Falling In

by Stark, Avery

  “What the fuck, Audrey?”

  She jumped up from her chair so fast that she slammed her knee against the brand-new table. All of their cups, plates and the small flower vase in the center toppled and crashed under the force, but none of the commotion stopped the rising fury under her skin.

  After trying in vain to find words to hurt him as badly as he just hurt her, she clamped her quivering lips shut, grabbed her purse and ran out. There was nothing that she could say to make him--or anyone--feel the pain that gripped her heart. In one night, everything that defined her was snatched away. But by the time that the valet fetched her car and she sank down into the cold seat, there was only one question that loomed large.

  Audrey jammed down the gas pedal and peered out to the gentle rain that started to fall.

  “What the hell do I do now?”

  Chapter 2

  Morning came the next day, though very little of the sun’s rays made it through the heavy cloud-cover. The storm that rolled in before was still going strong, even after dumping rain on the area for most of the night. It left all of Chicago feeling damp and dreary.

  Audrey rolled over and found herself alone in the bed that she normally shared with Max. He came home the night before but she didn’t see or hear from him. Very wisely, he chose to sleep on the couch downstairs. She could hear him rummaging around down there but couldn’t bring herself to even look at him, let alone speak to him.

  She groaned and rubbed her face with both hands. Everything that happened was like an awful nightmare, the residue of which felt like it lingered on her skin.

  Over on the nightstand, her cell phone buzzed to life. Right away, a sinking feeling tore at the pit of her stomach and caused her to hesitate. If it was Max calling from below, there was no way in hell that she was going to answer it. The hot words that simmered in the back of her mind had no place being said that morning. Even she wasn’t prepared to deal with them.

  She grabbed the phone and tried to clear the haze from her eyes, which were still fogged and swollen. Once she did, a name that she was relieved to see waited on the screen.

  “Hello,” she asked after pressing the answer button.

  “Audrey? Miss Audrey Davis?”

  She sat up in her bed and tried to smooth down the tangled, golden waves that wrapped around her head like a tornado.

  “You got it.”

  The girl on the other end laughed, sounding pleased.

  “Looks like I managed to get something right today.”

  Kimberly Parsons, an accountant that joined KWP at about the same time that Audrey did, ended up being one of her closest friends. Even after packing up and moving to Florida for a promising government job a few years earlier, the two stayed in contact. They often called to check up on one another and shoot the shit for hours at a time.

  For Audrey, she was one of her only true friends.

  Kim continued after a brief pause to loudly chug whatever she was drinking, “How are ya?”

  “Um,” she said cautiously. “I’m okay. How’re you?”

  Her friend ignored the question.

  “You don’t sound okay.”

  As much as she wanted to pour everything out right then and there, Audrey did her best to keep it together. Once the crying started, she wasn’t sure when it would end.

  “I’m just waking up.”

  “Okay.”

  The way that she drew the vowels out at the end made it clear that she knew something was up, but that she also wasn’t going to push the issue. That was one of the things that Audrey loved about her: she knew where the line was and very seldom crossed it.

  She sank back against her plump pillows and threw her head back against the wood headboard with a loud thud. It felt good to know that she could still feel something. Everything that morning felt surreal; like a low, dull weight between the shoulders that kept her pinned to the world as it crumbled around her.

  “I can’t believe that it’s been that long since you left the company,” she replied, almost choking on the last word. After that she was quick to change the subject. “So what’s new?”

  “Actually I was just calling to see if you could maybe do me a favor. I have to leave for a couple of weeks and need someone to come down and keep an eye on things.”

  “You mean come down to Florida?”

  “Uh huh. The lady down the road volunteered to do it but she fell and shattered her hip a few days ago, so I don’t know how much help she would be if someone broke in, you know?”

  Audrey licked her dry lips and considered it for a second. At the moment, it was something that she couldn’t commit to, though the warm Florida sand and sea sure did sound nice.

  “I have a lot going on, but let me think about it.”

  “Sure. And hey, call me later if you want to talk.”

  Her tone implied again that she knew there was more going on than Audrey let on to.

  “Thanks,” she replied softly. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

  Before she could hang up, Kim spoke up again.

  “Hey.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Keep your head up, okay?”

  Audrey smiled and felt a little pleased that someone finally gave a shit about how she felt.

  “I’ll do my best. Bye, Kim.”

  “Bye.”

  She let her friend hang up first and tossed the phone onto the bed near her feet before slithering back between the sheets like a snake. From downstairs, Max’s insufferable noise grew louder and louder by the minute, eventually forcing her out of her bed.

  As if he planned it, Max stepped out of their home and started toward the street just as she made it to the window. From there, Audrey could see him pretty clearly through the trees that lined the sidewalk.

  She could also see the cherry-red paint that belonged to Max’s personal trainer, Miranda Answell’s brand new sports car. As soon as the glimmering crimson--and the person behind the wheel--registered in Audrey’s head, she felt unusually dizzy.

  Forced back down to reality yet again, she sank against the wall and slid down to the cold wood floor where she waited for an emotional respite that never came.

