A Path Well Traveled
Chapter 12
A/N: Thank you all for your lovely feedback on this story! I really appreciate your comments and your constructive criticism. There is one thing I'd like to ask, though. If you ask for clarification on something or have issues with the story in general or certain points within it, it would be really nice if you aired those while being signed in in order to give me a chance to respond. I'd be more than happy to explain why I did what I did, but I can't if there is no one to address. Thanks!
Jack's presence also made many things easier. He helped with school runs and driving the kids back and forth between ballet classes, baseball practice, school, and home. He went grocery shopping when Sharon had to work late, cooked dinner, and helped out with whatever chores needed to be done. Sharon had to learn to let some things go, to be grateful for his help, even if he never quite managed to fold the sheets right and his idea of cleaning the bathroom left something to be desired. He tried his best, and that was all she asked.
The children were faster to adjust to him, enjoying the attention he gave them and the deliciously unhealthy things he cooked when their mother was not paying attention. Emily was elated to have her daddy back, to snuggle into his side to watch TV after her homework was done or to let him read to her at night. She had always believed that he would come home, and he had not disappointed her. For that alone, he had her forgiveness, all those nights when she had gone to sleep without his deep, rumbling voice reading her favorite book to her were forgotten.
Ricky took a little longer to get used to him, having very few memories of Jack being there for him. When her boy found out that Jack loved baseball, his reservations evaporated. They spent every free moment outside in the small garden throwing balls and tumbling around in the grass. It was something that Sharon had done with her son whenever there had been time, but when she watched them, she realized how much Jack could give both his children that she had struggled to provide.
Slowly, Jack regained his professional footing as well, switching from the small firm to a bigger one with more important cases and a better salary. It felt good to once again talk about their cases as far as they could get away with legally. They both enjoyed having a sounding board occasionally, someone who had an understanding of the other's job and the legal issues involved.
They gave each other a couple of weeks after he moved back in before they finally sat down and talked about the time they had been apart. Jack was just as reluctant to listen to her talk about Andy as she was to hear about the affairs he'd had while he was away. He listened to her, however, as she laid out the damage he had done and the way he had hurt her. She spoke of the uncertainty and fear she had felt when she realized that he'd taken all their money and how she had struggled to make it from one paycheck to the next. She was still paying her parents back for the money they had lent her, even though they did not expect her to return it. It pained him to listen to her explain how another man had been there when the nights had been too lonely, when the need for another person's touch and the longing to forget for a little while became too much to bear.
Forgiveness was a process that took work and time, but they had decided to leave the past where it belonged and move on together. She was relieved when Jack returned one night with a clean bill of health from his doctor, taking them one step closer to healing.
Despite her determination to put their past behind them, Sharon was unable to forget what he had done to them. While she was ready to trust Jack with her heart again, she had explained to him why she was not prepared to allow him access to her finances just yet. The legal separation she had filed for after his last jump off the wagon was providing a certain kind of protection for her and the children that she would not let go of for a while. It made sure that Jack would not be able to mortgage the house any further, and that he did not have access to her and the kids' money. Even though he did not protest, she knew that Jack did not like the arrangement, but he realized that she was not going to compromise on that. They agreed to set up a joint account to cover their family expenses and to otherwise keep their assets separate.
It was not the way Sharon had imagined their marriage to be. She had grown up in a house where there had been no separation between her mother's and her father's things, and that was the way she and Jack had started out as well. It did not feel right to lock him out of a part of their lives or to keep such a close eye on their finances, always looking for something suspicious. The sad fact was, however, that he was an addict, and that she would never be able to completely trust him again. Not when that could mean not being able to feed her children or losing the roof over their heads. She had come frighteningly close to that point once, and she would never risk going there again.
Over the following year and a half, they worked hard on their relationship, and it seemed to pay off. For the first time in years they managed to recover the love and closeness they had known when they had gotten married. She had questioned her choice of husband frequently over the course of their marriage, but she finally felt that it was all working out the way it was supposed to. They supported one another wherever they could, taking care of their children and finding joy in doing the most mundane things together. The loneliness she had felt when he was gone, despite occasionally leaning on another man, had dissipated. She once again had a true partner, someone who stood by her when things got tough and celebrated the minor and major victories with her.
