Present day. Miami:
She watched him as he sat on the couch, wringing his hands together. He looked as if he were lost in his thoughts until her soft voice caught his attention.
"You were too much for me at times, John. I needed my own space."
He looked at her briefly and let out a small, humourless laugh. "I only wanted to keep you safe."
Feeling slightly bolder, she made her way over to the couch and sat next to him. "There's a difference between wanting to protect someone and smothering them." She reached out for his hand and squeezed it, relieved when he didn't immediately pull it away.
"I'd lost so many people close to me because I couldn't protect them. You were my wife…..it was my job to keep you safe." His blue eyes took on a deeper hue as she saw the depth of his sadness.
"It wasn't anyone's job to keep me safe. I just wanted you to love me."
"I did…I loved you so much."
She let out a deep sigh, no matter how delicately she put it; he would likely mistake the meaning of her words. "You were trying to control me, can't you see that?" He looked at her, genuinely confused and so she tried to explain herself again. "The way your father died…..it made you so desperate not to lose anyone else that you were blind to what you were doing. You can't protect people from every single eventuality…..life doesn't work like that."
"I know," he whispered as his head dropped. "I'm sorry."
They sat that way for an hour or more in contemplative silence as they digested the words they had spoken to each other over the last few hours. They'd remained side by side, joined by their hands as she ran her thumb over the damaged and scarred left hand of the man she had loved and lost back in New York.
She raised the hand to get a better look at the calloused surface and bent fingers, her movements caught his attention as he turned his head to look at her.
"They did this to you?" she asked quietly.
He nodded his head as he tried to gently disengage from the physical contact. "It was my choice, Lori…I would have done it all over again if it meant keeping you safe….keeping you all safe."
She could sense his willpower diminishing as they looked into each other's eyes; she leant closer to him as their foreheads touched. "You're a good man, John. I'm sorry it took me so long to realise what I had with you."
He closed his eyes; he could feel her warm breath on his face and felt the touch of her soft lips as they made contact with his. He wanted to lose himself in her, to feel her body writhe under his touch as he made her scream his name in ecstasy. The smell of her….the taste of her took him back to a time and a place when things seemed so much easier. He wanted so desperately to go back there….to stay there forever…..
It's a trick! His subconscious screamed at him as it hurled images of the beautiful woman waiting for him back at home, a woman he had promised to be faithful to. A woman he had promised his heart and his love to.
God, this was so hard. Was it possible to love and want two women at the same time?
In one last futile effort, his passion-clouded brain threw another long-forgotten memory from his past at him.
Flashback. New York 1993:
The flashbacks and nightmares had continued for months as he was haunted by the images that he had seen on that fateful day last year. Lieutenant Fancy had ordered him to attend counselling sessions with the Department's resident shrink; he'd attended them under duress, knowing that he'd be pulled from active duty if he didn't.
He paid little consideration to the clichéd phrases that the man had spouted at him, he just sat there and nodded his head, giving stock responses to the questions he was being asked. He had no desire to sit in front of some shrink who couldn't care less about him or the utter devastation he had witnessed that day. All the therapist had been concerned about was ticking a few boxes on a sheet so that he could sign his latest client off and make his way onto the next one. Police officers saw the worst that humanity had to offer every day, for every good deed there were a thousand more horrific scenes that they would be called to come across and investigate. There were simply too many officers who had seen too much evil in their lives for the understaffed and overworked Psych Services to be able to pay the required amount of attention to each case.
There were other officers out there who had witnessed things much worse than he had, he told himself, as he left his fourth and final session with the shrink. He'd sat before him and lied through his teeth, making all the encouraging noises that he would be expected to give in response to the therapist's questions. Yes, he was feeling fine. No, he wasn't having any flashbacks or nightmares. Yes, he was getting on fine with his work colleagues and loved ones.
They were lies of course. The nightmares, although lessened in their frequency, were still horrific and unnerving when they crept up on him and caught him unaware. He'd managed to keep his cool with his colleagues for the most part, they viewed him as a hero for what he'd done that day even though he'd done nothing but hold a dying woman's hand as he knelt beside her, helpless to do anything to save her. The other detectives in the squad room had cut him a little extra slack during the times that he'd reacted unexpectedly to certain sights and sounds, their patience with him would not be unending though, sooner or later they would tire of his erratic moods and behaviour.
It was his relationship with his wife that had suffered the most, at first she had been understanding of the traumatic events that had occurred. She'd held him as he woke after another terrifying dream night after night, soothing him back to sleep with gentle words of encouragement and her soft hands and lips.
