She tiptoed across the room to collect the last of her things. Thankfully, she'd found her purse where she had remembered dropping it. The dark room was making it difficult to remember the location of everything, but her training had taught her to study her surroundings. Of course, her judgement had been a little clouded when she'd dropped it, but nevertheless, she had it now. Only a few steps, and she would be out of the room. Two more steps….she'd made it.
Sharon stepped into the hallway and pulled the door mostly closed, not wanting to make another sound. She let out her breath. Oh, this was awkward. She'd never done anything like this before. She looked around at the surroundings, a dim light on overhead by the front door to the apartment. It was a pretty meager looking place, but it was clean and fine. She wouldn't be back. She smoothed her hair with her hand and walked across the room toward the door. The place had a weird layout, and there was a long bar countertop almost directly at the front door. Her back remembered that, remembered running into it and was still a bit sore. She saw a wallet left there on the countertop and opened it, curious to the owner. She had remembered his first name, Andy, duh, but they really hadn't exchanged more than that. Her face sunk when she opened the wallet.
There it sat, a badge, not just any badge, but LAPD, just like hers. She knew that badge, and she sighed, realizing that yes, of course, he would be a cop. They hadn't exchanged a lot of personal information; that had not been the point, but it should make sense that he was a cop. Meeting him in a place cops were referred, well, yes, he was a cop too. Hopefully, things wouldn't be awkward going forward because she didn't plan for any other encounters with this Officer Flynn. They'd had a good time, a very good time, as she recalled the events in her head, a lazy smile creeping onto her face, but she wasn't this kind of woman. No, he drank too much. He was going rough a divorce too, and well, she wasn't interested in this, not now.
Who ever heard of picking up a guy in your divorce lawyer's office, spending all evening with him, going home with him, and then, finding out that he was a fellow officer? Of course, he was. This was her payback for throwing all caution to the wind. She sighed again, closed the wallet, and she looked around, almost taking in the bleak, depressing apartment before walking away from it.
"Oh, hey, you are still here," she spun around to see the man of the hour stepping from his room. He'd thrown on some clothing, any clothing, and now had on boxers and a t-shirt.
"I was just leaving," she sputtered and pointed to the door. "I have to get home. I, ahh, wasn't planning to be out all night."
"Right, yeah, sure," he said, nodding to her. "Hey, ahh, well, if you want to get together again, umm-" He put his hand to his head, obviously fighting off a nasty headache after the night, and she jumped in.
"Sharon," she told him. "It's Sharon."
"Yeah," he said, nodding, as he looked up at her. "I remember." She studied him, not sure if he really did remember or if he was just good at lying. He gestured to his kitchen area.
"Can I get you something? Coffee? I can put on a pot. I'm out of lot of things, but I can make eggs or something."
"No, thanks," she shook her head, a slight shrug. "Ahh, I'm not sure what to say. I was hoping to maybe leave before you got up. I'm a little embarrassed. I've never done this kind of thing before, and I don't know the protocols."
He chuckled and wiped his hand over his face, as he walked up to a chair and put his hands on it. "Protocols. You make it sound so formal. There are no protocols, Sharon. It was just an evening of fun, two consenting adults having fun, and fun we had," he grinned with a wink. "I mean," he gestured at her, "I hope you had fun, the ahh," he scratched his head, "three times we had fun?"
She blushed and looked down, well aware of their long night together. She had been desperate for a release, for a night away from her disaster of a marriage break up, and she'd found it in him, Andy.
"Ahh, yes, I suppose it was," she said, still looking down. "I should go."
"I mean," he gestured again, "no official protocols, but if there's anything to make it less awkward, at least for the future," he gestured to her with a wink and smile, "it's to have one last roll in the hay before you sneak off. Just for your information. I mean, if you want, now, we could." He hooked his hand back toward the bedroom.
"No," she pursed her lip,, "I do have to go. Umm, thanks for the tip," she glanced up, her eyes darting around and finally meeting his. "This is still really awkward. So, I guess I will just go."
"Right, sure," he said, walking toward her and the door. She picked up her purse, and he yawned as he walked toward her. She could see the lean muscles in his arms. He was fit, tall, and he'd been well, very good in bed. She couldn't argue that. His dark hair was already starting to get some hints of gray in it, but she didn't believe he was that old. Those were details they hadn't shared and didn't need to know, not now.
"Umm, well, thanks," she said with a small smile and wave to him, as he reached around her to open the door.
"Yeah, no problem, umm, thank you," he said to her, giving her a big smile. "I had a great time. I guess good luck with your divorce."
