Now it was Grace's turn to end up in a bar. Truth be told, she'd never been in one by herself. Barely with other people. Why she had wandered here was beyond her, aside from the fact that she needed nothing more than a large drink. One drink turned into two, and two turned into four. The bartender seemed concerned by her state, so he watered down her drinks immensely. She didn't notice and kept ordering. What was her hurry? She wondered. She didn't know where she was going to sleep tonight. One thing was certain. She wouldn't be sleeping at home.
A man had been watching her all night. He wasn't much older than her. He'd had a couple of drinks himself. She looked familiar, but in his fog, he couldn't pinpoint where he might have seen her. The nagging curiosity eventually gave him the courage to approach her. He started with a casual 'hello', and then asked if she wanted to move away from the bar and join him at his table. Against her better judgment, she agreed.
Grace was so intoxicated she wasn't aware of what she was saying to this man. Unfortunately, she was telling him all he needed to know about her vulnerable state of mind. She poured out her soul as he bought her two more drinks. She told him about her troubles with her husband and about their latest fight. The man listened, which Grace decided was a Godsend. She couldn't vent like this to anyone at home. Oliver was the sole subject of her venting. It wasn't appropriate to discuss these matters with Annie and she had to be careful with what she said to the staff. Friends outside the house were scarce. The wives of Oliver's peers wanted little to do with her given her past social standing. Even after five years of marriage, they couldn't accept the fact that she was no longer Oliver's secretary. Well, at least not primarily. She still worked for him, of course. It was the best way to spend time with him, and she did enjoy working. Being married gave her flexibility though, so she wasn't tied to him as she had been on his payroll.
By last call and closing, Grace was barely able to walk. While she hadn't drunk any hard liquor, the amount of wine she consumed had no choice but to go to her head. Unsure of where she was sleeping that night, she let the stranger, whose name she learned was Victor, recommend a hotel.
Victor was a few years older than Grace, but quite a few years younger than Oliver. He had thin dark hair that covered his entire head. He dressed smartly and had a certain charm about him that made Grace feel safe in his presence. When he asked her if she wanted to stay with him at his apartment, she couldn't help but say no.
Had she been of sound mind, she would have realized the incredible risk she was taking. She would have realized that Victor wasn't offering a couch for her to sleep on, but rather to share his bed. Had she been of sound mind, she would have left the minute she realized what he meant. Had she been of sound mind, she wouldn't have taken him up on any further suggestions...
Lying awake the next morning, she tried to process all she had done. Cheating on Oliver was never her intention when she left the house. She was angry at him, and he had been quite nasty… but did he deserve this? Should anyone find out, he'd be a mockery. At the same time, she had to admit it was nice to have a passionate encounter with someone that wasn't prefaced with an altercation. It didn't have the same intimacy as she had in the past with Oliver. It was different. It didn't feel like a routine. It was spontaneous and caring... a care she deeply missed from Oliver. Gone were those days. Would they ever return? She didn't know. If he were to find out about Victor, she needn't worry about sharing a bed with him again. This thought made her shudder. Despite how terrible things were between them, she still loved Oliver. She was angry. What happened with Victor wasn't genuine... was it? No, it couldn't have been. His concern for her was attractive, but in a sober light, she knew drunken care wasn't enough. She knew it was time to go home and try her hardest to forget the affair.
After parting ways with Victor, apologizing and explaining a thousand times over for her actions, she went home to Oliver. Maybe today he would want to work things out. Given what she had done, this would be the day he had a change of heart, causing her guilt to become unbearable.
When she got home, however, she saw Oliver had no interest. She found him in his office and he flat out ignored her. She tried to talk to him, but he didn't care for anything she had to say. Her guilt dimmed with this. She had been gone all night. Shouldn't he be more concerned? Not that she wanted an interrogation. She was nervous that she would blurt out what happened to him. With his temper, there was no predicting what his reaction might be.
A week went on. Oliver and Grace barely uttered a word to each other. Work for Grace had become strictly typing and taking phone calls, only speaking to Oliver when absolutely necessary. At night they would exchange awkward and sometimes angry glances before falling asleep. Grace's mind kept wandering to Victor. She hadn't any intentions contacting him again, but by the way Oliver was ignoring her, she was tempted. Even if it was for a simple conversation. The quiet was overbearing.
"We can't go on like this," she finally said one night as they lied awake in bed.
Nothing was said in response.
"I mean it, Oliver. This is the last time I'm going to try and talk to you about this. Make your choice. I could have easily not come home last week but I did. Quite frankly, I wish I hadn't."
"You don't mean a word of this," he said, uninterested.
"You think so?" Standing up, she went for the closet and reached for a small luggage bag. Walking back over to the bed, she set it down and then returned to the closet and pulled out whatever pieces of clothing that met her grasp first.
Oliver sat up and watched for a minute. He then said, "This is-"
"'Just one of my dramatic displays'." She finished.
"Since we're both in agreement, put the bag away and come back to bed."
Looking up at him for the first time since she had left his side, she looked him straight in the eye. Without any emotion, in a strong voice, she said, "No."
"Come on, Grace, cave already. This has gone on long enough."
"It has," she said as she hung the sloppily crammed bag over her shoulder. "That's why I'm leaving. I'm not coming back this time. If you want to talk to me, come and find me. If I come by it's only to see Annie."
