Going Back to Get Away After Everything Has Changed

Ch 13: What A Mess, What A Mystery We Made

JENNA FARRO's POV 

Finally, after many failed attempts with turning the key correctly into the doorknob, I am emancipated into my mesy apartment. Just from the welcoming slobbiness of clothes spread everywhere, unwashed dishes, and misplaced objects, I can tell I haven't been here for days. 

However I see a dim light escaping from under a closed door. I turned on the apartment lights, and see the mess in a much aggravating view. I walked towards the light that was on to recognize that-- damn him! he left the hall closet light on again. So I turn it off, adding another annoying bullet point to the list of why I have this pounding headache. 

The bed sounds so comforting, and definitely more comfortable than a chair or bench, but fuck I just want to take a shower. Maybe a bath, if I don't fall asleep in there. Fuck it, a bath will help this headache go away. 

So mindlessly I wander over to the bathroom, and turn on the bath faucets. I should probably get my phone to set an alarm in case I do fall asleep. So reluctantly I waste energy to make a trip to my purse that I left on the nightstand in the living room. I fumble to find my phone, then realize it has been dead this whole time. Once more another energy costing trip to the bedroom to get a charger. 

I've been spending all my days and nights at the hospital ever since Josh got there. The only time I come back here is to shower and get a change of clothes. Worst part is that I have to drive myself, since nobody knows that Josh and I are divorcing. I have to insist that they do not give me a lift to what used to be our house. 

Harris and I bought the apartment, so the day I confessed it all, I left with all my things already packed. But damn, it wasn't easy getting used to living with a different man with different... hygeine habits. I was so used to the tidy atmosphere Josh and I created for our house. Harris wouldn't ever pick up after himself. I let it slide in the beginning, but days like this, it drives me crazy. 

But I ignored it for the time being. I'm just fixing everything that is needed for my bath, going to sleep, and then heading back to the hospital. No need to get aggravated by this crap right now. 

Everything is set, but then I realize there are no towels in the bathroom. With an exasperated sigh, I head to the hall closet to fetch one. As I exit, though, I run into Harris who looks like he was just getting home. He sways drunkingly, caught off guard by my presence. 

"Oh shit, I'm glad you're here, I thought I left everything on." he slurred. 

He's been out drinking again with his douchebag co-workers. Okay, to be fair, they weren't bad people, but I hate how they are amusingly entertained Harris' intoxicated behavior. It's quite funny and cute, until you're the one cleaning the vomit from the toilet, and washing it out of his facial hair. 

"Please tell me someone drove you home." I muster through my teeth, balancing him upright. 

"Mmhhmm." he nodded. 

I helped him along to the bedroom. 

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming home?" he asked, as he plopped onto the bed, starting to kick off his shoes. 

"I didn't know I was. Plus my phone was dead anyway."

"How's he?" he inquired, further stripping into nothing but his boxers.

"Not getting that much better. They did all the surgeries they needed to do already. His body is basically casted. But that's all that they can do right now." 

"It's not fair you know." he started, getting under the covers. "That you get to spend time with him, but I can't even see my own kids."

Here we go again.