Then again, she could also have a headache.

“Bummer,” Tripp muttered and handed him a beer before he took a can of pop to his brother and cracked open his own.

“Yeah, I’ve tasted this shit,” Merry put in, lifting his hand, a slab of meat between his fingers, “Bummer. This stuff is the freaking bomb.” Then he tossed the meat into his mouth.

“Awesome, I’m starved,” Tripp replied.

“She get headaches a lot?”

That came out of Layne’s mouth before he could stop it and both Merry and Dave looked at him. For over a year, anytime the three of them were together, Rocky had been the elephant in the room. This was the first indication Layne had given that he was aware of its presence.

But she’d suffered headaches when he was with her, migraines, pain so extreme he couldn’t touch her, he couldn’t even be in the same room walking around. The barest hint of noise, light, anything, increased her agony. He hated having to leave her to battle it alone but he had no choice. Nothing worked. She tried everything. It didn’t happen often, thankfully he could count on one hand how often it happened when she was with him, but he remembered every last one.

“Not really,” Merry answered and Dave looked at Layne’s sons.

“Boys, grab bowls of whatever you see and take them to the dining room. Roc set the table. Sit your butts down when you get in there. Grub’s up, we should eat,” Dave said and the boys, unlike at home, moved quickly to do as ordered.

“How do you do that?” Layne asked jokingly when the kids left the room.

“Years of practice,” Dave answered, a smile lighting his blue eyes.

Then, completely unable to control it, Layne looked at Merry and said, “She gonna make it home?”

Merry dumped another load of lamb on a platter and looked at Layne.

“What?”

“If it’s a migraine, she’ll have trouble making it home. She used to get sick,” Layne told his friend something he already knew.

Those were the only times she let him touch her when she had a headache, when she was puking in the bathroom. He’d hold her hair back and press a cold washcloth to her neck while she did it. When she was done, she’d wait for him to rinse the cloth and she’d sit on her ass on the floor, head tilted up to him, eyes hazy with pain and she’d let him wipe her face and mouth.

Merry studied him then said, “She doesn’t have far to go.”

Dave lived about five minutes from Layne, Merry lived about two minutes from Dave, Rocky lived at least fifteen minutes from all of them. Rush hour traffic, even in the ‘burg, could get rough and it was still rush hour and would be for another half an hour. That could mean a twenty-five minute ride home, if not longer.

“Rush hour, Merry,” Layne said.

Merry’s head tipped to the side but his eyes slid to his Dad. He only answered when he was looking directly at Layne again.

“She’s stayin’ with me, big man,” he said quietly.

Oh f**k. This didn’t sound good.

“Come again?” he asked and he wondered why the f**k he did. But he did.

“Left him, Tanner,” Dave said, moving forward to grab the platter as Merry unplugged the knife. “She did it over two months ago.”

“No joke?” Layne asked, this time he knew why it came out of his mouth. He was shocked. Jarrod and Raquel Astley were pillars of that community. Rock solid.

“No joke,” Dave answered.

“And no joke that f**kwad moved his latest piece right in before Roc’s side of the bed was even cold,” Merry added, his tone low but trembling. He was pissed.

Layne felt his body freeze.

The he repeated, “Come again?”

“We’ll talk about it later,” Dave said.

“We’ll talk about it now,” Layne replied. “He’s moved another woman in?”

Merry turned away from the counter, wiping his hands on a dish towel.

“Been steerin’ clear of this, big man, but you have to have heard,” Merry said.

He hadn’t heard. Everyone he knew in that town knew he and Rocky had had a thing. No one said boo about her to him.

“Heard what?” Layne asked.

“Fucked around on her all the time,” Merry informed him. “Far’s I can tell, since about a week after they said ‘I do’. Nailed every nurse in his hospital. Every nurse’s aide. Every decent looking patient, probably.”

“You are shitting me,” Layne whispered.

He could not believe this mainly because it was unbelievable. Not once, not even once had he considered stepping out on Rocky when he was with her. He didn’t have to. She was great in bed, she loved sex, she was good at it and she wanted it often. Her appetite was so healthy, she’d nearly killed him but it was a death he didn’t mind dying. Outside of bed she was affectionate, attentive, funny and almost always in a good mood, unless she had a headache, was stressed about a test she had to take or they were fighting about something, which they did a lot, which meant they could make up a lot. She could cook. She kept a clean house. Even working as a waitress on the weekends and going to school full-time, she still took care of him in every way there was to take care of a man and she took care of their apartment, their bills, the food, their lives. Except for paying the rent and utilities, taking out the trash and helping her do the dishes every once in awhile, Layne hadn’t had to lift a finger.

Who would step out on something like that?

“She’s already filed,” Dave said and finished before walking away with the platter. “She’s through.”

Layne watched Dave disappear into the dining room then he turned to Merry.

“She okay?” he asked.

“Nope,” Merry answered. “She had no clue. Whole town’s talkin’ about it, have been for years and she’s the putz. She found out, moved out and he moved his new girl in. She’s twenty-three. Spittin’ image of Roc fifteen years ago. She’s also a cheerleader for the Pacers.” Merry got closer and his voice dipped lower. “She’s a freakin’ Pacemate, big man. That dick’s got courtside season tickets and has for the last ten years. If shackin’ up with some hottie almost half your age who dances on court at halftime isn’t in your face, nothing is. So, no, she’s not okay.”

Layne did not know much about Jarrod Astley. He knew he was from Indianapolis, Broad Ripple. He knew he was nine years older than Rocky. He knew he was Chief of Surgery at Presbyterian in Indianapolis and supposedly a hotshot since he’d been Chief of Surgery for five years which made him young when he earned the post. He’d seen the man, not often, a few times around town. He was good-looking enough, in a stick up his ass kind of way. He struck Layne as ice cold which Layne thought didn’t work with Rocky, who was anything but cold.