When the Rampart investigation started up the following year, Jack was there to make sure things at home kept running smoothly while she worked insane hours. He juggled his own job and the kids' schedules, taking home whatever work he was unable to finish at the office to make sure the children were taken care of and to limit the time they had to spend with the babysitter. Even at fifteen and twelve, they did not feel good about leaving Emily and Ricky unsupervised, especially considering that Sharon played a not inconsiderable part in going after a number of corrupt cops.
If Sharon had been less busy, had taken more time for her family, she might have noticed it before it was too late. She knew, on a logical level, that it would have happened at some point, no matter what she had done. Jack was an addict who had a tendency towards carelessness. He worked his program diligently for a while, but he tended to get cocky. It had happened before when he had felt safe in his sobriety and let things slide. That was always when he fell off the wagon.
There was a small part of her that insisted that she was at least partly to blame. It was the familiar guilt born out of years and years of listening to her parents and other mothers telling her how she should be at home, taking care of her family instead of working so much. It was the guilt that was every working mother's companion. She could not help but wonder whether she would have been able to keep her family together, if only she had seen it coming.
In the end it all came down to Jack being an addict. He managed to keep all the balls in the air for a few months, insisting that he had things under control at home and that Sharon should not worry about anything. He was proud of her, because her dedication had gotten the attention of her boss, putting her in line for a promotion. It was hard to keep up his grueling schedule of work, kids, meetings, more work, and chores for weeks on end. Something had to give, and it ended up being his weekly meetings. He did not think that he needed them, anyway. There was so much for him to do that thoughts of a drink or gambling were fleeting at most. He was convinced that he could control it.
It started with a quick after work drink with his colleagues to celebrate one of the senior partners' birthdays. Jack had two hours before he had to pick up the children from their after-school programs, and the thought of one small glass of wine sounded great. The tension of the past couple of months was intense, and a little drink to relax was exactly what he needed.
One glass that night turned into another a few days later and then half a bottle by the end of the week. More and more often, he found an hour or two here and there to stop by one of his favorite bars, never to get seriously drunk. Just enough for the pressure to ease a little bit, to reconnect with friends he had not seen in so long. He thought he was doing well, finally managing to live like a normal person again, to enjoy a glass or two without getting dragged down into the dark abyss once more.
When Sharon announced one day that she was going to be home early and would be able to pick up the kids, he told her that he would take the chance to work on a few things that had been left unattended for too long. It only took a little nudging from one of his co-workers to get him to abandon his files and join the others for drinks instead. With nothing to drag him away from his barstool at a set time, early evening turned into night before he finally stumbled out of the cab and into their house.
When he made his way towards the living room, taking great care to be quiet, he realized that one of the small lamps beside the sofa was still on. He smiled, thinking that his wife had left it on for him before she went to bed. He entered the room to crash on the sofa until he could come up with the energy to brave the stairs, thinking that he should probably stop by the kitchen on his way to get a bottle of water. He was just getting ready to navigate the narrow space between couch and coffee table when movement in the armchair on the other side of the sitting area startled him. Squinting into the dimly lit part of the room, he saw Sharon slowly uncurling her legs from where she had obviously been sleeping. A soft fleece blanket was wrapped around her shoulders and she was hugging one of the fancy pillows she loved so much. Her bleary eyed gaze landed on him and turned into a frown once she processed what she was seeing. When she pressed her lips together into a thin line, he knew that he was in trouble.
Sharon had been relieved when her boss had insisted that they all call it a day in the early afternoon. For weeks, they had pulled long hours, and there was no end in sight. She was grateful for the extra money, as it would take care of a few things that would be needed over the summer. Her car needed new tires and a full inspection, the children had grown out of their clothes again, and she was still hoping that they might be able to get away for a week or so for a small family vacation. The work she was doing with the team that led the Rampart investigation was challenging, and what they uncovered made her question some of the things about the LAPD that she had never had any doubt about before. It also gave her a unique opportunity to prove to her superiors that she was more than capable of taking charge. Her captain had already hinted at a possible promotion in the near future, but he refused to give her any details on how that would work out, since the next step up for her would be captain as well, and he was not even close to being old enough for retirement.
