to work their asses off, and now they both have so much. Half a dozen businesses, beautiful homes, loving wives….

  Well, no, I guess Griff doesn’t have that anymore.

  Dammit, Ashley.

  He can do so much better, though. If she doesn’t appreciate what she has in Griff, she doesn’t deserve him. It kills me that he’s in so much pain now—even if he won’t properly show it, I know he is. Last night wouldn’t have happened otherwise. Last time Griff called me drunk to come pick him up in the middle of the night was right before he met Ashley. He had stopped hanging out with us, then one night he called me out of the blue. He told me he was walking around and couldn’t find his house. I told him to stay put and I went to find him so I could get him home safely.

  Now he’s a grown ass man. Sebastian is 8 years older than me, so Griff is 7—that makes him 31. He should be settling down, not going through his first divorce.

  I wanna give Griff a hug, but given last night, I decide not to. I felt like I should mention it to Sebastian this morning, but I also didn’t know what to say. Nothing untoward actually happened. He joked that if I took off his pants he might get an erection, but that wasn’t a big deal. Sure, he pulled my body close in bed, but he’s lonely and hurting; he probably just needed some affection. I’m sure in his vulnerability last night, he probably said things he didn’t mean.

  “So, what should I make you gentlemen for dinner tonight?” I ask casually, grabbing my own plate and taking my seat at the table.

  Griff raises a dark golden brow at me. “Us gentlemen? I don’t live here.”

  “You don’t remember last night?” I ask.

  His blue eyes dull a little and his gaze drops to the table.

  I guess that answers that.

  I skip that part, though, and say, “I invited you to stay tonight. You owe me a Hepburn double feature. I’ll make dinner and we’ll stay in and be lazy asses.”

  Griff shakes his head. “Gonna have to pass.”

  “Why?” Sebastian asks.

  Griff glances over at him, but he seems a little uneasy, and I hate it. “Got shit to do.”

  “What kind of shit? Packing up Ashley’s clothes and tossing it on the lawn shit?”

  Griff just rolls his eyes.

  “If that’s what you have to do, I’m happy to help,” Sebastian volunteers. “We’ll get it done fast, then we can come spend the rest of the night with Moira and Audrey.”

  Shaking his head, he spears a forkful of scrambled eggs. “You’re relentless,” he states, before taking a bite.

  “You are leaving her, right?” Sebastian pushes, watching his best friend.

  “Stop,” Griff says, cutting Sebastian an unfriendly look as he reaches for his coffee. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

  “Then tell me you’re calling a divorce lawyer this afternoon and I’ll gladly drop it,” Sebastian states. “Otherwise, I’m going to keep talking about it.”

  “Then I’m going to leave,” Griff states.

  Sebastian feigns a grimace. “Your car’s at Callahan’s.”

  “I’ll walk,” Griff shoots back. “I’m not going to sit here and discuss this shit with you, Seb. It’s my life, not yours.”

/>   “She makes you miserable. She cheats on you. You put up a good fight, Griff, but there’s nothing left to fight for.”

  Pointedly ignoring my husband, Griff eats his food in silence.

  I’m not nearly as pushy as Sebastian, but I’m uncomfortable with the fact that it does seem like Griff isn’t planning to leave Ashley. If I thought it was because he loved her too much or they had more good times than bad, that would make sense. It breaks my heart right in half even imagining it, but if Sebastian cheated on me, I don’t know how I could leave him. I’d want to, I’d be completely miserable, but we’ve had all these happy years and I’m sure we have more ahead of us.

  It doesn’t seem like the same can be said for Griff and Ashley. They had a good year, followed by a couple of tepid years, and then a couple of shitty years. What’s the point? Marriage means something to me, but my relationship is wonderful. Griff seems to have married the wrong woman, and I hate that he’s settling for unhappiness.

  He forgot his phone in the bedroom, so while I won’t ask in front of Sebastian, who has already been quite vocal in his opinion of what Griff needs to do next, I follow my friend down the hall to retrieve his phone.

  Checking behind me to make sure Sebastian isn’t in hearing range, I step inside. Griff pauses when he turns back and finds me standing in the doorway.

  “Why are you staying with her?” I ask him.

  He doesn’t get as annoyed when I press him about this as Sebastian, but he’s not quick to answer, either.

  “Is it because you love her too much to let go? Because your life feels empty when you think of it without her? Is it because you know you’ll get past this and have many beautiful years together? Or is it because you don’t want to be alone? Because if it’s the last one, I think you’re making a huge mistake. I don’t think Ashley deserves you. I think you deserve a woman who looks at you and sees you. Who values you. Who knows your worth. You deserve much better than ‘not as lonely,’ Griff. You deserve to be loved, and I don’t think Ashley loves you.”

  A sad smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “No one does, Moira.”

  “That is not true,” I tell him, firmly. “We do. We love you. And someone else will, too. Someone who deserves you—not someone who uses you and treats you like shit.”

  “Stop with the ‘we’ shit, please,” he says, brushing past me on his way out of the bedroom.

  I grab his shoulder. I shouldn’t—I should let him go, but I feel like I’d be letting him go to make the biggest mistake of his life. My stomach twists, because the alternative might be making the biggest mistake of mine.

  I mean this, but not the way he might take it.

  “I do,” I tell him, halting his descent. “I love you. And I want more for you than you can have with her.”

  He stands there for a moment like I stole his ability to walk. He finally looks at me over his shoulder—no, glares. “That’s fucking mean.”

  My heart sinks clear down to my stomach. “I’m not trying to be mean.”

  He laughs a little before walking away, but there’s no humor in it. “Yeah, you never are.”

  6

  Sebastian

  It’s been three weeks since Griff has come around on a social visit.

