keep it professional - r. taylor

26

~April 1980~

Fuming, I stormed off towards the exit of the pub, hoping Roger was close behind me. I had become more assertive of making my way through the crowd, wanting to get outside as quickly as I could. I hadn't even looked back towards him. I wanted him to see my face of anger and disappointment for the first time in better lighting.

We reached the back door, opening it to let the cool air hit our faces rather harshly. There was another couple there, who were definitely not in the same boat as us. They were sharing a cigarette, leaning up against each other, barely leaving any space between them. The guy stomped out the cigarette, leading his girlfriend off further down the alleyway, leaving the two of us alone.

Turning to face Roger, I saw his face was crimson red. "I'm sad to hear about Brian's preciseness in the studio. I know you've been showing up really late at home, and I always feel so bad." I made sure the sarcasm was thick between my words.

"Elizabeth, listen..."

"What? Was it just this one time? It's never happened before tonight? Save your bullshit response, Ethan told me everything." Roger rubbed his neck with one of his hands, realizing that there was no way out of this. "Why didn't you just tell me? I wouldn't have cared if you just told me!"

"Oh right."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"The reason I didn't tell you was because I knew you were going to make some snide little remark. Or you were going to hold it over my head for the next few months, and any time I tried to do something you didn't like, you would bring it up."

"I do not do that!"

"Please! You do it all the time. I just make sure to not tell you about anything so you can't do it to me."

"Oh okay, so this is all somehow my fault! Good to know."

"I'm not saying it's your fault. I'm just trying to explain my side of the story."

"Well let me explain mine. Roger, I'm not even mad that you're out and having fun. I wasn't lying when I said you deserve a break. I'm just upset about the lying, and the staying out late, and making me worry that you're going to break down at some point because you've been working yourself to the bone."

"Well I'm sorry that my trying to have a good social life infringed on you like that." I couldn't believe that he was being sarcastic right now. I was trying to be genuine, but he clearly did not believe me.

"You know what Rog? Why don't you stay out with everyone tonight, and I'll head home? You're obviously more focused on that than listening to me." Roger tried to reach for my hand, wanting for me to stay to talk it out. But I yanked my hand back, opening the door and heading back inside.

The whole drive home, I didn't know whether to feel more aggravated with his accusatory manner, or disappointed that we had ended up here. Once I got inside the flat, I enjoyed one of the sandwiches that I had prepared for the band on the couch. Switching through channels, I poured myself a glass of wine to help myself relax.

Washing up some dishes, I prepared myself for bed. It was much earlier than usual, but I felt completely exhausted. Roger was still not home yet, but at this point, I didn't really want to see him because that meant we had to talk again. And I couldn't handle that right now.

Finally, I wrapped myself up with blankets and closed my eyes. Even though I had felt exhausted once I got home, lying in bed, I couldn't get to sleep. I kept my eyes closed, hoping that a wave of exhaustion would overcome me if I stayed in this position. But I simply laid there for a long time, keeping my eyes closed with my muscles tensed.