As the weeks passed, she grew increasingly frustrated with his inability to put the incident behind him, asking him a number of times to sleep on the couch so that he didn't disturb her.
"I've got court in the morning, you know how important this case is," she would tell him tiredly, and each time he would shakily lift himself from the bed and try his best to drift off to sleep again on the couch, feeling cold and alone without her by his side to keep the demons at bay.
He knew her job was important to her, but what about him?
Lori seemed to have little or no consideration as to what he was going through; he'd wanted to open up and talk to her a number of times but had often found himself shut down as she tired of the conversation being centred solely on him and his needs. So he chose to internalise it instead, keeping his thoughts and feelings to himself until it became a habit, his coping mechanism of choice. People didn't care what he was going through, they didn't care about the images that assaulted him each day, the cries of the injured passengers and the woman he couldn't save.
He chose to lose himself in his work instead, believing that Lori had little interest in anything he had to say. As long as the conversation revolved around her and what she wanted to talk about they would be ok, every time he raised a subject for discussion she would shut him down or walk away, sometimes hurling a caustic and hurtful remark his way.
His resentment of her treatment towards him began to gnaw at him, he'd devoted the last three and a half years of his life to her and she treated him no better than if he were some kind of servant, there to be picked up and put down when she felt like it. Sex was on her terms and only when she wanted it, all other times she would be distant, almost cold in the way she treated him, pushing him away when he made amorous advances towards her, acting as if he was some kind of sex pest.
It was becoming clear that they were living separate lives, coming home each night and barely speaking to each other. The times that they did speak would often lead to arguments as she screamed and raged at him, calling him names and using her highly articulate vocabulary to cut him down to size and belittle him, chipping away at his ego and self-respect.
He'd let her speak to him like that without rejoinder a number of times, the sharp comments were primed and readied to be thrown back in her direction but he stopped himself, knowing that she would be hurt by his words. He loved her too much to want to hurt her, so he chose to ignore her and keep to himself. They slept on separate sides of the bed and barely kissed goodnight anymore, often coming in at different times in the evening to find the other already in bed and feigning sleep.
This was not how he imagined married life would be, what had happened to the fun-loving Lori, the woman who was more than eager to be swept up in the waves of passion that had defined the early part of their relationship?
It seemed like she barely had the time to talk to him anymore and when she did it would usually be something sarcastic or a criticism aimed in his direction. He loved her and had let her get away with her poor treatment of him for too long, there came a time when his ego would not stand for it anymore. He had reached his limit with his wife and her acerbic putdowns of the man she was so supposed to love, for better or worse.
He'd been steeling himself all day, psyching himself up for the argument that was likely to come when he finally confronted Lori about the state of their relationship. It was make or break time, by the end of the evening they would know the direction in which their marriage was heading. He prayed silently that she would be receptive to his words as he tried to explain the deep-seated unhappiness he was feeling at the moment.
He'd left the Precinct early, explaining the situation to Andy who was once again understanding of his young partner's troubled relationship with his wife. Andy had offered to cover the last hour and a half on his own; allowing him to get home and prepare what he believed was Lori's favourite meal.
The truth was that he had no idea if she even still liked chilli, there were so many things he didn't know about her anymore. She had changed considerably since the day their eyes had met across the squad room, so much so that he didn't even know what it was she wanted from him anymore.
To him it was simple, he loved her and wanted to care for her and protect her. Why couldn't she see that he took his marriage vows seriously?
All he wanted to do was be the man that she wanted, the man who would be the one to give her everything she had ever needed. The man who wanted to treat her like a princess and be the prince that he felt she deserved.
Lori had continually moved the goal posts, her needs and wants changing in time with her fickle moods. What was acceptable one day would not be the next, he had never met a woman as complicated and infuriating as her, yet he loved her despite of it. He loved this woman and would take her faults and insecurities and accept her despite of them. No matter which way he cut it, he was hopelessly, madly and blindly in love with her.
The sound of the front door opening and slamming shut made him jolt in the chair he was sitting in, he'd been too lost in his thoughts to realise that time had passed so quickly. His wife stood before him, stone-faced and looking tired.
"What's this?" she asked with a frown as she placed her handbag down and shrugged her coat off.
"I made dinner….we need to talk, Lori."
"There's nothing to talk about," she huffed as she blew a lock of hair out of her face and slipped her shoes off, heading for the kitchen area to pour herself a glass of wine, only to find her hand stopped by his firm grip as he handed her a glass he had poured earlier.
"You think cooking me a meal and giving me wine is going to get me in bed?"
There was no hint of humour in her voice as she took a gulp of the red wine and stared at him, waiting for an explanation for his actions.