  It’s impossible for him to avoid me altogether at work, but he has rearranged his schedule so we see less and less of each other.

  Today he has asked for a meeting.

  I can already sense the distance in him when he walks into my office. I can see it in the way he doesn’t look at me as he takes a seat. He’s not here for anything pleasant. He’s not here to tell me he’ll finally take Moira up on one of the ten invitation texts she has sent him in the past three weeks, all but begging him to come over for dinner.

  “How are things?” I ask him, since I’m not up-to-date on his life.

  “Fucking fantastic,” he answers, dryly.

  This whole situation is fucking garbage. I can’t help thinking he blames me for the fallout—like if I’d just kept my mouth shut, or if I hadn’t reviewed that particular piece of footage, everything would be fine.

  But how many other nights might there have been? How many nights had Ashley done the same damn thing, and she just lucked out that no one checked the tapes?

  Whatever is going on between them, Ashley no longer works at the club. Griff handled all the termination paperwork himself—citing the incident in the hallway as the reason we let her go. Given they share a last name, it’s awkward, but having sex on our property definitely crossed lines; we have every right to fire her, whether or not they’re married.

  Thankfully, he was smart enough to get a prenup, but I don’t even know whether or not he’s divorcing the lying little slut.

  “How’s Ashley?” I ask, since it’s as subtle as I can be.

  He cuts me a look to let me know he’s not amused and, for whatever reason, I no longer have the right to ask about that.

  I feel it in my gut. Griff’s the only person—outside of Moira, of course—I can’t stomach losing, and right now, our friendship feels more tenuous than it ever has.

  I’m losing him.

  I don’t know why, but I know I am.

  “Come to dinner tonight,” I say, when he doesn’t answer.

  “No,” he snaps.

  “We don’t have to stay in. We’ll all go out. Dinner, drinks—whatever you want.”

  Shaking his head, Griff ducks his head and stares down at the ground. “Just let me get this out, would you?”

  I lean back in my chair, nodding for him to go ahead.

  “I want you to buy out my half of the club. I don’t want this partnership anymore. I’ll give you a better than fair price, I really just… I just want out. I don’t care about the money. All the money we’ve made may have worked magic for you, but it’s done nothing but make me fucking miserable. Attracted a fucking gold digger that I couldn’t see through, bought a big, beautiful prison that I can’t stand to spend the night in… I’m more alone than I’ve ever been in my life, Seb, and I want out.”

  I feel like he just kicked me between the fucking legs. “You want out? Of our partnership? Of our friendship?”

  “I can’t do this anymore, Seb. I can’t. I don’t want to. I’m at a point in my life where I have a choice; I can choose to be unhappy or I can try something new and maybe get a different result.”

  I scowl, sitting forward and irritably shoving papers across my desk. “No. Fuck that. You’re making an emotional decision because Ashley fucked you over. This is not… no. You can’t just quit on me.”

  “Yes, I fucking can,” he states, causing my stomach to sink.

  “So, you’re just like everybody else now, huh?” I demand, gesturing toward the door. “Every other fucking person who just leaves. Does our friendship mean this little to you? Do I mean this little to you?”

  He places a hand on either side of his head, as if that’s the only way he can keep it from exploding. Like I’m so fucking infuriating that he can’t even wrap his head around it. “This isn’t about you. I can’t make every decision in my life to fit you, Sebastian. You have everything. I have nothing. You’ve got the perfect fucking life—you are not alone anymore. You have a person who will never abandon you. You have Moira. What do I have?”

  “You have me. You have both of us,” I state, feeling walls erecting around my heart. There have never been walls between me and Griff. He’s the one person in the world I knew had my back, the one person in the world I didn’t hesitate to trust.

  Now he wants to fucking walk away.

  I guess I was wrong. Over half my fucking life, and I was wrong.

  I want to know why. I want to rage at him and demand he explain to me why our friendship went from the most important thing in his life to something so meaningless, he’ll toss it out and move on like it never happened. Like we haven’t been partners, building our lives together for more than half our lives.

  But there’s no answer that could
make me understand. In his place, there’s nothing that would have made me walk away from him.

  Nodding my head, I clip, “Fine. If that’s what you want.”

  He sighs, the weight on his shoulders appearing heavier instead of lighter. “I have to talk to my lawyer this afternoon. I’ll schedule an appointment with the accountant afterward. I’ll let you know when I have a fair price for you.”

  I nod mechanically, but I couldn’t give a fuck less about the price. I don’t want his half of the business; I want him to stop this shit and stay on.

  Instead of taking any of it back, he stands. He heads for the door, pausing just before opening it to leave.

  “I’m sorry,” he says, quietly.

  “Of all people, you should know how worthless those words are,” I tell him, coldly.

  He nods slowly. “You’re right. I do.”

  So, without another word, he leaves my office and begins the official steps of dissolving our friendship.

  Moira snuggles up beside me on the couch, absently running her hand up and down my arm. All night she’s been trying to settle me down, but she doesn’t know what’s wrong. I haven’t been able to bring myself to tell her.

  I keep feeling like if I don’t tell anyone, then it won’t happen.

  That’s never worked before, so I’m not sure why it would now. When I was a child, standing at the double funeral of both my parents, it didn’t make me feel any better that I didn’t cry.

  When I was first dumped into the home of strangers with four other children, not showing that I was scared didn’t make me feel any braver.

  As I was dumped from house to house, forever without a family or a home to call my own, I could feel myself growing cold and hard, could feel my world getting smaller and smaller until I was the only one left. There may have been a whole world out there, a whole house full of people I lived with, but my personal microcosm shrunk and shrunk until there was only room for me.

  If there was only room for me, it felt better. It wasn’t that no one else wanted to be a part of my world; it was that there was no room for them, anyway. It was my choice.