"Oh, yes, you too," she said, now stepping outside into the long narrow exterior hallway. This building was old, and she could hear the street noise from here. She turned as he leaned against the door.
"Yeah," he waved. "My divorce is as good as finished. I was just signing some of the final paperwork. She got everything," he sighed. "So," he gestured at her, ""thanks for taking my mind off things, for err, celebrating my being single again."
"Oh, I didn't realize that you were that far along with the process. I'm at the opposite end, just starting the proceedings," she said with a firm nod.
"Well, good luck, and take my advice, don't let him get everything," he scowled. ""I'm going back to bed, headache that wont' quit."
"Yes, well, thanks, and feel better," Sharon told him and took off, almost running to her car, realizing she had said thanks more times than she wanted to count. She was ready to put the whole awkward experience behind her.
Sharon climbed into her old, ratty car, and she looked over at the passenger seat. The pile of paperwork was there, paperwork she planned to now deliver to Jack. Her new lawyer had said he could do it, but no, she wanted the satisfaction. Jack had cheated on her for the last time. After catching him with another woman last week-he'd almost started going through a woman of the week and didn't even care she knew, she'd taken action. In her mind, what she had done last night was not the same. She had already taken the steps to start divorce proceedings, and her marriage was long over. Jack had made that clear when he'd broken their vows many, many times over. She was just taking that first step toward freedom, toward her own independence. It felt freeing, and while she hated everything about the awkwardness of it, she was glad for the night, glad she'd called out on her overnight shift. It had not been planned, but it had been necessary to her.
She made her way home, winding her car through the side streets of L.A. toward her own old and rather depressing home. They owed way too much money on it; she couldn't believe it had cost as much as it had. Well, it hadn't been as much as they now owed, but Jack had convinced her to take out a second mortgage on it to replace the roof and update the kitchen. Now, they owed way too much. It would all have to be settled in the divorce. For the time being, she just wanted a shower and to recover her dignity as she tried to enjoy her day.
Hopefully, ash she glanced at the clock, she would miss him. He left for work at all hours, but it was still rather early. They had been doing a good job of missing each other lately, but at some point, she would need to address the issue of a divorce. She just didn't want to do it this morning when she still smelled like another man. With her odd hours at work, he wouldn't question where she had been, plus, she'd been the perfect wife, never to even bat an eye at another man, not until yesterday when she'd been ready to pounce on any man giving her a second glance. It was her freedom, her redemption, and as awkward as the last half hour had been, getting gout of Andy's place, it had been so worth it.
Sharon sighed and muttered to herself as she pulled up to the curb of their house. His car was still in the driveway, a single car driveway, and she didn't dare park behind him. That would only spark a conversation about moving her car, and she didn't really want to talk to Jack. Lookin at his car, his new BMW, really, all she wanted to do was key his car. Yes, that sounded like another good release. She'd needed one last night, and she needed one now, but she wouldn't dare key his car. She was an officer of the law, and the neighbors knew it. She would look ridiculous doing that in the early morning light.
Sharon collected her purse, and she stepped out of the car, taking in the air. She couldn't even call it clean air, because it was LA smog. As she walked up the driveway, the side door from the kitchen flew open, and Jack came flying out to her.
"Where have you been? I called your desk, and the day person didn't know where you were or what," he scowled. She paused and frowned.
"Hello, Jack. I caught some sleep at work, as I often do. Yes?" Sharon asked, drawing out the word as she stared back at him. He was mostly dressed, his tie still draped around his neck, and he didn't have his jacket.
He scowled, and blurted out to her, "As much as you loathe me, I've been the one here at home all night and took the call this morning."
"What call?" Sharon asked crossing her arms. Mentally, she went through her head. Work hadn't called; she had a pager, and it had not gone off.
"Your mother died," he blurted out. "Stroke, overnight. Your aunt called. They were on the phone to each other when it happened. When your mother didn't answer, your aunt called for an ambulance. Sorry, but there was no easy way to tell you."
Sharon clutched her chest and slumped back against the car. Jack started to reach for her, but she pushed him away and started to stagger toward the house.
"Sharon, I'm very sorry," Jack called after her and followed her inside. "I didn't know how to tell you. Your aunt called maybe 30 minutes ago."
Sharon caught herself at the door, listening to that, 30 minutes. 30 minutes ago, she'd been looking a man eye to eye, a man she'd shared a bed with t he night before, a man not her husband, and now, she was being punished; her mother had died. Her Catholic guilt hit her full furry. As she stepped into their newly updated kitchen, she tried to compose herself, her eyes clouded over with unshed tears. She needed to sit and take in the morning's problems.
