Fighting and fucking. They seemed to be the only two things Joanne and I were good at anymore. Either we couldn't stand each other or we couldn't keep our hands off of each other.
I'm sure everyone thought that our relationship was going to fall apart any second. But I was determined to make it work with Joanne.
We never really discussed the wedding. There were a bunch of decisions that needed to be made and Joanne immediately took the responsibility all on herself.
I wanted to help, but every time I offered she shrugged me off, telling me that she had everything under control. Sometimes she could make me feel like such a child, being told what I could and couldn't do by my mother instead of in a relationship with my future wife.
Whenever I would bring up the fact that she was treating me like a child instead of a capable woman she would roll her eyes and tell me that she would treat me like an adult when I started acting like one.
After three fights that all ended in me sleeping on the couch, I decided to just let it go. I was tired of fighting with her.
Rehearsals for my new show was the only place where I could just let go. I would bottle up all of the things wrong in my life and then take them out on the other characters on stage.
It was easier to let my character feel all of my emotions than it was to feel them myself.
As the days went on my scenes were becoming more and more emotional until finally I was almost constantly crying on stage.
"Alright, everyone. That's good for today. I don't think Maureen can take much more of this." The director said with a laugh.
I looked up from where I was sitting on the stage and dried my tears on my sleeve. He was right. I didn't know how much more emotion I could take.
"Go home, get some rest. I'll see all of you tomorrow." The rest of the cast gathered up their things and walked out, talking and laughing.
I stayed back, trying to collect my thoughts. I didn't want to go back to the apartment. I wanted to do anything to avoid another fight with Joanne.
"You look like you could use a drink." I looked up to see Becca Henson standing in front of me.
"I could use more than a drink." I mumbled, running my fingers through my hair.
"What's wrong?" Becca asked innocently. She was young, barely twenty one, still in college. Her blonde hair, blue eyes and light skin had most of the guys in the cast drooling over her. We had become good friends while working together.
"Life is wrong." I closed my eyes.
"Come on, I'm taking you out for a drink." Becca said, holding her hand out to me.
"I should go home." I said, taking her hand. She helped me to my feet and lead me down the stairs off the stage.
"You can't take time out of your busy life to go out with a friend?" She had a point. Joanne wasn't going to be home until late. She had a new case.
"Fine." I said, defeated. Becca smiled and dragged me out of the theater and down the street. I didn't know where she was taking me, but as we passed my building I began to feel guilty.
Although I wasn't planning on cheating on Joanne I felt bad about just going out with Becca. I didn't want to go out and bitch about my failing relationship.
I wanted to just talk to Joanne without feeling inferior because I wasn't a Harvard graduate. I was sure that if I just talked to her, let her know how I was feeling, I would be okay.
The bar smelled of cheap booze, sweat, and cigarette smoke. I didn't like being around cigarettes, especially while I was working on a show, because it could ruin my voice, but Becca pulled on my hand, dragging me through clouds of cigarette smoke towards the bar.
I shouldn't have been there. I shouldn't have ordered a shot of tequila when the bar tender asked me what I wanted. And I sure as hell shouldn't have pounded two shots on top of that on an empty stomach.
"So what's wrong? You seem so sad all the time. You were so happy when we first started rehearsals." Becca sipped her beer and tilted her head to the side.
"Everything's just getting all complicated." I said, looking down at the three empty shot glasses in front of me.
"It can't be that bad." She said, putting her hand on my shoulder. I shook my head, using it as an excuse to shake her hand off me.
"Oh it is. My girlfriend and I fight constantly. I mean, she tells me that she loves me all the time and we're supposed to be getting married, but we can barely stand to be in the same room with each other. Something's gotta give, ya know?"
I raised my hand, signaling to the bar tender for another drink. Becca sat in silence for a second, watching as I downed my fourth shot. I fought the urge to cough as the harsh alcohol burned it's way down my throat to my already warm stomach. I was starting to get light headed.
"Does she make you happy?" Becca leaned closer, her voice soft. I smiled sadly.
"Yeah, she does. I just wish she would try and seem me for me. It feels like she's trying to change me."
I felt a gentle pat on my knee and I jumped, turning my head sharply to look at her.
"She doesn't deserve you then." Becca was moving closer, her breath tasting like stale beer against my lips.
I didn't want her to kiss me.
When I felt her lips brush teasingly against mine I pulled back, pushing her hand off my knee.
"What the fuck, Becca?" I asked angrily, moving to my feet.
"Oh come on, Maureen. We've been flirting with each other since we met. You know that I wanted to hook up with you." Becca said defensively.
"Did you miss the fact that I have a girlfriend that I love, who I'm engaged to?" Reaching into my pocket I pulled out fifteen dollars and slapped it down on the bar.
"Don't be so dramatic. I was just looking to have some fun." She reached out, settling an uncomfortable hand on my hip.
"Go to hell." I turned and stormed out of the bar and didn't slow down until I was in the elevator on my way up to the apartment.
I had no idea what I was going to tell Joanne. No matter how many different ways I replayed the scenario in my head, I knew that it was my fault.
I had been the one to fuck up and I was the one that needed to take responsibility for what had happened.
I wasn't sure if it was the tequila, the elevator, or my nerves, but I felt like I was about to puke by the time the elevator stopped on my floor.
Taking a shaky step out of the elevator I ran my fingers through my hair and took a deep breath. With a huff I pushed the door open and walked inside as confidently as I could, being half drunk. I was ready for a fight.
Joanne was curled up on the couch, sleeping sweetly. All of the anger that I had been feeling towards her over the past few weeks melted into a pool of guilt in the pit of my stomach and started to tango with the tequila.
