Stranger Arms

8:04 PM

How did a house filled with noise for the first time in days feel the emptiest it has ever felt?

That's what Sandy wants to know.

Leaning against the doorframe of her bedroom door, she doesn't understand what her life was becoming.

She watches Alan shove clothes into a suitcase, but says nothing.

Alan sighs. "You think you can give me some space?"

Sandy doesn't know who she's talking to now. Was it good Alan? Mean Alan? There were far too many sides to her husband to figure out, and not enough knowledge about any of them.

Her voice is sad, but firm. "Goodness, what happened to you?"

Alan rolls his eyes. "Don't start with this, alright? I'm not here to discuss anything. Just grabbing my things."

Sandy wants to break down and cry. What happened to her life partner? Everything was going well up until last month.

"Please, Alan. Talk to me. Let's work this out."

Alan keeps quiet, but an anger grows on his face.

Sandy walks over to him, trying to physically stop him from packing. "Stop it. Just stop it and talk to me."

Alan yanks his arm away. "Get out of my way."

Her heart aches, but she pushes through it. "I know you're scared, but you don't have to go through this alone. We can get through this together."

Alan turns beet red. In a fit of range, he pushes Sandy down so hard, she falls to the floor.

Her heart stops. She looks up at him in fear.

Alan blinks, clearly taken aback. He runs his hands down his scalp. "Don't... don't get up. Don't follow me. And don't call me. Just... just leave me be."

Sandy freezes. She closes her eyes and allows the tears to fall, hearing the sound of the Range Rover pull out of the driveway.

She can't believe that Alan put his hands on her, something he'd never done before.

What a coward. But God help me, I love him.

She melts into the floor and weeps. It's a tired weep filled with anguish.

The last few days had been like this. The anti-depressants weren't kicking in anymore, and many times she wanted to end this, in such a way that there was no going back.

For so many years, Alan told her he loved her. Their marriage never had problems.

Then one day, something in him snapped. He started working out, whitening his teeth, and dying his hair.

And then, the late-night phone calls started. The sexy text messages. And Alan never denied it. He was sick. He had to be.

Sandy was willing to forget the infidelities, so long as he came home. But after less than a month, Alan cleared their bank accounts and moved out, without rhyme or reason.

She nearly cried herself to sleep, but who was she kidding? She hadn't slept in days.

She contemplates going for a carton of cigarettes, something she hadn't touched in decades.

She remembers why she quit in the first place. Initially, it was to be healthy enough to have children later in life, but Alan never wanted any. Even if he did, he was gone now.