Despite all of that, she was happy about every night that she got home at a time when she would be able to see her children awake and spend some quality time with her family. It did not happen nearly often enough. She also felt guilty for letting Jack shoulder so much responsibility on his own. To be fair, he had some catching up to do in that department, but she still hated not doing her part. He had a job as well, and still so much to prove if he ever intended to become a partner. While he reassured her time and again that he had the full support of everyone at work, she still worried.
That was one reason why she had jumped at the chance of getting home early for once. She had expected Jack to put in a few more hours in the office, but had thought he would make it home for dinner. She had prepared a small snack for her and the kids when they got home so that they could have a late dinner, in case Jack would arrive later than they normally ate dinner. It was Friday, so Ricky and Emily were allowed to stay up a little longer, anyway. When he had not been home at eight o'clock and the children started complaining, she had heated up the stew she had made earlier, and they had eaten without him.
Later, after their evening movie was over and the kids were in bed, she had called his office, starting to worry about him, as it was not his habit to stay past eight or nine unless it was an emergency, and he always informed her that he would be late. When no one answered the phone, she had settled in her favorite armchair with a blanket and a book to wait for him, convinced that he was on his way. At some point, hours later, she had put away her book and switched off the reading lamp next to her chair. Grabbing one of the pillows off the sofa, she had curled into the chair, making sure the phone was near by before she closed her eyes for a moment.
She must have dozed off. When movement in the room startled her awake, she had no idea how much time had passed, but she knew right away that something was off. It took her a moment to clear her blurred vision and shake off the slight disorientation from not waking up in bed. Taking a closer look at Jack, she felt her stomach drop unpleasantly as she realized he was drunk. The smell of cold smoke and stale alcohol was strong enough to reach her, and the way he carefully seated himself on the large leather sofa gave away just how inebriated he really was.
For a few seconds, she did not know what to do or say. So many conflicting feelings went through her at once, they made her head spin. She felt the skin in her cheeks flush, prickling with the blood that rushed to her head on a wave of anger. Her fingers were suddenly ice cold and slightly numb, the pillow slipping out of her grasp and landing on the floor as she rose to her feet.
Her first impulse was to pack him a bag of clothes and send him away. She had sworn to herself that she would not do this anymore, that she would not let her husband tear their family apart with his addictions again. When she looked at him where he sat on the sofa, his face buried in his hands and his shoulders hunched, she paused, though. Yes, she was livid, but she also felt sorry for him, and she could not help but wonder if she had contributed to this situation by not being around enough.
Closing her eyes for a moment, she took a deep breath and released it very slowly, attempting to control the anger that was still bubbling beneath the surface. Once she felt like she had a better grip on herself, she walked around the coffee table and sat down on the couch next to him, her hands clasped in front of her as she braced her forearms on her thighs and leaned forward to take a better look at him.
"What happened?" she asked, trying hard to keep her voice neutral. In the past, they had fought many ugly fights over his drinking, and she did not intend to repeat that. She was exhausted, and she was tired of having the same old argument with him. It had never gotten them anywhere.
Jack sighed, slowly raising his head to meet her eyes, his face a mask of regret. "I messed up," he admitted in a defeated tone. "I thought I could handle it, but I couldn't." He shrugged, slumping against the back of the couch and giving her a pleading look.
Sharon swallowed the sarcastic remark that was on the tip of her tongue. Instead, she followed his lead and leaned back as well, fixing him with an unwavering gaze. "Talk to me, Jack. Please," she implored. She needed to understand his actions, what had made him fall off the wagon. If it was something that could be fixed, they would do it.
