The Devil Within [Jimmy Fallon]

6

Houston, we have a problem.

I watched as she laughed, flicking her dark hair behind her shoulder, her blue eyes sparkling. She was just talking to Mike but I couldn't keep my eyes off her animated face, enjoying the sweet sound of her laughter. Man, this was bad. This was really, really bad.

Although, I guess there was no reason for feeling guilty - the weekend gone had cemented the fact that Nancy and I were over. From the second I got to the Hamptons on Friday night and looked into her eyes, I just knew.

"Daddy!" The girls had shrieked as they ran across to me, huge smiles on their faces as I pulled them into my arms. I squeezed them as hard as I could without hurting them, not wanting to let them go. I didn't ever, ever want to go this long without seeing them again.

"Winnie, Franny," I pulled them to arms length so I could look at them, all bundled up in their pyjamas with their hair in cute little braids. I could of sworn that they had both grown, although it had been less than a week since I last saw them. "I've missed you so much!"

"Me too, Daddy," Winnie replied. "Mommy was about to read us a bedtime story. Will you read us a bedtime story too?"

"Sure," I smiled, standing up as I dared to look into Nancy's eyes for the first time. They were cold and unwelcoming, her mouth a straight line as she glared at me. "Nancy," I nodded, side stepping around her to follow the girls up the stairs.

She stayed downstairs as I read the girls to sleep, dragging out the story far longer than it should've gone on for, trying to put off the inevitable. "And then the prince and the princess went out for dinner... uh... for Italian food. He had the pasta with meat sauce, she had the lasagne. He-"

"Daddy, this doesn't happen in this story," Franny said sleepily, her eyes half closed.

"Uh, Daddy's improvising, baby."

I carried on a bit longer until they were both fast asleep, before reluctantly heading back downstairs. Nancy was in the living room, a glass of red wine in one hand and her phone in the other, texting furiously on it. She stopped as soon as I came in. "There you are," she practically snarled. "I was beginning to think you'd gotten lost up there."

"What can I say? The girls love my stories." I sat down on the other couch facing her, watching the frown on her face as she sipped on her wine.

"How was your week?" She asked.

"You really care?" I scoffed, unable to resist.

"No, not really," she replied. Touché. "Jimmy, I'm still really pissed at you. The way you acted with me on Sunday night... it was unacceptable. The last time it happened, I told myself that would be the last time."

"You say that like's a regular occurrence." I rolled my eyes, starting to feel anger build inside me. At least I was sober, I thought to myself. So she can't use that against me. Although, man, I would kill for a drink right now...

"Well, it kind of is, Jimmy. At least once a month. You get pissed at me for something or other, get wasted out of your mind, and turn aggressive."

"I get pissed at you for cheating on me," I muttered.

"You hurt me, Jimmy," she cried, ignoring what I said. "Emotionally and physically. When you push me, and hit me, and-"

"Whoa, whoa... you can stop there." My voice was raised, but I couldn't help it. "Sure, I may have crossed a line by pushing you, but hit you? I have never and would never hit you, Nancy. That's ridiculous."

"Is it?" Her eyes were wide as she pulled the sleeve of her sweater up, showing a bruise on her upper arm. "This is from when you were squeezing my arm last week. I know you've never hit me, but this is just as bad."