To Begin Again

Chapter 3

I am in a half sleep, my head is resting on his chest. The rhythmic breathing soothes my soul. "Andy," I mumble. I feel a gentle hug and a rub of a hand on my shoulder.

My head is pounding and my eyes sting from the torrents of tears that flooded my mascara stained face. I try to adjust to the dimly lit living room. Slowly sitting up, I gather my wits.

"Holy shit!" I jump from the sofa, causing my head to nearly explode, "what are you doing here?"

"Good morning to you too."Provenza straightens up, rubbing the shoulder I slept against. "We need to talk, but first go take a shower." He narrows his eyes at me. "You look like hell."

The seriousness of his gaze unnerves me. I want to dig my heels in and demand to talk now, but the need to vomit takes precedent.

After my shower, I put on my yoga pants and a NYPD sweatshirt. I don't bother to dry my hair or put on make-up.

The smell of coffee greets me when I pad down the hallway. He hands me a cup and tells me to sit.

"Your daughter asked me to come," he takes a sip of coffee, "she's worried about you."

I give him a questioning look. "I'm fine. She has nothing to worry about." I look around. "Where is she anyway?"

"I told her to stay with friends until we're finished here," he says, eyes unwavering.

I give him a defiant glare, "then I guess she can come home, I believe we're finished. I'm fine."

"She said she had her dad, she didn't need to have her mom acting like her dad too."

I feel like the air is being sucked from my lungs. I try to speak, but he doesn't give me the chance.

"You come home drunk, that is, on the nights you bother to come home." He rubs his forehead, "this isn't you, Sharon, what happened to you?"

I stare at the bottom of my coffee cup, "it's not like that."

"So, last night, or I should say, this morning wasn't like that?" He pours himself another cup and sits back down.

"Look, I hang with the guys from the precinct. We work hard, we play hard, and they're always there for me." As soon as I say it, I notice the hurt in his eyes.

"I see, so I guess my coming here was for fun, and not that I give a damn what happens to you," his voice grew louder with every syllable.

"I didn't mean….." I feel a tear trickle down my cheek.

He reaches for my hand and exhales loudly, "have you talked to him since you left?"

I shake my head no, "I texted him once. I don't think he answered."

"You leaving devastated him, you know."

I get up and start to pace. "I devastated him? Really?"

"I thought you would understand, with his ex wife being sick and all, but then you left. You just left."

I stop pacing for a moment, "what are you talking about?"

"Andy's ex, the cancer, the separation from the present husband?"

"All I know is that I was unceremoniously dumped and he moved in with her." I sit across from him and lean back in my chair, "please, feel free to elaborate."

"Andy was trying to reconcile with his son. His ex wife was diagnosed with cancer and the present husband took a hike. I take it the son guilt tripped Andy into moving in and taking care of her."

"Why couldn't he have just explained that?" I pound my fist on the table. "Instead I get it's not you it's me, I can't do this anymore, you should move on with your life bullshit." I stand and lean across the table. "So I moved on. The next time you see him, tell him he got his wish."

Provenza stands up and shakes his head, "you honestly didn't know." He says it as a statement not a question.

I shake my head and look at the floor. "Why didn't he love me enough to tell me the truth?"

"I think in his idiot way, he loved you too much to tell you the truth." He cupped my chin, making my eyes meet his. "Come back, straighten this out."

"I have a job offer, a good one. I've found the perfect apartment. I have great friends." I shrug.

"It's him, isn't it?" Provenza asks.

"Who?"

"The one you're moving in with, the asshole who thinks I'm your father."

I laugh out loud. "The asshole is Detective Sergeant Vincent Rizzo, and no we aren't moving in together."

"Emily heard him say you were a good roommate."

"Exactly. I've stayed there a time or two after a late night or when Emily has a date.…I clean up after myself, I don't throw wild parties without permission, I don't rent porn and charge it to his account. I don't steal his clothes," I raise my brows as I take notice of my sweatshirt, "that is what constitutes a good roommate in Rizz's world."

Provenza pours me another cup of coffee. "I'm drowning in bureaucracy and Taylor's making me crazy. If for no other reason, come back and save me." He looks at me with pleading eyes. "It's been almost three months since you went on leave."

I bite my lower lip, "three months, one week and six days, but who's counting."