Margaret and Olivia

Chapter Seven: The Lover's Quarrel

Margaret's head turned to the side with the impact of Jackson's hand. She immediately lifted her own hand and touched her stinging cheek. Jackson stared at her, oblivious to his abusive action. Margaret stared back at Jackson, shock and fear flooding through her stomach.

"Jackson, what the – what the hell!" Margaret scooted back into the couch as her eyes filled with tears.

"I could say the same thing to you. I've put my all into this relationship and you can't even bother to admit that are no longer in love. It took you that long to tell me the truth? Well, nonetheless, I'm glad you finally admitted the truth. However, I am very upset that you think I am selfish and crazy.

"I work hard to make you happy. I took a leap of faith when we bought this house, but we built up our house and our careers. I cared for our son while you were on business trips. I spent hours at work and came home to cook dinner for the three of us because you worked so late, and even now we barely have time to eat together. Tonight, we finally got to eat together, and we saw a movie together. I hate pirates."

During Jackson's ramblings, Margaret pushed herself into the sofa trying to escape. She glanced around, desperate for an escape, but there nothing in sight. The Cain's did not own weapons, and the closest phone was in the kitchen. Margaret's breathing began to match her heart's rapid, unsteady progression. Her focus was no longer on Jackson, who somehow managed to still be talking. The ticking of the clock became a venomous reminder of her time running out. Jackson, too, noticed the clock because he stood up and walked directly in front of it.

"I hate this clock."

"But your father made that clock. I thought you loved it." Margaret spoke without thinking of the consequences. Her words tumbled out, and she immediately recognized her mistake.

"Well, Margaret, as we have learned tonight, you don't know everything about me so why don't you butt out, would you?" His vexed tone had lost its anger.

Margaret eyed the front door, knowing it was her only escape. She glanced at Jackson, who she quickly assessed was too hypnotized by the clock to notice her. Margaret's bare feet firmly touched the carpet. With her eyes fixated on Jackson, she slowly stood. He grinned, and she thought she had been caught, but he began taping the clock's exterior glass in rhythm to the ticking. Risking more, Margaret's actions slowly speed up. She felt along the edge of the couch as she kept her eyes trained on Jackson. She reached the stair's wall leading to the small foyer; she turned her body to the front door, which stood barely five feet ahead. Her foot dipped down and touched the cold tiling, but the chill that ran across her spine came from the icy hand softly touching her right scapula. The delicate touch soon gripped her shoulder and spun her around. Deep blue eyes and messy brown hair greeted her.

"Margaret. Margaret. Don't you know it's rude to leave while someone is talking? I was just discussing why the clock represents our relationship, which is why I hate it." His behavior was scholarly as he forcefully led her back to the couch. Her feet remained planted and left skid marks as he practically dragged her across the carpet and onto the couch. For 47, Jackson was still fit. In his free time, his hobbies included running and swimming, giving him enough strength to easily move Margaret like a child. Her light body dropped into the same corner of the couch as before. He, again, sat on the coffee table in front of her. He studied her as she came to a seated position on the couch. She watched him watch her. They sat still for several moments. His body leaned in as her body leaned away. By now the taunting clock had approached 12:30 am. The Cain's were both exhausted but neither moved. Jackson cleared his throat to speak.

"You want to know why I'm behaving like this, and I want to know why you no longer love me. I think our answers are closer than we realize. We've been together for 23 years and married for 20 of those years, but there are still many hidden secrets between the two of us. There's a loss of love for many reasons. I think you hate me because you blame me for our son hating you. He avoids you and never talks to you, and you blame me. Ever since he left two years ago, you have treated me with so much tension. And now we come to the point in which you don't love me.