Reluctantly, Jack began to talk about the pressure of doing his job while taking care of the kids as well as he was able to. It was easier now that he'd had over a year to get used to it, but it still took more effort than it did for Sharon. He told her how he wanted so badly to have her back and make sure she did not have anything to worry about. He wanted to make her proud, but instead, he had ruined everything. He stressed that it was not her fault, that he should have taken better care of himself. He had told her to concentrate on work, that he would take care of the rest, and he wanted her to trust him. He would not allow her to blame herself for doing exactly that. Jack confessed that it had not only been that one night, that he had found a few spare hours here and there to relax with his friends, and that he had felt like he was finally able to do that without risking losing his footing. "I thought that I could finally move on and leave this whole addiction business behind me for good, but I guess I was wrong."
"You know that's not the way it works," she replied kindly, wishing that she were able to tell him that the struggle would be over one day. "If you really want to get better, you can't go back. You know that."
There were tears in his eyes when he looked up at her again, his voice small and uncertain. "Are you going to throw me out?"
Closing her eyes briefly, Sharon shook her head. "No, I won't throw you out. Not if you are serious about being sober."
When he nodded eagerly, she held up a hand, making him swallow the instant reply he wanted to give.
"I need you to really be sure about this, Jack. If this is going to work, I need to be able to trust that you'll talk to me if you're in trouble. You have no idea how much I appreciate all you've done over the last few months, but I wish you had told me that you were struggling. We could have found a way to deal with it. I don't want you to feel like you have to pretend with me."
She reached out to take one of his hands between both of hers, squeezing gently to get him to look at her.
"We are partners, Jack. We promised each other to face the good and the bad together. Let me help you. I know that we can do this as long as we do it together."
Jack pulled her into a tight hug, burying his face in her soft hair, inhaling the familiar scent of her shampoo. She felt solid against him, strong, and warm, and safe, and he clung to her for a long moment.
"I don't know what I did to deserve you," he finally murmured into her neck, "but I'm one hell of a lucky bastard to have you on my side."
For a few precious minutes, while they held onto one another, he almost believed that he would be able to do it, that he would manage to be the man she needed him to be. For a little while, her presence chased away the fear that he would eventually screw up and disappoint her, and he felt confident that, together, they would win this fight.
Sharon was determined to help her husband in any way she possibly could. She made sure to be home early on his regular meeting nights so that he did not have to worry about the children. She tried to set aside at least half an hour each evening to give Jack her full attention. Once the kids were in bed, they would sit together and talk, just the two of them without any distractions. It was something that had fallen by the wayside with their busy work schedules, housework, and taking care of Ricky and Emily. Whenever she had the feeling that he had something on his mind, she gently poked and prodded until he opened up to her. When he was having a particularly bad time, she tried to accompany him to his meetings as moral support.
She thought that they were doing well, even though she was beginning to feel the added load she was shouldering in order to give her husband some breathing room. She regularly took work home with her to catch up on the things she was unable to finish at the office, in order to make school runs and take the kids to ballet class and baseball practice. It was what she had done when Jack was gone, and she quickly fell back into that familiar routine. They still shared their responsibilities, but Sharon made sure that she took over a larger part of them.
Jack began to work more regular hours again, often dropping the children off at school in the morning and staying at work till early evening. He joined one of his colleagues at the gym most nights to blow off some steam before he returned home, and for a while it seemed as if he had regained his footing.
It was early December when Sharon noticed subtle changes in his behavior. He seemed moody and evasive, skipping more and more of their evening talks, and picking fights over inconsequential things. She tried to talk to him, and when he brushed her off, she became more insistent, only to be told that nothing was wrong. She snuck into the bathroom after he had changed at night, digging his discarded clothes out of the hamper to sniff them, relieved when they did not smell of alcohol or smoke.
When he continued to act strangely, she made discreet inquiries with his colleagues to find out if he actually even still went to work at all. She hated herself for her lack of trust in him, but experience had taught her to be cautious, and she believed that she was acting in his best interest, too, even if it made her feel horrible. No one was able to tell her anything that would explain his strange behavior, and she resolved to give him time to come to her when he was ready to talk.
