Three days had passed since Michelle had left him. Three days of anger, misery and loneliness. And beer. Lots of beer.
Tony had barely moved from the sofa, staring at the TV, but not watching. No matter how much he drank, he couldn't remove the image of Michelle's face as she left from his mind. Horrified. She hadn't looked at him as her husband. She'd looked at him as if he were a brutal murderer. And he could have been, if Jack hadn't got to him before he'd exchanged Saunder's daughter for Michelle, Tony rued. Millions of people could have been murdered because of him. The one person who wouldn't have been killed was Michelle. But now she'd left him. Alone.
He knew he shouldn't have pulled her back, or raised his fist. He hadn't meant to, and would never normally have dreamed of doing such a thing. He'd just been so damn frustrated, and… drunk. He hadn't wanted to hit her, and wouldn't have, but had needed to stop her from leaving him. Besides, he hadn't hit her, Tony argued to himself, and if he hadn't pulled her back, she would have left anyway. It was Michelle's fault that he'd been so angry anyway; he'd gone to prison for her, but she couldn't live with him simply because he enjoyed the occasional drink!
Michelle was lying facedown on her bed fighting back tears. Again. When she had knocked on Claire's door in the early hours of the morning, shaking, with tears streaming down her face, Claire hadn't asked questions. Nor seemed too surprised. Michelle had called in sick for the past three days, knowing that it wouldn't look very good just after her promotion, but not caring. She'd lost Tony.
When she had walked - or rather run - out of their house three nights ago, Michelle hadn't known that she was going to leave Tony for good. All she had known was that she couldn't be around him in the state he was in. But she knew that unless Tony stopped drinking so much, she couldn't return to live with him. She couldn't live in fear of her husband, worried whether he was going to raise his fist again. She knew Tony would never hit her soberly. And she didn't think he would even when he was drunk. But he'd been so worked up last night that she hadn't felt safe. He was just so different when he was drunk.
She had to know if he was going to stop drinking. Her head knew that he wouldn't, but her heart was screaming at her to return to him. She had to check. Raising a shaking hand, Michelle grabbed the phone and dialed the number. It rang for almost a full minute before he answered.
"Tony, it's me" she almost whispered, terrified of his reaction, but praying that he would be sober. Please be sober.
There was a long pause at the end of the phone. "What do you want?" he asked roughly, slurring the words.
Michelle closed her eyes, and forced herself to hold back tears. He didn't love her enough to give up drink. He blamed her for what had happened. She felt completely drained, and at a complete loss over what to say.
"Michelle?" Tony barked, still furious. Selfish bitch.
"I… uh…" Michelle paused, and took a deep breath. "Tony… I don't want to be apart, but I can't live with you if you keep drinking. Please?" she begged. "Stop drinking."
"You can't bloody well control me, Michelle! How can you leave me after everything I did for you?"
"Tony, I don't want to, I swear, but I can't live like this!" Michelle pleaded desperately, knowing that whatever she said would make no difference.
"You don't want me! Fine! Bye Michelle!" Tony slammed the phone, stood up, and stormed out of the house. He needed another drink.
Michelle replaced the receiver, unable to stop the sobs from erupting from within her. That was it. She knew Tony wasn't going to change, and she couldn't live with him like this. She'd have to leave him. She buried her head further into the sheets until it became difficult to breathe, and wept.
"Another beer" Tony mumbled to the barmaid, having drained the last remaining drop from his current glass.
"Rough day?" she asked, not recognising him from previous nights. Usually customers who drank this much were regulars at the bar.
Tony rested his head in his hands, and glanced up at the barmaid. She seemed interested in him, and what he had to say. He couldn't blame her, given the state of the rest of the customers in the bar. He felt like crying, but couldn't; not in front of all these people. The fact that Michelle had gone was slowly sinking in, and sorrow was quickly replacing anger.
"My wife…" he started, his voice cracking. The barmaid handed him the beer, her heart sinking at these words. Damn, he was married. But then, all the cute guys were.
"She left me" Tony said sadly, drawing his finger across the spilt beer on the bar.
The barmaid pricked her ears up at this, and moved closer to Tony. "Why?" she asked, hoping she didn't seem too intrusive.
"She didn't like me drinking" Tony said simply, not wanting to reveal any other details of their arguments. Especially not the fact that he'd spent six months in prison. He flashed a look at the barmaid, wondering how she would take this news. She didn't look at him with disgust, as Michelle had done when he was drunk. And she didn't seem to mind his company while he was drunk. Not surprising really, considering where she works, Tony thought.
He looked the barmaid up and down, noting her pretty face. She wasn't a patch on Michelle, but she wasn't ugly, and didn't mind his company while he was drunk. That was all he needed right now.
"What's your name?" he asked, the alcohol lowering his inhibitions.
"Jen" she replied, casting him a smile. "What about you?"
"Tony" he slurred. Jen obviously liked him, and he was grateful to have found someone who didn't mind the drink.
Jen seemed to sense that he might be willing to talk to here, so asked gently, "Do you want to talk about it?"
Tony looked up. She was staring at him sympathetically, whilst filling a pint glass with beer for someone further down the bar. He stared back down at the bar, and began to pour his heart out. He told Jen everything, excluding certain details that were classified. She listened carefully, helping him along with sympathetic comments and appropriate reactions. When Tony drew to a close, having related the final argument with Michelle to her, he was still focused on the bar in front of him, afraid to look up and see Jen's reaction.
"It must be awful for you Tony", she said, hoping to gain his trust. "I see drunks in here everyday, and you're not like them. I can see you're not like them. No offence, but she doesn't seem all that nice, after everything you've done for her. She doesn't seem to understand you". Jen stopped, praying that Tony wouldn't defend his wife, and would instead appreciate her comments.
Tony breathed out, and there was a long pause. Slowly he tilted his head up, so that they were gazing into each other's eyes. "Look, I appreciate you listening," he started hesitantly. "Talking about it helps. But… uh… I should probably get home. It's late, and…" he broke off, not wanting to admit that he needed to check if Michelle had called.
Jen felt disappointed, but wasn't giving up yet. "You want a lift home? I get off in half an hour, it's no problem".
Tony was about to refuse, but the thought of stumbling home unable to think of anything but Michelle caused him to waver. And damn, he could use a friend right now. He nodded, and thanked Jen.
Forty minutes later, Tony was climbing out of Jen's car. "Thanks" he slurred, turned, and fell. He lay dazed for a second, then tried to pull himself up from the ground. He felt a pair of warm hands helping him up, and stumbled inside with Jen's help. She half-dragged him into the bedroom, where Tony suddenly felt violently sick. He managed to make it into the bathroom, where he threw up, Jen rubbing his back to soothe him.
Tony stood up, and turned to face Jen.
She didn't mind him drinking.
She seemed to understand what he was going through.
She had taken his side over Michelle.
He leaned in and kissed her, a fiery passion developing between the two of them. He needed Michelle, but Jen would do for tonight. Just tonight.