Okay, so maybe this time he'd messed up. Maybe he'd gone a little too far. He was only trying to do the right thing, get back into Sharon's good graces, and repay her a little of what he knew he'd drained from her over the years. That plan, that idea, though, hadn't gone as he'd liked. Yeah, he'd had good intentions, and he wished that she could see that. He wished that she could see he was trying to be a better man, trying to make up for the mistakes of the past. Trouble was, he knew it was too late. He finally saw that. He saw that he'd messed up, and she wasn't going to take him back. This last time, he really messed up big. She now knew he was drinking again; that was obvious. She knew he was gambling and a lot since he'd confessed to 'winning big' as he told her. She knew. She knew he was a mess, still after all these years, a mess. The kids weren't speaking to him now, telling him to get sober. Now, she wasn't speaking either. Ironically, in all this, the only one speaking to him was Rusty, the kid he'd turned away and didn't want. Rusty, Sharon's pride and joy these last few years, Rusty was the kid who was offering him insight and advice. Go figure. An 18-year-old was telling him just how badly he'd messed up, what he'd given up.

He thought back to what Rusty had said over breakfast. Quite frankly, he couldn't remember Rusty's exact words. His hangover was a bad one, but Rusty had said something about maybe Jack had it all and lost it; he'd had the best in Sharon and his kids, and now that was gone. It was something along those lines. Everything at the moment for Jack was a bit hazy, but Rusty was right. The kid was telling him exactly what he had refused to admit to himself. He'd had a wonderful wife, amazing kids. Had. He'd lost the wife, and the kids, well, that relationship was a rocky mess. It would never be great, and any hope of it improving was slipping away, day after day. What he'd tried to get Rusty to understand was that for once, he'd won. He'd gotten a taste of how it felt to win, to come out on top, and he loved it. He finally had won, something he'd been striving to do for years. Sharon wouldn't take that money, but he could give her some of the lawsuit money. Funny, he didn't see that she wouldn't want that either, money he'd won by helping clients sue the LAPD and city, the very entity she worked so hard for over the last 30 years-she wouldn't take that either. He'd try though; he'd be the good guy, the better guy and offer it. She was always saying how he'd taken everything, so here, he'd try to offer her a small token of that mess.

Sorry. That was the only word he could say to her, to describe how he felt. Yes, he was sorry he'd shown up drunk to her condo. He was sorry he had kept a key, when he really should have given it back. He was sorry he'd been rude to her, to Rusty. He was sorry for 30 years of neglect, abandonment, everything. He was sorry. He could tell her that. It wouldn't win her back; she was gone, but he could start with that. He could start by telling her he was going to go back to rehab, back to AA. He couldn't make promises, but he could go one day at a time.

He'd watched her walk away, down the hall, back to work, and he stood there, sorry. He was sorry, but for his behavior, and as he stood there, he also realized he was a sorry excuse for a person right now. A lot had contributed to that, but there was only so much you could change in your life. He'd tried to get Sharon to see how sorry he was. He could see the sorrow in her eyes, her expression, the shaking of her head, letting him know she was sad and disappointed. He sent her a text a few minutes later as he rode the elevator downstairs.

"I am sorry, Sharon. You obviously know that AA is a one day at a time thing and people slip up. Your little pal, Andy there, I'm sure has taught you that. I hope when I'm better we can talk again. I am sorry, Sharon, sorry for this mess, and I hope you can forgive me."

Forgiveness. He felt it was a two-way street. Yes, Sharon had to forgive him for so much, but he thought she would and could do that. He had to forgive her too, for different things, for finally ending their marriage, for giving up on everything. He could and would work on forgiving her too. Maybe they could move past this when he was healthy again. Maybe. Futures weren't certain. Maybe theirs could have a happy ending. He'd lost Sharon, but he wasn't sure if she was gone forever; maybe they could be civil, even friends, even though he'd like more again. Maybe she'd give him one more chance. Maybe. She kept saying she wasn't dating Flynn, fine. Maybe there was a chance. Maybe she wasn't getting more serious about Flynn because she had hope for Jack. One thing was sure, though. The drinking had clouded things. He was going to stop. He meant it this time, and he hoped that when the fog cleared in his head, he could sit down with Sharon once again. Maybe, just maybe.

His life was a mess, that he knew. It had been good before, decades ago. It had been good with Sharon. She'd ended any hopes of that, so building a new life, a happy life, was something Jack didn't know how to do. He really wanted that life to be with Sharon, but deep in his heart, he knew it was too late. Watching her walk away, his ex-wife, he knew. He would be lucky if she forgave him. Give it time, he thought to himself. Maybe time could heal those wounds, for both himself and for Sharon. He'd get sober, get better, and maybe, just maybe, he could get back into her good graces.