Control
Once again a massive thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read this :) Apologies for the time this has taken to upload, it's been sitting on my laptop for over a week just needing proofread, sorry!
Chapter 7
They drove silently to Sam's flat, neither knowing what to say to each other, so instead they continued at what they have always both been good at, ignoring their problems and each other.
Sam sat staring out of the front window whilst playing with a loose thread on her sleeve whilst Dylan drove as cautiously as ever.
"What time are your parents arriving at?" He glanced towards her to see that she hadn't even bothered to acknowledge what he had said "Sam, don't ignore me"
"I have no idea, Molly didn't say" Once again her words were lifeless, she was becoming a hollow shell again.
"Well how long are they staying?"
"I have no idea, Molly didn't say" She repeated, her eyes not moving from the road in front of them.
"Well what did she say?" He was beginning to lose patience with her when he knew that she was just being awkward "Sam, I at least need to know how long we are going to have to play the happily married couple" This time he got a reaction out of her but it wasn't what he really wanted to hear
"Yeah because we were always so happy!" She was acting out to try and push him away but he wasn't going to leave her this time despite the venom in her voice he knew that she didn't mean what she was saying.
"This really isn't the time for this, call your mum and find out when they are going to get here."
"It never is Dylan!" She pulled out her phone and tried to call her mum but it went straight to voicemail.
They spent the rest of the journey in silence again after Sam's mum hadn't answered her phone, a few miles from Sam's flat it dawned on her that she hadn't told Dylan her address yet he seemed to know exactly where he was going so she chose to break the unbearable silence.
"How do you know where I live?"
"What?" He panicked, she was going to know that he had walked past where she lived, that he had been checking up on her
"How do you know where I live? It's not a difficult question Dylan" She didn't really care that he knew but she was curious as to why he knew.
"Yes, well, I did not say that it was a difficult question and I don't believe it's unreasonable for a husband to know where his wife stays" He couldn't hide the tone of his voice, he sounded like a kid who had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
"Technical wife Dylan, remember. Your words." Her voice was back to being cold and lifeless again, as if she didn't have the energy to fight anymore, she had given up.
He parked up beside her Mercedes, being careful not to park too close knowing how protective Sam was of her car, before allowing his head to drop to his hands for a moment.
"How did we end up like this Samantha?" He sighed before opening is car door and getting out and not acknowledging her until she unlocked the door to her small flat.
Dylan found himself looking around at the place his wife now called home; it was not unlike his boat although perhaps, believe it or not, more chaotic that his residence. There was unopened mail piled up on the table by the door, coffee mugs on practically every surface and medical journals and books all over the place. He would be surprised if she had any crockery left.
When they were living together, they had somehow managed to retain a semi-tidy home mainly for the purpose of when Sam's family had insisted on visiting regularly and Dylan had been determined to show that they were both adults capable of making decisions for themselves thus still living like messy students really wasn't going to cut it. However since the separation, he knew himself that he was slipping back into old habits of leaving stuff lying around or not hovering the boat for a week or so but that was nothing compared to the state of Sam's place.
As he found himself looking around more, he noticed that the kitchen was moderately tidy which suggested to him that it was definitely underused and that her bedroom also remained in a reasonable state, aside from some clothes lying around and an unmade bed. The room which had been the most shocking to him had been the second bedroom where he had discovered a mass of unpacked boxes, with a few which were open so he could see that they contained items which had been divided between them during the separation.
There was only one thing going round his mind as he walked about: how could I let things get so bad and not notice what was going on with her?
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