Author's Notes: Thanks to everyone who reviewed... I'm glad you liked it... Just keep with me... I know where this is all going, I just finished chapter ten and I'm moving along quite nicely... So just bear with all the pain and tears and outrage and keep reading.. Pretty please?! And please review... Now off to the main presentation....
I played with the cup, there was nothing left to do. After a long and eventful day, including an unexpected visitor, I was beat. I was the only one left sitting in the living room. The tree glowed with lights and ornaments, the hallways were decorated with holly and mistletoe. It looked like a picture from a fairy tale, or a movie with a really high budget. I don't think I've ever just sat back and taken it all in. The flames play and crackle against the logs in the fireplace, but it would slowly die down, and I would be left only with the candles spread out across the room to light my way. I should be tired, and I am, but I know I won't be able to fall asleep. This might be our last official Christmas as a real family. I don't know where Carter and I are heading. We're like a road that had begun to separate in two different directions.
I think back on everyone in the house. Amy's in my room, since we're boarding Jacks' girlfriend in her room. The twins got their own rooms, along with Ethan and Millie. Dad even came home, to most of our surprises. I've always had a strong relationship with Jack, he's really great. I know John and him have their differences, but I always seem to end up on Jack's side. Maybe its because I never knew my father, and he accepted me with arms wide open. Whatever the case may be, it was a pleasant surprise. We put dad into Carter's room, and Carter took the spare bedroom. He said I could have it, but he needed a good night's sleep. He had worked the night before, and he seemed tired all during dinner. It's funny, we haven't slept in the same room for years. I think it was right before Amy left for school, that we somehow got separate rooms, and separate beds. Only heaven knows when the last time we made love was. We were the picture perfect family on the outside, but on the inside, behind all the lies, we were falling apart faster than ever.
Our housekeeper, Grace, had also come home to be here on Christmas. I told her she didn't need to be, but after a little digging, I found out she had no place to go. Her sons were already grown up, and didn't feel like dealing with their mother on top of grouchy wives and annoying children. So I invited her to spend it with us, she was almost a part of the family. She had been with the Carter's ever since John as a little kid. She was excited by it, and she would never know how thankful I was for everything she's ever done for us.
So now I was out of a bed and room. I didn't mind it too. I could probably slip into the other side of bed with Carter, but that would be so awkward in the morning. I'll just sleep on the couch in the den, and get an early morning started. I heard footsteps behind me, the sound of slippers on the marble floors. It was barely audible, since there was a light jazz CD on the background. I flipped around to see who it might be, and he made his way toward me. My husband put out his hand, as if asking me to dance, but I simply rolled my eyes at him. He had these moments where he would try to convince me that everything was okay. We both knew it was way past salvageable. I watched his hand slowly fall limp and his side, and he took the cup from my hand. I knew he could smell the liquor from the cup, much more from my breathe. It definitely wasn't my first of the night. He tossed the crystal glass into the fire, shattering pieces flying over the hearth, and onto the floor. The alcohol only made the fire grow fiercer, burn longer. He wandered up the stairs, and a few seconds later, I heard another set of feet, this time, I knew who it was.
"Amy, go back to bed."
I heard her walk closer to me, but she halted at my side. I didn't want to look up at her, because I felt my tears welding up in my eyes. She had probably heard what had happened. Carter would never hit me, he channeled his anger by ignoring me, by working, by going to the gym. He had never raised a hand to me, and he probably never will. I can't say that I wasn't afraid at that split second that he might loose it all together. I'm not sure what he's capable of just yet. I bow my head and let my hair cover my eyes, giving me more control over the situation. I see something drop into my lap, a worn piece of paper, that looks ages old. Amy turns around and leaves, the creak in the stairs the most certain sign. I wipe away the tears that fell, and reach for the paper Amy left. I start to unfold it, being careful of the creases. It looks like its been through hell. What if its an old letter Amy wrote to us, telling us what horrible parents we were, or how much she hated us when she was younger. I don't know what to expect. I can't expect the unexpected. I've never been good at that.
I open the paper in the dim light, barley making out the handwriting. I search for the date that doesn't exist. The opening words send me rolling back in time. Dear Abby... By the time you read this letter, Luka should be safe in America and you'll probably be wondering why I'm not with him... No. Not now. Amy might have through it would make things better, but in reality, it only makes things worse. He left me for some African, he didn't want to work things out, he didn't want me. He made it clear then, I just can't figure out why he came back to me. He could have had any woman in Chicago, and he chose me. It was probably because I would be easy to please, easy to keep around. I wasn't so bad in bed, either. I don't know his motivations. I don't know how long it took for him to say I love you to me the first time. It was way past our wedding, that's all I can remember.
We shouldn't have gone through with it, we shouldn't have ended up together. We were no good the first time around, why did we choose to torture ourselves further. I can't regret everything, since I have five beautiful, smart, wonderful children because of him. Children I probably wouldn't have had without him, both in the physical and mental sense. I didn't have a bad life with him, it was wonderful. The dream life for any woman, except for me. I didn't care about the mansion, the money, the cars, the wealth. If I could only have someone love me for all that I am, my insecurities and downfalls, I would be happy. I don't know, maybe I was happy for once. I never expected myself to be with a person for so long, after my first failed attempted at marriage.
And I can't say I didn't love him. Because I thought I did, I thought we would be able to work everything out, that all the trouble we went through would make us stronger. I played my own game of proving to him I changed, I wanted him more than anything else in this world. I knew he didn't want the old Abby, the old screwed up, insecure, alcoholic Abby. I changed for him, I made myself better for him. Maybe he came back to me out of need or guilt. Looking back, we should have never given it a second chance.
I crumple the paper back up, I don't know why I kept it. I throw it into the flames, just like Carter had moments ago. The flames take it and feed off it, burning it into a million ashes I will never see again. I had never wished for the holidays to be over more than today. The clock rung out midnight, the eerie sound echoing through the whole first floor. Merry Christmas. I want the day to finally finish, so I can stop putting on an act to save my kids the worries. I want to be able to walk near Carter and not have him completely ignore me, or resent me. We avoided each other at all costs lately, even working opposite shifts. I want the divorce papers in my hand. I wasn't asking for half of everything, I wasn't even asking for anything. I had money saved up in the bank, my own work. I could get a decent condo on the lakefront, and work for food and bills. I would pull off a few extra shifts now and then. It wouldn't be so bad. And hopefully Carter would move on too, find someone who lights up his life, who makes him smile.