Taking charge now and sitting over the edge of the bed with his feet on the floor, Oliver warned, "If you leave, you're not to see Annie."
"You can't stop me. You may have been the first to adopt her, but my name is also on the certificate. She's just as much my daughter as she is yours. Believe me, I'd be taking her if I thought for a moment it was fair to her."
"I would have you arrested."
"Oh yes," she said sarcastically. "Police. Your answer to everything. Look, I don't know what your problem is anymore. I'm willing to admit my own faults, but nothing is going to be worked out unless we work together. I don't want to leave, but before I completely explode I must."
Oliver laughed. "I've seen you explode, it's nothing."
Already feeling her anger brewing inside her, Grace replied, "You think you have but you haven't. Trust me, you haven't."
"I think this is all another bluff."
"Do you really want to try me?"
"Why not? You're picking a fight anyway."
Grace was about to go off, but then she realized that would do nothing but give Oliver vindication. This was no time to give him what he wanted. Instead, she threw her bag clear across the room, walked over to the bed, grabbed her pillow, and moved to the window seat. It wasn't the most comfortable sleeping location, but it would do. As much as she wanted to leave, at least to another room, she decided to stay put. Seeing her leave would only boost Oliver's ego.
"I knew you didn't have it in you," he mocked.
Only giving him a glance, Grace lightly shook her head as she reclined against her pillow. Several seconds passed, and Oliver was laying down again himself. Grace's mind was racing. This game needed to end one way or another, but her energy was drained for the night. So much more needed to be said to him, but she decided to keep her mouth shut. However, one phrase managed to slip through her lips...
"I hate you."
"What did you say?" Oliver asked, stirring up in a flash.
Looking over to him with a long expression, she shook her head again. "You heard me."
"Say it again."
She looked at him with cold eyes. "I hate you."
"Then I don't know what you're still doing here."
"I tried to leave."
"Your bag is right over there. I'm not stopping you." His tone was empty and bitter. How could she say such things? So they were fighting... was this really called for? Had she said it in an angry way, he would have brushed it off, but her tone couldn't be more serious.
"Believe me, if I trusted you to allow me to see our daughter I would have been gone long before this conversation."
"You're serious, aren't you?"
"I've been serious this entire time. You're so quick to call me dramatic. Well, Mr. Warbucks, the truth is out. Your complete lack of concern about the state of our marriage and about me as a person has driven me to feel sick when I'm around you. I feel unsettled and unsure of what the next moment contains. I knew when we were married that there was going to be some baggage. I worked for you for ten years, after all, I knew your mannerisms. But I never expected you to be vindictive. You seem to enjoy fighting with me now. Every single time I try talking things out with you, you start your infinite games. I have had it." Normally, these sorts of statements would have caused every negative emotion inside her to spill out in sobs. However, her voice remained calm and, like Oliver, empty.
"I refuse to have all the blame put on me."
"I'm not putting all the blame on you. I'm willing to own up to my own faults. It's a two-way street. I'm beyond groveling. You need to meet me halfway."
"Are you saying we're getting a divorce?"
"What is the matter with you!?" she ended up yelling. "I ask you to meet me halfway and you jump to divorce. In what world is that a productive halfway point?"
"What's the matter? I figured since you hate me so much, you'd be relieved to hear this solution."
"Divorce is not a solution, it is surrendering. You cannot tell me that I haven't tried. You know, for a hard worker, you surely don't want to do any work in regard to our relationship."
"Relationships don't need work, relationships are what you look forward to after working."
"Please say you're telling a terrible joke."
"I'm not. I never would have gotten married had I thought this was going to happen. This is everything I wanted to avoid."
"Are you saying you regret marrying me?"
"Yes, I am."
Their back and forth had been going at a rapid pace, but with Oliver's last comment, the entire room went dead silent. The two were locked in a serious stare. Still, little emotion was shown, though Grace's eyes slowly began to shine with tears. She was ready to grab the bag she had thrown not ten minutes before and leave for good, but a sudden and shrill cry came from down the hall. Loathsome words and bitter emotions forgotten, Grace and Oliver switched to parent mode in an instant and rushed to their daughter's bedroom.
"Annie! What's the matter?" Grace panicked.
Annie was sitting up in bed with tears running down her cheeks. "I don't feel good."
"What's the matter?" Oliver asked.
"My stomach," she pointed as she continued to wail. "It hurts, Daddy, it really does!"
Sitting down beside Annie, Grace held her close and tried to soothe her. "Did you eat something bad?"
"I don't know."
"She ate the same as us, I think," Oliver said. "Unless you had some dessert?"
Annie shook her head. "No, I didn't."
Pulling away from Annie, Grace felt her forehead for a fever. She was warm, but nothing alarming. She was warm from being so worked up. "Do you think you'll make it through the night without a doctor? First thing tomorrow we'll have him come and check on you."
"No, Mom, it hurts!"
"If you need to see a doctor tonight, you'll have to go to the hospital."
"I don't care," she said. "It hurts."
Oliver looked at Grace to see if she had any objections. When he saw the terror she was trying to keep, he nodded. Though Annie was a teenager now, she was still small. Oliver picked her up and the three of them rushed downstairs to the car.