Disclaimer: I don't own ER. Now for the real angst! Reviews please.
Not easy. Difficult.
But they made it work. Home was Baton Rouge, too many memories in Chicago, too much pain.
To begin with Jacey's was home. As they mended, repaired, rebuilt and moved on. Their new beginning together. Her support, her care.
Three months later they moved out, got their own place, a home for their family. A home of their own. Just them.
Frustrated words. Apologies. Making up.
Angry words said in haste. Apologies. Repairing. Making up.
Angry words. Apologies. Rebuilding. Repairing. Making up.
Arguments. Bitter reprisals. Sleeping on it. Half hearted apologies. Patching up the cracks. Repairing. Making up.
Fights. Arguments. Bitter reprisals. Accusations thrown. Cruel, cruel words. No apologies. No rebuilding. No repairing. No making up.
Bags packed. Music, guitars removed. Moving back to his childhood home.
Sleeping alone again.
No going back. It's for the best.
Internet searches. Custody. Weekend father. Words that sound foreign, but are now true.
So many arguments, so many cruel words. Tears. Pain inflicted on both sides.
Returning home one day to find him gone. Bags packed. Music and guitars taken.
A letter remaining. It's for the best, it said.
The valves tightening around her heart. Lungs deflating. Gasping for reasoning, for understanding.
Sinking to the floor. Arms, hands wrapping around, knees pulling up, trying to protect. Emotional pain this time, not physical.
Tears falling, never drying.
Hoping that the door would open and he would return.
The door remaining shut.
Eventually crawling into bed. Holding his pillow close. Breathing in his smell.
Hoping it was all a bad dream, knowing it wasn't.
Sleeping alone again.