It's been a rough couple of weeks, hell if I'm honest with myself, it's
been a rough couple of months. Ever since Fred's heart attack, things have
been tense between Boz and I.
I often think I'm doomed to be unhappy. It's almost as if I'm leading two lives. In one I'm a mother and wife, and the other I'm a cop. It's not to say that I don't love being a cop, or a mother, or even a wife, it's just, the two rarely compliment one another. It's funny, for the longest time I came to work to escape my family life, now it seems it's the other way around.
Despite the tension with Boz, I've really missed him. Hell I missed him even before he left to work in anti-crime. He's really lucky he didn't lose his job. I thought for sure he would. I'd really like to be able to blame this entire situation on that bitch Cruz, but I know I'm partly to blame.
I think tonight was the first night Boz and I have spoken in the three weeks he's been back. I know he's sorry, he knows I'm sorry, we just can't seem to speak the words. Even if we could, forgiveness would still be a long time coming. Still, we've made a small hole in the ice, so it's a start.
I'm startled to see Boz sitting in front of his locker. I didn't expect him to still be here.
"You're still here, I'd have thought you'd left by now."
I meant that to come out a little less pathetic then it sounded. Boz doesn't seem to notice, in fact he's staring at me, I begin to feel weak but I still manage to look him in the eye.
He looks away first, something I'm thankful for, I didn't think I could endure the hurt and guilt I saw in his eyes any longer. I begin changing to go home, although for some reason the thought of going home saddens me.
"You want to grab a drink"
Now that's a surprise. I can tell by the look on his face that he expects me to decline. I don't though, I'm not even sure why, I should go home, but I need this, we need this.
"Sure"
I've managed to throw him off guard but he looks pleased. I grab my coat and we walk out to his car.
We drive to a small dingy out of the way place. It's dark and crowded but we somehow manage to find a table in the corner, away from the noise and smoke.
Neither of us speaks until the silence is broken by the approach of our waitress. I can tell she's young but she seems older, worn almost. I wonder if I look worn now. We order a couple of beers, domestic, and the silence continues.
"So, how are you?"
I know it's a stupid thing to say the minute it's left my mouth but I can't think of anything else right now and I know someone needs to say something.
"I'm OK, you?"
The look he's giving me expresses everything I feel, all the hurt, confusion and loneliness I know must be reflected on my own features.
I've decided I've had enough of playing games and come right to the point.
"You didn't ask me for a drink so we could make polite conversation Boz"
There is a brief pause before he responds but I know he expected no less from me.
"No, I just thought, hell Faith, I don't know what's going on anymore, I just want things to go back to the way they were. You're my best friend and partner and I need that back."
His honesty frightens me and I'm not sure why. This is after all what I wanted but it's too much. My response is delayed with the arrival of our drinks. I take a long drink before I say something I'll regret.
"You lied to me"
Too late, guess the alcohol didn't help. I want to take it back, I know I've struck a nerve but my anger has gotten the better of me. His expression changes from guilt to anger and I know I've screwed up.
"It's not like you've never lied to me Faith"
His tone's angry but his eyes are full of sadness.
"I know, and I'm sorry."
His expression softens and I'm relieved beyond words. I don't want to fight anymore, I just want my partner back.
"Me too, ..God Faith I fucked up so bad, I'm so sorry."
I can never resist that wounded puppy dog look he gives me. He knows this and I wonder if he's doing it intentionally. I feel a sense of calm come over me and realize it's going to be OK, we're going to be OK.
I reach across the table and take his hand. The move surprises me as much as it does him, but he smiles and I can't help the grin that breaks out on my face.
We finish our beers in a silence that is once again comfortable. I let him drive me home and when I leave his car I feel the return of happiness that has been missing for months.
I often think I'm doomed to be unhappy. It's almost as if I'm leading two lives. In one I'm a mother and wife, and the other I'm a cop. It's not to say that I don't love being a cop, or a mother, or even a wife, it's just, the two rarely compliment one another. It's funny, for the longest time I came to work to escape my family life, now it seems it's the other way around.
Despite the tension with Boz, I've really missed him. Hell I missed him even before he left to work in anti-crime. He's really lucky he didn't lose his job. I thought for sure he would. I'd really like to be able to blame this entire situation on that bitch Cruz, but I know I'm partly to blame.
I think tonight was the first night Boz and I have spoken in the three weeks he's been back. I know he's sorry, he knows I'm sorry, we just can't seem to speak the words. Even if we could, forgiveness would still be a long time coming. Still, we've made a small hole in the ice, so it's a start.
I'm startled to see Boz sitting in front of his locker. I didn't expect him to still be here.
"You're still here, I'd have thought you'd left by now."
I meant that to come out a little less pathetic then it sounded. Boz doesn't seem to notice, in fact he's staring at me, I begin to feel weak but I still manage to look him in the eye.
He looks away first, something I'm thankful for, I didn't think I could endure the hurt and guilt I saw in his eyes any longer. I begin changing to go home, although for some reason the thought of going home saddens me.
"You want to grab a drink"
Now that's a surprise. I can tell by the look on his face that he expects me to decline. I don't though, I'm not even sure why, I should go home, but I need this, we need this.
"Sure"
I've managed to throw him off guard but he looks pleased. I grab my coat and we walk out to his car.
We drive to a small dingy out of the way place. It's dark and crowded but we somehow manage to find a table in the corner, away from the noise and smoke.
Neither of us speaks until the silence is broken by the approach of our waitress. I can tell she's young but she seems older, worn almost. I wonder if I look worn now. We order a couple of beers, domestic, and the silence continues.
"So, how are you?"
I know it's a stupid thing to say the minute it's left my mouth but I can't think of anything else right now and I know someone needs to say something.
"I'm OK, you?"
The look he's giving me expresses everything I feel, all the hurt, confusion and loneliness I know must be reflected on my own features.
I've decided I've had enough of playing games and come right to the point.
"You didn't ask me for a drink so we could make polite conversation Boz"
There is a brief pause before he responds but I know he expected no less from me.
"No, I just thought, hell Faith, I don't know what's going on anymore, I just want things to go back to the way they were. You're my best friend and partner and I need that back."
His honesty frightens me and I'm not sure why. This is after all what I wanted but it's too much. My response is delayed with the arrival of our drinks. I take a long drink before I say something I'll regret.
"You lied to me"
Too late, guess the alcohol didn't help. I want to take it back, I know I've struck a nerve but my anger has gotten the better of me. His expression changes from guilt to anger and I know I've screwed up.
"It's not like you've never lied to me Faith"
His tone's angry but his eyes are full of sadness.
"I know, and I'm sorry."
His expression softens and I'm relieved beyond words. I don't want to fight anymore, I just want my partner back.
"Me too, ..God Faith I fucked up so bad, I'm so sorry."
I can never resist that wounded puppy dog look he gives me. He knows this and I wonder if he's doing it intentionally. I feel a sense of calm come over me and realize it's going to be OK, we're going to be OK.
I reach across the table and take his hand. The move surprises me as much as it does him, but he smiles and I can't help the grin that breaks out on my face.
We finish our beers in a silence that is once again comfortable. I let him drive me home and when I leave his car I feel the return of happiness that has been missing for months.