There was another thing they would have to discuss, but she was loath to do that while Jack was in such a strange state of mind. When she had missed her last period, she had at first suspected that it was due to stress or maybe even the beginning of menopause. She was on the pill, not to mention a little beyond the age where pregnancy was the first thing on her mind when she was late. She had not been concerned. That was, until she had woken up feeling sick a few days earlier, and she had taken a good, long look at herself once her stomach had calmed down. The signs were there, and as much as she wanted to deny the possibility, Sharon was certain that she was pregnant.
She had never felt as silly as when the salesgirl at the pharmacy gave her a strange look as she put the home pregnancy test kit on the counter. She felt as if everyone around her was staring at her as she paid for her purchase and quickly slipped it into her purse to hide it from curious glances, all while scolding herself for caring what random strangers might think of her.
The result of the test only confirmed what she had already known, and she made sure to dispose of it in a way that Jack would not accidentally find it. She wanted him to hear it from her, not have him find out by seeing the used test strip in the garbage. There was no telling how he would react to the unexpected news, even without taking into account his recent mood. Sharon feared that the prospect of raising another child would push him over the edge again.
To say that she was excited to have another baby at this point in her life would have been a lie. Ricky and Emily were finally old enough that they did not need constant supervision anymore. She still preferred for someone to be home when they got back from school and to not leave them alone at night, but it was a lot easier to make all the aspects of her life fit together. She no longer felt absolutely horrible for pursuing her career, and she was getting to a point where it was really beginning to take off. Even with Jack's full support, a baby would mean that she would have to cut back on her hours significantly. Her boss might like her and the work she did, but she could not expect him to hold off on whatever he had in mind for her until it was convenient for her. There were plenty of highly qualified and ambitious people in her division who would jump at the chance of a promotion.
Despite all the complications this unplanned pregnancy brought, both personally and professionally, Sharon would not seriously consider terminating it, although the thought had briefly crossed her mind as the test result had confirmed her suspicion. When the initial panic had set in, her first thought had been that she could not possibly have another child, but in the end, that was not a decision she would be able to live with.
Sharon thought about the best way to approach Jack with the unexpected news, wondering if she should tell him right away, no matter how distant and short-tempered he was or if she should wait a little longer. Given her age, there was still a very strong possibility that something would go wrong, so she decided to wait. She had made a doctor's appointment for right after New Year's Day and would reevaluate once she had a better idea what they were facing.
When the holidays were over, Sharon felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders. It had been an incredibly exhausting week full of tension and forced cheerfulness. She had not wanted to ruin the festive time for her children, and she was glad that Jack had pulled himself together as well. They had both taken the week off to spend time together and to drive down to San Diego for a few days to see Jack's parents. He was restless and irritable, hiding it behind a mask of over-the-top joviality that made her cringe.
For her part, Sharon felt miserable most of the time, eating little and trying hard to hide her frequent bathroom visits. She had the feeling that her mother in law suspected something, but the older woman never said anything, for which Sharon was grateful. She barely had enough energy to get through the days that were filled with Jack's entire, large family. The last thing she needed was facing an inquisition by her opinionated mother in law.
When they arrived back home on the first day of January, Jack had barely tossed their bags onto the bed before he was out the door again, claiming that he needed to go to the gym to work off all the food they'd had over the past week. The children were happy to retreat to their respective rooms after four days of camping out in their grandparents' living room with all of their cousins. That left Sharon, who was barely able to drag her tired body upstairs and push the duffle bags Jack had dropped on the bed to the floor, before she sank into the soft mattress. She curled one arm around Jack's pillow, hugging it to her body while her other hand splayed across her abdomen, feeling for any sign of the small being that was growing inside. She knew that there would not be anything for her to detect just yet, but it was enough to know that someone was there with her.
