You Know Me Better

...The Worst Of Times

…

I meant what I said. He gave up on us- he was the coward here so don’t you dare judge me.

I didn’t say anything, Miss Porter.

…You didn’t have to.
  

Nobody had any right to speak on what happened the night he left. They weren’t there – it was just her, and him slouched over next to their daughter’s bedroom door with his head hanging between his knees…

The sound of glass breaking woke her up in the middle of the night, startling her upright. It wasn’t a home invasion, she knew, one look to her left told her all that she needed to know. So, she wrapped herself in her night gown and went to face him. Her heart felt like lead with each step she took until she finally opened the door and found him sitting there with his legs pulled to his chest and his head hanging low. But that’s not what caught her attention- those were his hands – they were hanging loosely over his knees dripping blood to the floor.

“I made a mess in the kitchen.” He whispered without looking up. “I’m sorry.”

She nodded, sliding down the wall to sit next to him. Six years later and she was still getting used to his erratic emotions. He never really smiles anymore. At least not the kind that ever reached his eyes, and even when he tried, she knew he was just going through the motions at this point. For Gina’s sake.

But the magic was gone from his eyes. They were just cold and empty pits now, waiting for the end.

“I know you are...” She told him, “…let’s just go to bed, yeah?” She reached for his arm only to scare him to his feet just to avoid her touch.

To put as much distance between them as possible.

She got up too.

When he spoke again, he was looking right at her, his dark pits showed no sign of life. He was giving up right in front of her eyes and she didn’t even know it.

“No.” he said firmly, with his hands curled into fists, causing the blood to drip down faster. She wondered if he felt any pain from that wound, any remorse for whatever damage was waiting for her in the kitchen. If he did, she wasn’t privy to any of it.

“How are you just okay with sharing a bed with me?” he asked. Accused actually- like he always did when he couldn’t wrap his head around how she was so okay with him being broken while he was barely holding himself together.

“Because…you’re my husband.” She reminded him. Like she always did. Because this was their dance now. It has been for six years- since the bad days came and the tiniest thing set him off. The first time it happened Gina was a year old. He was trying to baby-proof the house himself (-always by himself) but struggled with it so he lost his temper and trashed her nursery.

For the longest time she couldn’t forgive him for that- couldn’t even look at him. But the man was persistent, and she loves him so…Anyway, it didn’t happen again. Not for a while. Until suddenly something that happened occasionally became a regular occurrence- and no one was harder on him than himself.

“I’m not that man anymore, Terri. I- I can’t be.”

“Yes, you can.” She pressed, “you already are.”