  ---

  The rest of the day crawled by with Audrey barely able to pull herself out of bed long enough to shower and eat half of an apple. It was already close to 9 at night and there was still no sign of Max. But as much as she wanted to never see his face again, there was another part of her that wanted to slap it just one more time.

  She hung her body over one of their kitchen’s counter tops and rested her chin in her hands. It was still easy for her to remember when she and Max went to pick out the marble together. In fact, many of the things that they did flowed through Audrey’s head as she sat there and picked a few remaining chunks of apple skin out of her teeth.

  With the flick of a finger, she tossed one of the pieces onto the counter. It was a familiar shade of red that immediately made her skin crawl.

  Is that what’s really going on? He’s probably been fucking her on the side for months.

  Her pulse raced as all of the horrible possibilities--and visions of those possibilities that she didn’t want to see--ran amok in her head.

  Have I been the fool the whole time?

  Audrey tried her best to restrain control of her angry conscience, but by then it was like a freight train without brakes. She couldn’t stop all of the horrifying scenarios that could have happened from playing in her thoughts like a movie. She analyzed seemingly pointless conversations and days when he was 10 or 15 minutes late from work, picking through them for anything that might have foreshadowed the shock that he had in store for her.

  In the dining room nearby, assorted pictures of their life together dotted a set of staggered shelves that wrapped around the walls. They sat there mockingly, their smiling faces mirroring the exact opposite of everything that Audrey felt as she stood there and looked at them. The biggest one, which was situated near the center of the room,
was an 8x10 of them on their wedding day.

  Audrey’s bare feet pattered softly against the cold tile floor as she walked over to the picture and took it down from the shelf. She held it up and let her eyes run over every detail.

  The dress that she had on was perfectly white with a deluge of sparking beads that spread gracefully over the bodice. Her thin, long veil was lined with the same delicate detailing and it framed her grinning face like a soft, sparking glow. Max, too, was smiling from ear to ear. Both of his arms were wrapped around her small waist and he held her close, forcing their wine-rosy cheeks together in a genuinely happy embrace. In the background, the blissful blue of the Hawaiian ocean shone under the gentle surf.

  Their wedding was a small one, though Audrey never once felt like she missed out on anything. All of their closest family and friends were flown out for the short ceremony that took place on a private beach in Kauai near dusk. Audrey could still remember the sizzling sounds of over a dozen tiki torches that hissed whenever there was a lull in the ceremony. And if she thought hard enough, she could even still recall the salty-sweet taste in the air and feel the cool ocean breeze as it fluttered through her flowing, white gown.

  A tear splattered onto the glass, landing square in the middle of Max’s glowing expression. It was one that she hadn’t seen in a very long time.

  “What happened to you?”

  She wiped the glimmering drop away with the tip of her pinky finger and walked back into the kitchen, still holding onto the picture firmly. When she reached the island, she sat down in one of three tall barstools and stared down at the taunting impression of happier days.

  “What happened to us?”

  The door leading to the garage popped open, startling Audrey so badly that the heavy frame tumbled from her hand and rattled loudly against the counter top.

  Max walked through the door with a stagger that was all too familiar: he was sloshed. He stumbled through the kitchen, using the fridge and then the sink to stabilize himself. It wasn’t until he was almost out of the room that he realized he wasn’t alone and spun around on his heels.

  Even though he was drunk, Audrey could see the wheels turning in his head as he tried to formulate something to say. At that point, her only concern was the nature of the drivel that was about to leave his mouth.

  “What,” he mumbled and pushed himself toward her, eventually coming to rest with a wavering lean on the opposite side of the island. “What’s wrong with you?”

  The hot rise of anger immediately bubbled back to Audrey’s otherwise cool-looking exterior. Though she knew full well that it wouldn’t accomplish anything, it still took all of the willpower that she had to not immediately start screaming at the top of her lungs.

  She answered his question through gritted teeth, “What’s wrong with me?”

  He sloppily shrugged his shoulders, making the pink lipstick stains on his shirt catch Audrey’s eye. Her hands closed around the edge of the cold counter and squeezed so hard that she could feel some of her knuckles popping. It was the only thing that she could think to do. She felt like a deer in the headlights.

  “You can’t act like you didn’t want this, too.” He pointed a swaying finger at her and continued, “I know you’ve been thinking the same thing.”

  “No, you assumed that I’ve been thinking the same thing. I haven’t even considered a divorce...not until that shit that you pulled at dinner.”

  Max looked amused.

  “The shit that I pulled? Were we in the same restaurant?”

  The smug look on her husband’s face made Audrey furious. He sat there with his body perched over the lip of the counter and swayed back and forth, making no attempt at hiding the evidence of his infidelity.

  She pushed her chair away from the island and hopped to her feet, sending it to the floor. Magnified by the awful silence between them, the clatter seemed unreasonably loud.

  “You’ve got some fucking nerve, coming in here like this.”

  Max’s posture stiffened a little.

  “Oh yeah?”