She was not alone. As soon as that thought went through her mind, the tears started flowing. It was a silly notion to think that, in a house full of people, she was alone, but the loneliness she felt was real. It had been there before the holidays, when Jack had dismissed her concerns and her longing to be close to him once again. It had been even stronger when she was among his family, connected to the group by a link that was weakening with every passing day. She felt it weigh her down until she thought she would drown every time she discovered one of the many small changes her body went through. She wanted to share them with her husband the way she had the first two times. She longed for his relaxing head massages when the fatigue and nausea were about to do her in. Instead, she struggled to keep all that to herself. She made do without someone to bring her crackers and water first thing in the morning, someone who would hold her when being sick had exhausted her to the point that she was left sitting on the bathroom floor for endless minutes to regain her strength. Most of all, she missed having a partner who noticed that all this was going on right under his nose.
That was what hurt most. He had not even really looked at her in weeks. Not since that time when they had ended a particularly nasty fight with a round of angry sex against the bathroom door. He used to notice when her shoulders were a little tense from being hunched over her desk too long. Now, he was completely oblivious to her frequent bouts of nausea, to her switch from coffee to tea in the morning, or the way she had taken to struggling out from underneath the comforter at night. Jack might be physically present, but he was not really there anymore, and that was a situation she would have to address sooner rather than later.
Their confrontation came a week after her doctor's appointment, but it was not at all what she had anticipated. Her doctor had indeed confirmed that she was pregnant, putting her at approximately eight weeks. Sharon had intended to talk to Jack right away, but their work schedules had given them very little time for an undisturbed conversations. Then she had gotten a call from her doctor's office that morning, asking her to drop by again as soon as she could arrange.
When she came home after that visit, telling Jack about her pregnancy was the last thing on her mind. She had barely managed to conceal her anger long enough to suggest to Ricky and Emily that they should stay with friends that night, and she was glad that they had readily agreed. Sharon did not want them to be present for the discussion that was going to happen.
It was close to midnight when Jack finally came home, and Sharon tried very hard not to imagine where he might have been. Certainly not at the gym as he claimed. Her initial rage had cooled down a little while she waited, but the moment Jack stepped through the door, it was right back where it had started. The way he walked, his steps heavy on the hardwood floor, spoke of several shots of whiskey, and when he stepped into the living room, the smell of cigarette smoke and cheap alcohol preceded him, making her stomach turn unpleasantly.
"Honey, you're still up," he said in a cheerful tone, his voice too loud as he rounded the sofa with his arms open wide, clearly intending to embrace her. He seemed completely oblivious to the fact that she was mad at him, and that ticked her off even more.
When he stood in front of her, taking hold of her upper arms, his face moving towards hers, she turned her head in disgust and shrugged out of his grasp, taking a couple of steps away from him.
"Why don't we go to bed, hm?" He ogled her breasts that were straining against the fabric of the t-shirt that was getting a little too tight, and his tone of voice left little doubt about what it was he had in mind. For a frightening moment, she thought that she might be sick right there on the new, beige rug.
"No, Jack, we are not going to go to bed. You will not be sleeping in our bed at all tonight," she informed him, her voice ice cold. "What you will do, however, is explain this to me."
Sharon reached down to pick up a piece of paper from the coffee table, handing it to Jack before she crossed her arms and stared at him while he tried to make sense of the information on the sheet. It was the test results she had been given by her doctor earlier, the ones that said that she had tested positive for Chlamydia.
Her cheeks still tingled as she recalled the embarrassment she had felt upon listening to her solemn doctor talk her through the results and the proposed treatment plan. She was unable to imagine anything more mortifying than being questioned about the number of partners she'd had since her last test and being told how important it was to be honest about that. Sharon trusted the older woman, had been in her care for many years, but to have to justify her behavior to her was a horrible feeling.
There really was nothing for her to be ashamed of, since she had only been intimate with two men all her life, and she knew for a fact that Andy had not given her any STDs. Before she had allowed Jack back into her bed, she had been tested, not because she suspected that Andy had been careless, but because she thought it was only fair if she expected Jack to do the same.