She finally broke down when her eyes landed on Emily, sweet Emily, there in her high chair, oblivious to all going on as she mashed at her banana. At just over a year old, she was a delightful baby, the best thing to come of her marriage, but she was not enough of a reason to stay with Jack, the man who had been openly cheating on her now. After catching him the first time, he had almost dared her to do anything about it. After the second time, when she hadn't done more, she'd found him soon again with a third. He had no intention of being faithful; he'd shown that much, and now, he didn't seem to be phased by the latest development. He walked back inside, closing the door and looked down at her.
"Are you alright?" Jack asked. Sharon put her head in her hands on the table and cried quietly, shaking her head. She found the words, "I'll be fine, Jack. Just go to work."
"Ahh, Emily has had her breakfast," he told her. "Selena fed that to her before she left. She thought you would want some privacy today."
Sharon looked up at him, something in the way he said it, and when she did, she could see the guilt in his eyes. He darted his head away, and she stood to follow him down the hall, not sure what to process at the moment. Her mother's death hadn't truly hit her, and yet, she had this mess, or several messes already this morning.
"Jack, Selena?" Sharon asked, she followed him down the hall. She paused at the guest bedroom, and with the mess in there, she knew. "Jack!" Sharon yelled, and he turned to face her. He was just steps down the hall, messing with his tie. He gave her a guilty look.
"You slept with her, didn't you? You slept with her in the guest bedroom, the room she's been using when she stays overnight! You slept with our babysitter! What is that, now four women, Jack?"
He looked to the floor and spoke, not looking at her, "Look, Sharon, you and I both know this isn't working. I need more, and you are all about settling down, being a family. Selena likes being a babysitter because they aren't her kids. She was here, and you weren't. She's young and fun. You haven't been here for me in a long time."
"Because I was first, pregnant with your child, and then, I was too disgusted at the women you've been sleeping with probably during and since Emily was born. My goodness, Jack! Now, it's right here in our home, just steps from our daughter's room! It was bad enough when I found out about the hotel rooms. Now, you're in the guest room. What's next-our bedroom?"
Emily started to fuss, and he looked up, nodding to Sharon, "I'm sure she would like to see her mom who hasn't been home all night. I've got to go to work and make the real money." He turned and walked into the bedroom, leaving Sharon there to process everything. She spun around and walked to the kitchen where Emily was now in full tears. Sharon kissed her head, wiped off her daughter, and she picked her up, holding her tightly. In just a few hours, her disaster of a life had exploded on her. She started to cry, holding her sweet girl close to her. Her mother was dead. She hadn't started to process that and now would. Her mother was gone. She, Sharon, had slept with another man, not her husband. As much as she knew those two events were not tied together, it was still easy to blame herself. She'd come home to find out not only about her mother, but also that her husband was now sleeping with the babysitter right there in their home. No, she couldn't handle all of this. It was too much, but her daughter in her arms told her she had to deal with everything-alone.
Sharon pulled back and looked at her sweet girl, still dressed in her pajamas. She kissed her cheek, and at that moment, Jack came through the kitchen, pulling on his jacket.
"Look, I'm sorry about your mom. I know you loved her, and with your dad already gone, she was it. I'm sorry you had to discover Selena and I were together like that. Before your aunt called, I had planned to change the sheets," he admitted.
"Hmm, how thoughtful," Sharon grumbled, eyeing him. "Not the first time?"
"With Selena," he chuckled. "No, hardly. You work a lot of nights, Shar, and in today's society, some couples are embracing this open relationship."
"Yes, well, not me," Sharon told Jack as he put his hand on the door to leave for work. "Jack, there are papers in the car. I'm done. They were drawn up yesterday, so feel free to get them on your way out."
He paused, turning back to her, "You can't be serious. You don't have the money to go at it on your own, not with your salary, and you know my firm will bury you."
"Dead serious, Jack," she told him, standing her ground.
He nodded, looking down, "Well, there won't be any money. Sorry to break it to you, Shar, but everything is mortgaged completely. There's no money. I have nothing."
""Just go, Jack," she sighed, shifting Emily who was looking between her parents. "I won't expect you at the funeral. I'll make excuses, but by the afternoon, Emily and I will be on our way. I suggest you figure out things before I get back."
""At least you have one thing right," he nodded to her. "You can have full custody."