The Problem with Fire - M.E. Clayton Page 0,13

his head towards the inside of my house. “Can we talk inside?”

What?

Was the man nuts?

This was my house. This place was my sanctuary. This place was my Thomas-free humble abode. This was my home.

Hell to the no, he couldn’t come in.

“No,” I told him. “There’s no reason for you to need to come in.”

He planted his hands on his hips. “We need to talk, Monroe.”

“About what?”

“Leta,” he replied, causing my stomach to dip.

“What about her? Is she okay? Where is-”

“Calm down, Monroe,” he said, his voice a bit snappish. “Leta’s fine. She’s with her friend, Elise.”

I took a deep breath, thankful my child was okay. “Then what is this, Thomas?”

“I’m here to talk about Leta’s attitude,” he said. “I’m getting tired of her bullshit, Monroe.”

I stood there and stared.

Shocked.

Annoyed.

But more shocked than annoyed.

“I’m not following,” I finally told him. “She’s fine when she’s with me.” I knew what this was about, but I wasn’t about to let him dump his issues with his daughter in my lap to fix.

“Last night, Susie told me she thought it would be best if we stopped seeing each other because she couldn’t stand for Leta’s disrespect any longer.” He lifted his chin as if I were supposed to care about this latest development.

Newsflash: I didn’t.

“You’re here because your latest girlfriend broke up with you and it’s Leta’s fault?” I asked, still skating on the surface of shocked. “Are you serious?”

His jaw ticked and I knew I had just pissed him off more. “This isn’t a joke, Monroe,” he snapped louder than I would have appreciated. “Her attitude is out of control.”

I cocked my head. “Her attitude towards you is out of control, Thomas,” I corrected. “When she’s here or at school, she’s fine.” He bristled, but who cared? I certainly didn’t. “So, since she only appears to have problem when she’s with you, I’d say that your issues with Leta are between you and her. Your relationship with your daughter is for you to work on. Not me.”

“Oh, yeah?” he practically yelled. “And how am I supposed to do that when you keep her stuck in the fucking past, Monroe?”

My eyes bugged. “What?” I damn near screeched. “What in the hell are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about how you refuse to move on!” He did yell this time. “You’re so stuck in the past, still living in a marriage that is long over, and you have Leta living there with you.”

What?!

This mother-

“If you would just go out and start getting laid, instead of still being hung up on me, maybe Leta wouldn’t resent me so much for dating other women,” he ranted, making me want to stab him in the face. “But because you insist on playing the pathetic martyr, Leta feels sorry for you and is punishing me for it.”

He took a step closer to me. “It needs to fucking stop.”

I was not going to let Thomas intimidate me. And, yeah, this conversation should probably not be had on my front porch but fuck him.

Fuck. Him.

I stepped up, forcing him to have to take a couple of steps back. “Look, I don’t know where you got the idea that I’m still pining over you, but let me assure you, Thomas, I am not,” I snapped. “I haven’t cried over you since well before the divorce papers had even been signed. I am not living in the past. And I sure as hell am not living there over you.”

“Yeah? Then when was the last time you went on a date?” he challenged.

“You righteous bastard,” I spewed. Yeah, calling him names was probably not the way to go, but how dare he. Seriously? How. Fucking. Dare. He. “I spent that first year, after our divorce, getting my life in order with a new job, new finances, a new home, and helping Leta cope. The second year, after our divorce, I spent that concentrating on my career and still helping Leta cope with her new normal.” I could seriously feel my blood pressure spiking. “And as for this past year, I’ve been spending it being happy, you jackass. Getting laid on the regular might be what defines your new life, but mine is centered more around my daughter, my job, my friends, and what makes me happy.”

“Well, obviously that’s not good enough since Leta is still unhappy,” he fired back.

“Leta’s unhappy with you, Thomas. You,” I corrected. “You broke up her family, and contrary to your earlier beliefs, she’s not getting over it like you had