That only left one explanation, and it was no less embarrassing. Her husband had cheated on her, and thanks to his carelessness, she had been forced to discuss that with her doctor. It was not the first time he had done this to her, but for some reason she had been sure that their relationship was solid this time, that he was making a real effort to be honest and faithful. Despite the rough patch they had hit recently, she had firmly believed that they would make it, that things would get better again.
Jack looked up from the paper and sneered at her. "So, who says this is my fault? Maybe you've been seeing Flynn again. God knows you've been away from home enough to fit in a few quickies here and there. You let him fuck you on your desk? Or is the supply closet more your thing?"
She could not breathe. The sound of her pounding heart was loud in her ears, and she was lost for words for a long moment, simply staring at him. When she finally found her voice again, it was impossibly deep, wavering slightly with anger and pain. "What did you just say?" she gasped, shaking her head as if to clear it. "You have the nerve to come in here, reeking of alcohol, clearly drunk when you promised not to drink anymore, and you are accusing me of being unfaithful? Let me remind you that you were the one who left me again and again. You were the one who got drunk and slept around for years before that. You were the one who gambled away everything we had and almost put your own children out on the street. How dare you!"
A few tears had spilled over her lashes, and Sharon brushed them away angrily before she went on. "When you came back two years ago, I made a commitment to you, and I have not broken it. I've loved you, Jack. Every single day since you came back I have loved you with everything that I have. I went against my better judgment and gave you another chance, and even when you faltered, I was by your side, trying to help you, but I suppose it wasn't enough. I don't know what else to do. I really don't, and frankly, after this, I'm not sure I even want to try anymore."
She was crying now, the pain that was tearing into her heart too much to suppress. She resented letting him see how much he was hurting her, but there was no fighting it.
Jack seemed unmoved by her words. He simply stood there, looking at her from head to toe, his lips curled in disdain. "I hate to break it to you, honey, but you're not as great a help as you think. What was I supposed to do? The constant nagging about everything, the checking up on me all the time. And then you treat me like an invalid, taking over practically everything as if I can't handle doing the laundry. It's hard enough to live with your rules as it is, but lately, all that has kept me sane was getting a few drinks after work. I just can't stand the thought of coming home to this," he gestured at her and the room around them, indicating their life together, "without a little liquid courage."
If she thought that he could not possibly hurt her any more, she had been mistaken. It felt as if he had thrust a knife into her heart and was slowly twisting it, but it also stoked the anger she was feeling to a new height. "If you have been suffering so badly under my care, why didn't you say so? How many times over the last few weeks did I ask you what was bothering you? I asked you if there was something I could do to help, and it did not occur to you to tell me that I was causing you such distress? That I was pushing you towards your next drink? Don't you think I would have liked to know?"
All she wanted at that point was to get away from him, to be alone and deal with her heartache in peace. What was there to say at this point, anyway? Jack was too drunk to have a serious discussion about the future of their marriage, and arguing with him would accomplish nothing. "I am going to bed. You can sleep in the guest room and we'll talk more about this tomorrow when you are sober. Good night, Jack."
She got as far as the bottom of the stairs when he grabbed her arm from behind and turned her back towards him, his face red and spittle flying from his mouth when he spoke.
"Hey, you don't get to tell me where to sleep in my own house," he yelled. "You see, this is the problem. You always want to control everything. That's why I didn't say anything. Don't you get it? Nothing would have changed. You control how much work I do around the house, how often I get to pick up the kids from school, you tell me to go to my meetings and to call my sponsor, you monitor where I am all damn day long. Even if I had told you that it's driving me nuts, you wouldn't have done anything differently, because you don't know how to not be in control of every tiny thing. It drives you mad, and you know it."
He let go of her arm with a slight push, not caring that he made her stumble backwards a couple of steps, her back hitting the wall behind her. "I came home every night to all this, and I put up with it because I know that you can't help yourself, but what do I get for that? Nothing but a cold, tired bitch who can't even be bothered to make an effort to look nice anymore. You've got your precious rules stuck so far up your ass you don't even remember what it's like to be alive. Why does it surprise you that I found someone else to have fun with? Because lately, I've had a better time jerking off in the shower than fucking you. When was the last time you really let go? You can't remember, can you? Well, neither can I."
