Chocolate

Alright

The boys were quiet. For once. Melody noticed the the peace resonating through the house half way through the glass of whiskey she splurged in on her bed. She almost wanted to check on them to make sure they were alright. They never stayed quiet. Unless their father was around, which was near to never. The whiskey felt so nice sliding down her throat, consuming her insides. It was the most she felt in a year. Everything else was monotonous. Bland.

"Melody, what the hell are you doing?"

She didn't even flinch at the sound of his voice. In fact, it made her a little glad that he was around for once, albeit that he was yelling.

"The boys were downstairs fighting. Do you understand what the term stay at home mom means? Not stay at home woman. Not stay at home and drink whatever the hell you're drinking. Stay at home mom! So why don't you go down there and be a mom!" he yelled as if it would get a rise out of her. Although he should be used to the calm before the storm. She would blow up soon enough. "I stay at work all day to support this family and what do you do all day?" he rhetorically asked, rummaging through his drawers for clothes.

"A marriage counselor. I find it funny that you're critiquing me for being a bad mom when you counsel struggling partners and you can hardly keep your marriage together yourself," she ran a finger around the rim of her glass, distracting herself so she wouldn't have to look him in the eye. If she did, she would feel something. Feelings are a dangerous thing.

"Like that's my fault," he said to her with not a bit of sarcasm.

"Oh it is," she nodded with a look that screamed are you fucking kidding? "What happened?" her eyes stared out the window, overlooking the flaky snow adorned trees and her friendly neighboring family, all building snow men together.

"I don't know," he sat down on the bed. He wasn't angry anymore. He wasn't pissed that his wife wasn't watching over his kids. He was sad. Disappointed with his life. He was done his life with Melody and she was done her life with him, but they were still holding on desperately for fear of what would happen if they rocked the boat.

"I'm your wife, Gabe," she swooped over and held his face in her hands. They hadn't looked at each other for this long in well over a year. "I'm Melody Harkin. You remember that girl, right? You remember walking into that bar and offering me a drink which I refused at first but when the Mets-"

"Which I still don't forgive you for rooting for by the way," he added with a smile full of nostalgia and memories. She laughed with tears in her eyes and her hands didn't budge from his face.

"You hated them, but you offered me a drink again anyway because they were losing and when they lost you saw how down I was even though it didn't really bother me that much, but I pretended it did so you could take me out to dinner afterwards. And you did. We went to Applebee's and you got a burger and I wanted to impress you with a salad but I ended up eating the rest of your burger anyway. And we were so happy. Do you remember that girl? Melody Harkin?" she asked desperately, praying he would realize that Melody was his girl and she always would be.

"I remember her," he broke eye contact, looking down at their sheets. "So you go be Melody Harkin," he looked at her again. "You go be that girl full of life and happiness and the girl that tries to impress men with a salad but finishes their burgers anyway."

Melody laughed. And cried. She was a mess of tears and giggles and he held her tight, holding onto the memories of his wife.

"Are you saying you want a divorce?"

"Yes."

"Alright."

"Alright?"

"Yes."