Brian sat with Allison on the couch, hands clasped, their heads bowed so that their foreheads rested against the other. It was like their own little bubble, where everything else in the world became separate and only the two of them existed. In here there was no pretense, no need to be strong, no need and no place to hide. And slowly, Brian heard the whole story.
Mike, Allison's husband, had been the perfect guy, exactly as Claire had seen. He was handsome, strong, intelligent, hard-working, basically everything a girl hoped for. They had moved to the farm, settled down, and looked forward to a life surrounded by chickens, crops, kids and grand-kids. It was all in sharp contrast to the dark, moody Allison that they first knew, but she'd adapted incredibly well to her new life, as if she'd been born to it.
Life itself, however, didn't exactly run smoothly. Chickens and crops were easy to get, but for some reason, the kids didn't show up. For a few years, Allison and Mike were happy with each other, but no matter what they did – or how often they tried – Allison didn't conceive. The hospital couldn't fathom a reason – all of the tests that they ran came back negative, and there didn't seem to be a cause for something which, slowly but surely, chipped away at their idyllic life.
As the cracks appeared, something changed within Mike. Allison began to see a darker, less caring side to him. He began to drink more, either at home in front of the television or in bars at the nearest town. When it reached the point when he was drunk more nights than he was sober, it only took a single, innocent comment from Allison….
Mike was distraught, never believing himself capable of hitting his wife. Yet her face showed the truth. Once the shock had passed, they sat and talked, and he finally opened up to her about how he felt, how he thought himself somehow 'damaged'. First was the knee injury which halted his promising football career in its tracks. That one moment defined a change in his entire life. After that, everything he did, everything he touched, seemed somehow to be second best, in some way inferior to the life and lifestyle he could have had.
Then he met Allison, and for a long time it looked as if perfection had once more come to him. She was beautiful, kind, caring, and loved him completely.
Despite assuring her that he was OK, he was floored when they couldn't … when SHE couldn't give him the son he craved. Despite the doctors drawing a blank, he was convinced that the problem wasn't with him.
Mike had secretly visited medical centers in other towns, and paid money they could ill afford to get more tests done, and still the results came back negative. He was fine. And in his mind, the thought grew that either Allison was the cause, or the combination of Allison and Mike wasn't the perfect biological match that stared back at him from every wedding picture, taunting him every time he looked at them.
And the drinking remained – for a while in secret, but eventually it all came out into the open. He did little or nothing around the farm, and whilst Allison did as much as she could, there wasn't enough time or strength in her to do everything alone. Finally, she came in from feeding the animals to find him packing a bag. On the table was a half-empty bottle of bourbon, and somehow she knew to stay back. He told her about the doctors, and yelled at her for being 'incapable of producing' his child. Then he dropped the biggest bombshell: he'd been seeing another woman.
Allison hadn't waited to hear any details. She had turned and ran. Down the stairs and out of the door, she ran past the barns and out to the furthest perimeter fence. Ten minutes later, she heard the truck start up, and a cloud of dust kicked up along the track to the main road. As the noise of the vehicle's engine died away, something died within her as well.
Somewhat symbolically, it began to rain as she slowly walked back to the house. He'd left the door hanging open, but on the table she'd found the scrawled note that seemed to firmly close the door on their marriage.
The 'other woman' was carrying his child…
After that, Allison had switched into automatic mode. Somehow she had kept herself going, sometimes she'd slept and ate, but she really didn't recall anything. It was like the outer shell had done the few things that needed doing for survival, whilst inside she slowly died.
And that was how Claire and Brian had found her, four days later. Had they not arrived when they did, who could say how much longer she would have sat there.
Brian knew that there was one question which needed to be asked. Otherwise, the task of looking after Allison would be that much harder, possibly even beyond their capability.
"Ally – when you were alone, before we got there – you never thought about…"
Allison flicked her tear-sodden eyes up to his face.
"Suicide?"
Brian nodded, red-faced.
"Once or twice. It was worst at night, when the silence got too intense. Things were easier during the day, when I could hear traffic, or birds. At night – it gets so quiet out there that all you can do is sit and think. And that was the toughest part of it all. I couldn't escape from my thoughts. A couple of times, I felt so bad that I'd almost believe that it would be better to feel nothing…"
Brian gently squeezed Allison's hands.
"Ally, listen to me" he whispered. "You're far too special and important for that. What happened was all his fault, not yours. All he's done is proved that you're far too good for him. You're kind, and caring, and gentle, and strong, and beautiful, and loved. I've never met your husband, but I do know that if he was capable of hurting you and leaving you, then he's a fucking idiot, because nobody with any sense would have someone like you in their life and piss it all away."
At this point, the tears started again, and the two friends held each other tightly, letting time pass and emotions release.
Claire stood by the doorway, watching in silence. She didn't know how long it would take, but it looked like the healing process had begun….