Once again rendered speechless, Sharon simply stared at him. She felt the blood drain from her face, and her hands felt cold and clammy. Bile rose in her throat, and she swallowed hard, trying to keep it down, taking several deep breaths until the nausea receded a little. For a split second, she thought about Andy, Jack's words transporting her back to the feeling of utter freedom she had experienced with him. Yes, Sharon remembered exactly when she had last let go of everything, but she banished those thoughts quickly, worried that they might show on her face, and unwilling to allow that precious memory to be tainted by bringing it into her current situation.
Sharon opened her mouth several times, only to close it again right away, still not able to respond. It did not matter, anyway. Jack would not listen, no matter what she threw at him. He was drunk and increasingly belligerent. All he wanted was to hurt her, and he was doing a great job at it. She was not even able to feel it anymore. She was feeling numb inside and incredibly tired all of a sudden. All she wanted to do was crawl into her bed and curl up under the covers. She had done her best to help him and failed, not just this once, but many times over the years. She had no energy left for this, and she did not see a point in trying anymore. Maybe she would see things differently in the morning, after a few hours of sleep, but for the moment she was done.
"Good night, Jack. You know where the sheets for the foldout are."
The lumpy old couch that occupied one wall in the room that served as both an office and a guest room was not particularly comfortable to sleep on, but it would only serve him right if he pulled a back muscle while doing so.
Sharon had taken two steps up the stars when Jack grabbed her from behind with both hands and pulled her back down, tossing her once again against the wall. She acted on pure instinct when she dodged him as he tried to pin her down, ducking below the clumsy swing he was taking at her and twisting his arm behind his back until he yelped in pain. She pushed him face first into the wall and held him in place until he stopped struggling. Speaking with a low, firm voice, she projected a coolness she did not feel.
"Don't you dare touch me like that, do you hear me?" When his only answer was a pained whimper, she continued. "You are going to leave this house the moment I let go of you, and you are not going to set foot in it again. I will have your things packed up and delivered to you, and if you don't stop drinking, I will make sure that you won't see your children ever again. Now get the hell out of here."
Stepping back from him, Sharon let go of his arm, placing her hands on her hips as she stared him down. For a moment after he had turned around to face her, she thought that Jack would try to push her. There was a dark glint in his eyes that frightened her, but she did not let him see it. She quickly calculated how long it would take her to get to the lockbox and take out her gun, figuring her odds were not too bad, considering his inebriated state. Then he visibly deflated and, giving her one last derisive look, he turned around and walked towards the door, his parting shot feeling like a slap in the face. "Great. I was getting tired of being trapped here, anyway. Now I can finally live my own life again."
She stood completely still, breathlessly waiting until the door slammed behind him. Drawing a ragged breath, she sank down on the stairs, her faced buried in her hands. A sob shook her slight frame as the events of the last half hour started to sink in. Once again, she was alone, left behind by the man who should love and cherish her, who had sworn before God and their families to do so to the end of his days. He had once again tossed her aside for alcohol, and cards, and cheap women. She thought that she should have gotten used to the pain by now, after all the years of him walking out, but it was still as acute as it had been the first time.
In the morning, Sharon would have to tell her children that their father had left them. She would have to make arrangements for his things to be sent to his office. She would have to call her lawyer and make sure their recent reconciliation did not have an impact on their legal separation, and she would have to figure out what changes she needed to make to her and her children's schedules to work around Jack's absence.
For a few more hours, however, she would allow herself to grieve for the end of a marriage she had believed to have returned to solid ground. She would shed tears for the man she had known many years ago, the young, energetic, loving boy she had fallen in love with, the one she had briefly met again two years ago, before his addictions had taken him away from her once more. She would feel the pain, and then she would put it away once and for all. She would get up in the morning and start putting her life back together the way she had done so many times before. She might not have a partner anymore, but she had Ricky and Emily, and maybe, in a few months, there would be another one. Life would go on without Jack Raydor, of that she was certain.
~TBC~