  Audrey slammed her hands on the counter.

  “How long have you been screwing her?”

  He eyed her like he was trying to decide whether or not to tell the truth.

  “As long as you have been sleeping with James.”

  Audrey’s mouth almost hit the floor. James Parcell was a strapping young man who worked--and sometimes carpooled--with her. But as good looking as he was, there was one huge problem with Max’s scenario: James was gay.

  She pointed in his direction and said angrily, “You’ve made one hell of a mistake, Max. I hope that bitch is worth it, because you sure as hell aren’t.”

  He hiccupped and slurred, “Don’t lie to me.”

  Audrey could tell that he was losing his patience, but she couldn’t stop herself.

  “You’re a selfish, lying asshole and I hope that she does the same thing to you someday.”

  “But you said on the phone that-”

  “That’s not what I meant when I said that we needed to talk, Max,” she interrupted. “For fuck’s sake! You never even tried to find out.”

  “Look, maybe I didn’t really care.”

  He started to get visibly agitated. Though Audrey knew that she was playing with fire, all of the anger and resentment that was pushed to the back of her mind needed some kind of release. She had too many words for him. Hell, she had emotions for which words didn’t even exist.

  She was fortunate, in a way. All of those words were dammed up just behind her lips as a barrage of “fuck you”, “go to hell” and other colorful phrases jockeyed to be the first ones out. Because of that, she sat there like a kettle about to scream.

  Max pushed himself up but kept his palm planted firmly on the marble between them.

  “Maybe,” he said with a lower, slower and more deliberate tone. His drunken slur was almost undetectable. “I want a divorce because I didn’t care then and I don’t care now.”

  His vile, contemptuous words cut through Audrey like a blade. Never once had she seen him act this way: like an animal out for blood. It was like someone flipped a switch and sent him into attack mode. Even his eyes didn’t look the same. Their usual sheen was gone and made his normally light brown irises look as dark as chocolate.

  Audrey watched him cautiously and tried to convince herself that it was just the poor lighting. But as they sat there and sized each other up for a silent few minutes, a creeping uneasiness started to grip her. He looked much angrier than anything that she remembered.

  Audrey snatched the framed picture of their wedding day up and forced it just an inch from his nose.

  “And what about this,” she screamed. “What about the promises that you made to me? I’ve given you everything, Max, and now you’re just spitting on all of it like it was nothing.”

  Max yanked the picture from her arm, raised it up, and smashed it back down onto the counter. Splinters of wood and sparking bit of glass exploded from under his clenched hand as their battered portrait fluttered to the floor by Audrey’s feet.

  When she looked up, Max still gripped the only solid piece of the frame in his hand. From it, a steady pattering of blood started to fall. It landed on the broken pieces and spread seamlessly through the glittering glass.

  Audrey only took one step back, but that was all that it took to draw Max’s cold, blank stare to her. It was a look that a person only sees a handful of times in their life; that thousand-yard stare of someone who is no longer human; someone who has resigned to the animal nature that most people try so hard to keep in check.

  Her heart fell into the pit of her stomach. She wasn’t dealing with Max anymore.

  Before she could retreat, he lunged around the corner. Audrey made it as far as the oven when she felt his hot, bloody hand close around her arm. Little bits of glass that were still wedged in his palm tore through the delicate skin of her wrist.

  She yelped with surprise and tried to jerk her limb
away, but that only made it worse. The biting cuts opened up even deeper, allowing a sticky mix of their blood to start to roll over her flesh.

  Max spun her around and grabbed both of her shoulders.

  “You started this,” he insisted and threw her back.

  Audrey’s feet went out from under her as she flew a short distance and slammed up against the stove. Her body smashed into the white top and fell to the right, forcing the side of her head to smack into the cabinets nearby. Like a rag doll, her body sank down onto the floor as the few lights that were on in the house started to dance and swirl. At the very edges of her sight, she could see a looming circle of black that started grow.

  Closing her eyes, she listened as Max stomped back out to the garage and started up his car. It peeled out at the end of the driveway and sped off into the night.

  Only then did she allow herself to cry.

  Shaking her head to try and clear the cobwebs, she pulled herself up into a sitting position and let her head hang low. Soon, her gentle sobs transformed into all-out wails of misery. A steady rush of tears flooded down onto her lap, where her bloody wrist sat limp. It soaked up the brackish liquid and made her entire arm feel like it was on fire.

  Audrey wrapped both hands around her throbbing head and bawled. The moment that Max put his hands on her, time slowed to a stop. Her job, their rent, the recession and even the arguments that they had before fell to the way-side. It was that one simple act--one shove--that stormed to the forefront of her conscience and kept her there on the floor for hours as she wept and bled, alone.

  It was almost midnight when Audrey’s desperate cries started to die down and she slipped her phone from the pocket of her jeans. Through her swollen eye lids, she could see just enough to dial back the last incoming call: Kim.

  “Hello?”

  She sounded groggy.

  “Hey. Sorry to call so late, but I wanted to talk to you.”