I awoke feeling more refreshed than I had in a long time, but my spirits sank when I remembered how my husband had left the night before last. There was no sign that he had been home since. Why hadn't he at least returned to retrieve some of his things? Had something happened to him?
I pondered the situation over breakfast. I worried about Jake. I also found that I badly wanted a sense of closure. I wanted to what was next for our relationship, whatever was left of it. Jake had left me for a second time, and I wasn't sure if he would come back again, or if I would even let him back into my life if he did return. We'd had it out, but it left me with more questions about our future than I'd had when I was desperately clinging to our marriage, trying to make it work out through my own best efforts.
And then I had it. If he was willing to help me, Sherlock could find him. If something had happened to Jake, Sherlock would be able to help. I hurried through my morning routine and sped to 221B Baker Street. Once again, John seemed surprised that I showed up unbidden, but he smiled. "You look like you're finally caught up on sleep," he remarked.
"I am," and I smiled back. Then, "Where's Sherlock?"
"Over here!" came a shout, and I saw then that he was under his desk for some reason that was evidently important to him and completely unclear to me. I came over and knelt down next to him.
"Sherlock, I was wondering if you could help me," I began.
"I believe you are the one who is supposed to helping me," he retorted, but he stopped what he had been doing and looked at me. "Your need me to find your husband, don't you?"
How did he do that? Well, it didn't matter. "Yes. He left a couple of nights ago, and he hasn't even been back to collect his things. I need to find him and talk with him."
He nodded. "I'll take it. No charge, Trina. But... do you really think this is the right thing to do?"
It was the kindest thing Sherlock had ever said to me. I nodded. "Yes. I know what I'm doing."
"Good," he replied. "Now I'm busy at the moment, so I'll put my best man on this job. John!"
Oh, no. I thought. Somehow it felt terribly wrong to have John searching for my husband. But Sherlock pressed on. "John, have Trina take you to the pub her husband usually frequents. Start inquiries there. Someone's bound to know something." He turned back to me. "You see, Trina, this will be terribly easy. Boring, frankly. Even John will find your husband easily before the morning is out." And he went back to his strange exercise under the desk.
###
He was right. It was all too easy. I had been looking away from obvious solutions, hoping that the reason Jake hadn't come home to collect his things was because he couldn't for some reason. When I admitted the truth to myself, I knew I was hoping that, if he were abducted or hurt or needed help, he would be grateful to me for not just letting him go, and we'd still have a future together. Instead, John and I hopped into my car and drove to my husband's favorite pub.
"I don't know what to say, Trina," John said. "Why are you still trying?"
"John, it's not like that," I said, knowing that I was, in fact, holding on to some hope, but also wanting John to know that I wasn't going to let my husband treat me poorly any longer. "I need to talk to him, because I need some closure. I can't keep wondering if or when he's coming back home."
"And if he says that he might come back?"
"John, I promise, I'm not going to take him back unless he wants to put some effort into our marriage."
"I'm glad," he said, and he smiled at me.
When we arrived at the pub, I didn't recognize anyone. I had met a few of his pub friends when they had come home with him or when I'd tried to join him at the pub (only to be shrugged off with indifference). I was too shy to ask strangers about Jake, so John and I had an early lunch there, killing time. Eventually someone I recognized came in, so I screwed up my courage and asked him if he'd seen Jake lately. He hadn't.
I retreated back to the table I was sharing with John. "You know, that's the first time I've heard you say your husband's name," he mused. I was surprised to realize that he was right. It was as if I were keeping these two men I felt attracted to apart.
Jake's friend was joined by another, and before I could even get up out of my seat to approach the newcomer, his crony said something and gestured in my direction. They both walked over to me. "I know where Jake is," said the second friend. Tom. His name is Tom, I remembered. "He moved in with Liz Davies the night before last."
"Can you give me her address?" I asked.
He couldn't, but her flat was nearby, and he could give me directions based on street names and landmarks – enough that I felt confident I could find it.