He decided to ignore her goading, knowing that she wanted to pick a fight with him so that she could be validated in her reasons for pushing him away. "Lori…..we can't carry on like this, something's gotta give."
She stood staring at him for what seemed like an eternity before swallowing another mouthful of wine and making herself comfortable at the dining table. He took it as a sign that she was at least willing to sit down and hear him out.
They had barely said a word to each other as they sat in awkward silence eating their dinner. His continued reticence to speak was beginning to irritate her.
"Well talk then," she commanded as she glared at him.
He took another gulp of his own wine; he needed to fortify himself before starting. "Things haven't been right between us for a while. I'm not sure what it is that you want from me anymore."
"I don't know what it is that I want…..but I know I don't want this anymore," she responded tiredly. "The constant fighting, the uncomfortable atmosphere….this isn't what I want from life, John."
"Me neither," he responded quietly. "What are we going to do about it?"
"I don't think that there is anything we can do." Her voice held a tone of genuine sadness as she refused to look at the man she had married, the man she still loved but could no longer live with.
He looked as if he'd been slapped in the face as his brain registered what she had just said. "No, Lori," he pleaded as he leaned across the table and made a desperate grab for her hand.
She pulled it away before he could reach it. "I won't change who I am for you, John….I don't expect the same from you either."
He stood quickly and knelt beside her, placing a hand on her knee, dismayed when she flinched at his touch. "Tell me what to do…..what to change and I'll do it, I swear."
She shook her head. "There's no point, you'll only end up hating me for it. You can't change to please me…..it's not going to work."
"But we can make it work, Lori. We just have to try."
She growled in exasperation. "You're not getting it. I don't want to try, John…I'm done trying, I don't want to fight anymore."
"But I love you," he told her desperately, as if that would change what she was saying and rectify the issues that were rife in their marriage.
"It's not enough, John."
He stood up quickly and ran a hand through his hair, his shock now turning to anger that the woman he loved could turn away from him so easily. He'd given everything to her, how could she not even want to try to save their marriage?
"So that's it, we're over?"
Her head nodded as he saw the tears in her eyes. It was too late for the crocodile tears now; she'd just ripped his heart straight from his chest and stomped on it with her high-heeled shoes.
He wanted to cry, to show her how much he was hurting, but he refused to let her see what she'd just done to him. His whole world had been ripped apart and she couldn't seem to care less that she was the cause of his anguish; she just sat there with her head bowed, refusing to look at him.
Suddenly, the apartment he was standing in seemed like some kind of foreign land as everything he had built and shared with Lori quickly crumbled to dust around him. The walls were closing in; he had to get out of here before he did something that he would regret for the rest of his life. He quickly shoved a few items into a bag and left the apartment that he shared with the woman he loved; somehow he knew that this was it. Their marriage was over.
He was leaving the world he had known behind as he slowly closed the door, resigned to the fact that there was nothing he could say or do to convince Lori to change her mind. Now he was faced with the prospect of picking up the pieces of his shattered life and trying to put them back together again.
He stopped at a payphone and dialled a familiar number, relieved when the person on the other end answered and was sympathetic to his situation, he once more picked up the duffle bag with what was left of his life and made his way to Andy's apartment with his tail firmly wedged between his legs.
Present day. Miami:
Her tongue was in his mouth as her hands ran through his short auburn hair, the hands moved lower as she began pulling at the dark blue shirt he was wearing, trying desperately to pull it out of the waistband of his jeans. His hands rested on her hips as he pulled her onto his lap, his hands soon groping at her backside, feeling the top of her panties as his hands travelled to every inch of her he could find.
Their breathing quickened as the felt the flames of passion begin to heat between them again, they had always known just what to do to turn each other on. For all of their differences and personality clashes, they had always been perfect together when it came to the physical side of their relationship. She was driving him crazy as she moaned into his mouth as their tongues and hands duelled for dominance, both of them wanting the upper hand and to be in control of the moment.
He was losing his senses around her, he always had. No matter what she had done or how she had treated him, he would willingly come back for more. Lori was his drug, an addiction that he had been denied for so long, as the taste of her hit him again he knew he was hopelessly lost, defenceless against her passionate assault on his body. He craved the lust and thrill of her desperate hands on his bare skin as she made short work of the buttons on his shirt, her hands travelling further south as she undid his belt and fly and began massaging his groin.
Her touch was firm and assertive, her intentions clear as to just how she wanted this moment to end as her hand found its way through his boxers to a very intimate area. He closed his eyes and groaned into her neck as he kissed her with a fevered passion, a passion that was overriding his rational thinking as one by one, he lost complete control of his senses.