AN: This one ties to "How Mary Never Reacted."
Disclaimer: Jericho is not mine.
She could have thrown his things from her window and left them scattered in the street for him to find, but she was not inclined to indulge in the spectacle. She had drawn enough attention to herself in this town already. She hated that. She had lived here her entire life, and she knew how the lines of gossip worked. She was going to be reduced to the woman who had broken up the mayor's son's marriage. Her entire life was going to be eclipsed by that label and not even the end of the world as they knew it would be able to do much to deflect that.
The worst part was that she had no one she could blame but herself. She could see now that there were things about which Eric had obviously lied to her, but she could not claim that she had ever not known that he was married. She had known. The words are echoing in her head as some sort of tune stuck on repeat in the jukebox of her mind. She had known that he was a cheater. She had known that he must be lying at least to April and likely to other people as well about the time that he had been spending with her. What had ever made her believe that she was somehow immune to being the one lied to or cheated?
All she could see when she closed her eyes was the childhood memory of the expression on her father's face the day they had come home to find her mother's suitcases gone and a note on the table. How many times in her teenage years had she found her thoughts drifting to the woman who had left them (left her) behind and been able to give her no better label than coward to sum up her opinion of the actions of the woman who could not even be bothered to look them in the eyes to tell them that she was leaving them for something she deemed better?
Eric had not even bothered to leave. He had kept them both, apparently, in some bizarre keeping his options open scenario that she did not really want to think about too deeply. She had justified that somehow. She had made so many excuses. She had offered so many reasons to herself. She had avoided thinking about things so many times because she didn't want to have to think through what was truly happening.
She didn't want to imagine what her father would say to her if he was still here. She didn't want to picture the disappointment that he wouldn't have quite been able to prevent showing in his eyes no matter how comforting he might try to be. She had gotten herself into this; she would get herself out of it as best as she could. She had displayed some incredibly poor decision making skills; she was not going to double down on them by continuing to make excuses for either herself or him.
April was pregnant.
There was no denying that she had allowed herself to be had by a man that spun her tales while still with his wife. It ended now, but there was no reason for her to make a scene out of it. There would be enough talk for all of them to weather already. She was not going to add to it. There would be no tossing of items out of windows. She would pack his things back into the duffle bag that he had carried to her doorstep when he had shown up and announced that everything was a done deal - their secret was out and their life together was starting in earnest.
It struck her as she reloaded the bag with odds and ends that there wasn't much to pack. If she was still making excuses, then she would tell herself that he had been in a hurry or that there were more important things going on in town and he hadn't had a chance to really, truly move in with her. Without her automatic excuse response filter engaged, all she could think was that he was still keeping his options open by keeping his stuff spread out in multiple places. She needed to get her head on straight, and she thought, as she noticed that the extra key to her place was still in the pocket of the pair of pants that she was folding, she was going to get time to do that without him around to muddle her.
He pats down his pockets, but he finds nothing. He was sure that the key had been in his jacket, but he has even felt around for holes in the lining and found nothing. He isn't even sure why the door is locked. Mary never keeps the door locked. It is a bad habit that he has tried to get her to break, but she always tells him that it is too much trouble to remember to throw the bolt. Besides, she always says, if anyone was going to be wandering inside, then they would be going for the booze in the bar and not the efficiency apartment at the top of the stairs.
He knows that she was angry before. There is plenty of swelling going on on his face to show that, but he figures that he has given her plenty of time to cool off by now. It was surprising news. He knows that he was thrown by the announcement that April is pregnant, but he doesn't believe for one second any of the things that Mary said to him in the initial shock of the moment. He and Mary have had plenty of little spats before - about secret keeping, about timing, and about the whole situation. Everything is out in the open now, though, so this one should blow over quickly. He's given her the majority of a day to get it out of her system. He's sure that she is sorry about the way that she blew up at him. The two of them need to sit down and discuss how best to handle the situation they are now facing. He's sure that she'll be ready to listen to how he plans to handle things once they've gone through the making up motions.
The key is nowhere to be found. He must have dropped it somewhere, or he never put it into his pocket before he left the apartment. He'll have to look around for it, but he isn't too worried. It's not like it has a label on it telling people where they can use it. And, it's not like Mary makes a habit of locking the door. He hopes she hasn't fallen asleep because then it is going to take a lot of time and a lot of noise to get her to hear him and let him in - she's a really sound sleeper. He is pretty sure that she will be awake though - they had a fight. She'll be sitting there waiting for him to come back the way that she always does. She'll be sorry about the way that she lost her temper. She'll apologize for lashing out in her shock, and he'll say something about wishing he could have found a gentler way to break it to her. Then, they'll make up; it's their pattern. It works for them, and he, quite frankly, could use a little coddling. His family is being a bit unreasonable in his opinion. He runs his hands over his pockets one last time; it's no use.
He knocks a little harder at the door than he did the first time. He'll keep knocking for a long time; there won't be any answer.