Author's Note: In this story, Monica and Barbara (John's ex-wife) don't know each other. It's my story – I'll do what I want with itJ
Time
Somewhere in Washington, D.C.
Monica Reyes' sedan pulled to a stop in front of a small split-level house. She turned the ignition off, unfastened her seat belt, and stepped from her car into the brisk night air. Gazing up, she smiled at a light on the second floor. He was home.
She jogged up the stairs leading to his front door, paused long enough to fix her hair and straighten her skirt, then knocked lightly on the door.
She heard a fumbling of locks, then the door was swung open. A leggy blonde with a serious face stood there frowning at Monica.
"Uh, uh, I'm sorry. I'll come back later," Monica stammered. She stumbled as she turned, and walked quickly from the building. The blonde shrugged with a bored look on her face and shut the door again.
"Who was that?" John Doggett emerged from the bathroom, drying his sandy hair with a towel.
"I don't know. Some woman. She said she'd come back later."
John rushed to the window in time to see Monica jumping into her car and squealing onto the street.
"Dammit, that was Monica!" he yelled, slamming his hand on the window.
"Well, sorry if I got in your way. It's not like I would be involved with you again," the blonde responded.
"She doesn't know that you're my ex," John stated, grabbing his coat. "Damn you. I've got to catch her." He ran out the door before his ex-wife could ask her question.
Meanwhile, Monica was trying to come to terms with what she just saw. "I can't believe I was so stupid," she sobbed to herself. "Now I know why he's so reluctant to do anything after work."
She continued to beat herself up, so much so that she never saw the train.