As we left the pub to set out on foot, John said, "You know, Trina, Sherlock was right. This has been easy. Why did you ask him for help instead of trying to find your husband on your own?"
I was going to have to 'fess up. "I meant what I said about not taking Jake back unless he was willing to make some changes," I began, trying hard to win John's approval before I disappointed him. "But I was sort of holding out hope…."
"For your relationship? What does that have to do with getting Sherlock to help you?"
"Since he hadn't picked up any of his stuff, I thought maybe something had happened to him, and maybe that was why he hadn't come back. If something serious had happened to him, I might Sherlock's help. Of course it would have made more sense for me to look on my own first, but this way, I could hold onto my fantasy for just a little while."
John looked at the ground, his mouth a tight line, but he said nothing.
We arrived at the flat in silence, and I rang the bell. I was surprised at the woman who answered. She was no one special. I would have felt better if she had been gorgeous, but she was no more attractive than I was. I swallowed my pride and asked for Jake. She walked away without a word, leaving the door open.
Jake came, and I felt tears well up in my eyes as I realized I might be ending things right here and now. He was wearing ill-fitting clothes that I'd never seen before, something he must have borrowed to get him by until he got around to picking up his stuff from our house.
"Why did you come here, Trina?" His voice was softer than it usually was, almost as if fate was conspiring to make this as hard on me as possible.
What was I going to say? I hadn't really thought of how to begin. "I… I'm not happy with where we left things the other night."
"Well? What did you expect?"
That was more like the Jake I'd known for the past couple of years. Now things would get easier. I felt John's silent presence behind me. Although I knew he'd been disappointed in the way I was clinging to Jake, I also knew that he was still my friend, and that made me feel safer.
"I need some closure, Jake. What are your plans?"
"I really don't have any, Trina. Why? Do you want to know if or when I'm coming back? I don't know myself. I might go home tomorrow to stay for a while, or I might decide to get my stuff and stay here. I haven't decided yet."
"That's the problem," I said. "You're stringing me along, and I won't accept that any longer. I still love you, but I can't allow you to continue to treat me my like I'm nothing to you. You can come back now, if you're willing to work on our marriage together. Otherwise,…" I faltered, but again I thought of John behind me and went on, "otherwise, I don't want you back at all. You can't just waltz in and out of our marriage as you please."
Once again, I was treated to a flicker of surprise running across Jake's face, before he hardened it into a cold mask.
"I'm happy with the way things are, Trina. I don't want to change. I told you before, and I meant it: I don't love you anymore. I see no reason to work on our marriage."
"So, I guess this is it," I said, my voice choking as the tears rose to my eyes.
"I guess this is," he said and closed the door.
###
I don't remember much of our walk back to my car, but John had his arm around me, and I cried the whole way. I think he said something about being proud of me for standing up for myself, something about how everything would be alright, but I really don't remember much of what he said. I couldn't believe what had just happened. I'd given Jake an ultimatum and now my marriage, which I'd tried so hard to save, was over. Somehow, I found myself in the passenger seat with John in the driver's seat, but he didn't start the car. He let me cry a while longer, then gently reached out and took one of my hands. It tingled at his touch.
"Trina," he said, "you were a good wife to Jake. You really tried to make your marriage work, and I admire you for that. I'm sorry that it had to end this way, but I truly believe you did the right thing by forcing him to make a choice to commit to your marriage or get out."
"Thank you," I sniffed.
"I know a solicitor who can draw up divorce papers for you," he continued. "He owes Sherlock a favor, so I think I can persuade him to help you at no charge." I stopped him there.
"You're right, John. I know you're right. My marriage is truly over. But I can't initiate a divorce yet. I'm sorry. I just can't."
He looked at me long and hard, and then sighed. "You've been married a while, I know, and I suppose it's hard for you to let go after all you've put into this. Just let me know when you're ready, and I'll take you to see the solicitor."
"I will," I promised.