Layne sat at his desk in his office and stared at his bank balance on the computer.

Six weeks ago, it was healthy. A year ago, before he bought the house, furnished it and bought his son a car, it was very healthy.

Now, after taking the gargantuan hit of paying his hospital bills, it was not.

He’d lived tight, not much to spend money on; his biggest expense was child support, which Gabby, on a strict schedule of every three years, went to her attorneys to jack up. He never fought her; he just gave her the money. She was a bitch but she loved her kids and she worked hard as the manager of the checkout clerks at the grocery store. She wasn’t rolling in it and she wanted her sons to have a good life. So Layne did his part to help her give it to them.

He heard the warning beep, someone had tripped the sensor which meant someone was coming up. His eyes moved to the video screen on the shelf to his left and he saw Gabby walking up the steps.

Layne had offices over Mimi’s Coffee Shop in town. They consisted of his office, a reception and a small room beside the front door with a counter, a coffeepot on the counter (not that he used it, he wanted coffee, he went to Mimi’s), a sink, a microwave also on the counter and a half-fridge under it. There was a small bathroom, toilet and sink. There was also a big storage room off his office where he kept his equipment.

He watched as Gabby made it to the top and turned to the door and he realized that it wasn’t just a shit day, it was a super shit day.

He stood and was leaning against the doorjamb to his office when she walked in.

“Tanner,” she snapped when her eyes hit him and he shook his head. He hadn’t even said hello and she was snapping at him.

“Good to see you, Gabby,” he replied and her eyes narrowed at his hard to miss sarcasm.

It was not good to see her. It was never good to see her. His ex-wife was a bitch.

At first, he knew she had reason. When Rocky broke it off with him, not even a week later, he’d been out, he’d been drunk and he’d hooked up with Gabby. She had dark hair, like Rocky, but also dark brown eyes, not like Rocky. Rocky’s eyes were deep blue. Nevertheless, he’d f**ked Gabby because she reminded him of Rocky. It had been a one night stand. That was, until two and a half months later when she hunted him down and informed him she was pregnant, it was his and she was keeping the baby. She also informed him they were getting married.

He did not want to do this mainly because, when he wasn’t drunk, he didn’t like her. Also because he didn’t believe the kid was his. Everyone knew Gabrielle Weil got around.

When she had it, though, even as an infant, Layne took one look at his son and knew.

So he did right by Jasper and married Jasper’s mother.

It was the second stupidest thing he’d done in his life, outside getting hooked up with Rocky.

Gabby was far from stupid, though, she knew he was hung up on Rocky and this made their marriage unpleasant, to say the least. Layne tried, God’s honest truth, he did. She wasn’t Rocky, that was true, but he had to give it to her, he couldn’t imagine being tied to a woman who was hung up on another man, who you knew she was thinking about him when you f**ked her.

But he’d wanted to be a good Dad. He didn’t have a father, his father took off within weeks of him being born, and he didn’t want his son to grow up like that. That was the primary reason he’d married her.

But no matter how he tried to make their marriage good and worked to bury the bitterness of losing Raquel, Gabby sensed it under the surface and she made life a living hell. He was close to breaking it off with her when she fell pregnant with Tripp. They hadn’t had sex in months and she knew he was pulling away. That was why he woke up with her mouth latched to his cock, his c**k hard under her working him and he’d f**ked her. If Tripp hadn’t come out of that, he’d think it was the third stupidest thing he’d done in his life. But he couldn’t imagine life without Tripp.

He’d lasted nearly two more years before he split.

“We need to talk,” she told him, coming into the reception area.

“All right,” Layne agreed, having learned it was better to let her say what she had to say and move on than try to fight it. She wasn’t only a bitch, she could get mean and the mean could turn nasty. His day started with Rocky and would end with a dinner she’d cooked that he’d have to eat with her and his kids there. He didn’t need Gabby to turn nasty.

She stared at him a second, then looked beyond him into his office. Her face turned hard when she realized he wasn’t going to ask her to come in, take a seat, offer a cup of coffee.

“I need you to take the boys next week,” she announced.

Layne sighed.

The reason he was home was because she’d hooked up with Stew Baranski. When Tripp told him that, Layne’s blood ran cold. Stew Baranski was a total ass**le. He’d always been an ass**le. Fuck, the guy could teach classes on how to be a total and complete ass**le. He didn’t want that guy around his kids but when he’d called and shared this with Gabby she’d lost her f**king mind. Then she’d ranted about how she’d taken care of his kids for twelve years and now that she had something good in her life (that was a joke, Stew being anything good was a freaking joke), he was trying to screw it up for her. She continued to rant about how she gave everything up for her boys while he did whatever the f**k he wanted.

He had to admit, she wasn’t entirely wrong.

But it was clear she was passed bitter straight to hostile and it was also clear she wasn’t giving up Stew. She’d dated, he knew this, but she hadn’t had a long term relationship in awhile. She’d let herself go after Tripp, in a huge way, and no longer bore any resemblance to the attractive, built woman she was in her twenties. She was hanging onto Stew, a last ditch effort to end a lonely life of single parenthood.

It was either let Stew Baranski turn his sons into ass**les, or be an ass**le to them, or both, or come home.

He came home.

And since he did, he often doubled up his weeks so Stew and Gabby could do whatever Stew and Gabby did that they needed his sons clear of it. Layne didn’t want to know, he also didn’t argue. She was right. She’d borne the brunt of raising his kids. It was his turn to kick in.

“Fine,” he replied. “You need to come into the office to tell me that?”

“Nope,” she shook her head once. “Needed to come in to tell you I need five hundred dollars.”

Layne did a slow blink. “Come again?”