I felt like such a bitch.
Tears started to well up in my eyes as bile started to rise in my throat. Breathing suddenly became difficult. I barely made it to the bathroom before spilling everything in my stomach, which was only four shots of tequila, into the toilet.
"Maureen?" I heard from the bathroom doorway.
I ignored Joanne as I staggered to my feet and stumbled to the sink to brush my teeth. Once all of the traces of vomit were gone I turned and looked her in the eye.
"We need to talk." I said softly, brushing past her and walking into the livingroom. Sitting on the couch slowly I pulled my knees to my chest, waiting for Joanne to follow.
She curled up on the other side of the couch, her back against the armrest.
"Where were you?" She asked calmly. I was surprised. I had never seen her been so calm about me coming home late.
"Some bar. I don't really know. I went out for drinks with Becca after rehearsal." I said softly, closing my eyes.
"That little blonde girl in the show with you?" I opened my eyes a bit to look at her. She was watching me intently.
"Yeah, she wanted to try and cheer me up." She was trying so hard to stay calm and not accuse me of cheating.
"Cheer you up?" How could I think going out and drinking would have helped solve my problems with Joanne? All it did was make things work.
"She said it looked like I could use a drink and she asked why I was so sad." I uncurled my body enough to reach out and take her hand. Tears were evident in my voice.
Her eyes traveled from our joined hands up my arm to my face.
"What happened?" She whispered, her eyes pleading with mine. My eyes closed slowly. I couldn't bear to see the look on her face when I told her what had happened.
"We kissed." Her hand slid out of mine as she jumped to her feet.
"You kissed?" Her voice was shrill, so different from anything I'd ever heard from her mouth.
"Let me explain." I stood slowly, my head spinning. Joanne paced from the kitchen to the other side of the livingroom.
"Explain what? You went out with another girl and you kissed her. What else could you possibly have to explain?"
No matter what I would have said to her right then, she wouldn't have believed me. Throwing my hands up in the air I turned and stormed off to the bedroom.
"Fuck it." I mumbled under my breath.
"You are not going to just walk away from this, Maureen." That damn lawyer voice.
"I can walk away from this. And I can walk away from you just as easily." Everything went still for a second.
I didn't mean it. I didn't want to leave her. But I was breaking slowly.
I turned to see her leaning against the doorframe in the bedroom doorway, playing with the ring on her finger. It had become a nervous habit of hers.
"Maureen..." Her eyes met mine slowly.
"Damn it Joanne." I dropped onto the bed and pulled my knees to my chest. Joanne didn't move.
"She kissed me." I said softly, forcing away my tears. I didn't want to cry in front of her.
"What's the difference?" Her voice was just as soft.
"There's a huge difference. We were just talking and then she leaned across the bar and kissed me. I wasn't sitting there begging for her to kiss me. As soon as she kissed me I pushed her off of me and reminded her that I had a girlfriend, a fiancé. I didn't kiss her back."
I hated that Joanne could make me feel like a child with a simple look. I met her gaze slowly, looking up at her like a little girl about to be scolded.
"Why did you go out with her in the first place? Why didn't you come talk to me?" She took a tentative step into the room. Her eyes locked with mine with a confused gaze.
"Because every time we talk we end up getting in a fight. I'm tired of fighting with you." She took another step closer to me.
"You can't blame all of this on me." Joanne was getting defensive, which inevitably meant that a screaming match was going to start any second.
"I'm not blaming anything on you." My voice was calm and soft, shocking both of us.
"Are you really going to leave?" She sounded so vulnerable and sad. With a deep sigh I shook my head.
"No, I'm not." I said simply.
"I don't want you to leave." She sat on the edge of the bed and put a gentle hand on my leg.
"I don't want to leave." I sat up slowly, my hair hanging down in my face.
"I don't ever want to be without you." With a soft sigh she brushed my hair back out of my face.
"You won't be." I hated that I felt like I was lying to her.
"I'm tired." She whispered, rubbing her eyes.
"Go ahead to bed, I need to take a shower." She nodded and crawled under the covers.
I kissed her forehead and then slipped away into the bathroom. I shut the door and locked it before turning the water on. I stared at my reflection in the mirror.
My eyes were bloodshot, my face bright red and my hair was a mess of brown curls that looked as though they were trying to attack my face.
I blamed it on the alcohol, but I knew deep down that it was much more than that.
Stepping into the shower I gasped as the hot water hit my skin. I held my breath as I washed my hair, hoping to wash out the smell of cigarette smoke.
I stood in the shower for almost an hour, letting the water wash over with me. Turning the water off I shook my head, my wet hair whipping my face gently.
As I stepped out of the shower I grabbed a towel and wrapped it tightly around my body. After pulling my hair back out of my face I pulled on a pair of sweat pants and a long sleeved shirt and then headed back to the bedroom.
Joanne looked so peaceful sleeping there. I slid into bed and curled up with my back to her, hoping that she was already asleep so that I could think for a little bit.
"Honeybear." I felt a hand on my hip.
"Hmm?" I bit my bottom lip.
"Are you still my baby?" I sighed, turning to face her.
"Of course I am." A small smile graced her full lips.
"I will always be your baby." She nudged my nose with hers before kissing me softly.
"I love you." She whispered, already falling asleep.
"You too, baby." I said, wrapping an arm around her waist. She seemed so content, sleeping there in my arms.
I didn't know that she was as unhappy as I was. I didn't know that she had the same fears that I had.
Maybe if we had talked about it then, maybe if we had really talked to each other instead of ignoring our problems they wouldn't have exploded the way they were bound to.
It was only a matter of time.