by Alexa Davis
"I know that," he slurred. "You think I don't know that? How stupid do you think I am?"
"You're not stupid, Tommy," I said.
"Damn right I'm not," he said. "Not stupid."
"Tommy, you're drunk," I said in a stern tone. "Where are you?"
"The bar," he slurred then yelled. "Hell yeah, I'm at the bar and I'm having a damn good time!" I roar went up behind him and I wondered what bar he was at that would have people responding to his drunken shouting.
"How are you going to get home?" I asked.
"No, no, no," he said. "This isn't about me. This is about you, and where are you?"
"I'm in Sydney, Tommy," I replied. Maybe if I stayed general, he would be placated and I wouldn't have to get into the specifics with a drunken husband.
"No, I know that, but where in Sydney," he asked.
"I'm staying at the Marks Hotel," I said. "That's where the flight crews stay when they travel."
"Then how come no one answered when I called your room, huh?" In his drunken state, Tommy was still aware of what was going on.
"I don't know, what time did you call?" I asked. "I might have been up in Trish's room or out getting dinner."
"I don't remember, but I know you weren't there!" he said accusingly. Then suddenly, his voice shifted and he began crying, "I'm sorry, Em. I'm so sorry."
"Tommy, what's going on? Where are you?" I shouted into the phone. "What is happening?"
"I'm sorry, Em. I'm such a rotten husband and such a loser," he cried. "I don't deserve you."
"Tommy what are you talking about?" I repeated. "Tell me what's going on!"
"I can't Em, I just can't," he sobbed as he dropped the phone and stopped talking. All I could hear in the background was the sound of machines clanging and random voices. It was as if he'd dropped the phone in the middle of a crowded bar or arena or...casino! Tommy was at the casino.
"Oh no," I groaned. "Tommy! Tommy! Pick up the phone! Pick it up!"
There was nothing but random noise on the other end, but I could hear people cheering and others talking as they walked past wherever Tommy had laid the phone down. Then all of a sudden, the line went dead. I sat on the couch looking at my phone screen for a moment, then hit redial and got Tommy's voicemail. I left a frantic message for him to call me back before texting him and demanding that he call me.
There was no response. I tried calling once more and sending a few more texts before I gave up and put my head in my hands and cried. Tommy was in some casino doing who knows what and I was here, with Austin, cheating on my husband with a man that...that what? I stopped and thought about it for a moment and realized that I had fallen for Austin. What I was feeling for him was the beginning of something much more than just a cheap, tawdry affair. I liked him. I liked being with him. I liked being intimate with him. A lot.
I wanted out of my marriage and I had no idea how I was going to explain that to Tommy. I didn't care what my mother thought about it or what she said I was supposed to do, I wanted out. I wanted my freedom and I wanted to be with Austin. Or at least, I wanted to see if we had a chance to make it, but in order to do that, I had to wrap up things at home and I couldn't do that while sitting here on this couch in Sydney waiting for my flight to return to the States. I had to get back now.
I ran up to the bedroom and stood watching Austin sleeping for a long time. He looked so peaceful, a small smile flitted across his lips as he shifted in his sleep and reached out trying to find me. I shoved a pillow in his direction and he contentedly wrapped himself around it while murmuring something I couldn't understand. He was talking in his sleep. I smiled as I pulled off his shirt and pulled on the dress I'd worn the night before. I didn't think he'd mind that I was taking the dress and shoes, but I did leave the jewelry on the nightstand.
I watched him sleeping and thought about how incredible the sex had been. I’d never felt this way about Tommy, and he was the only man I’d ever been with. We’d had our awkward teenage fumbling in the backseat of his car and under the bleachers after the football games, and we’d done alright once we’d gotten married. Sex with Tommy was sweet and gentle, and he always tried so hard to make sure that I was pleased, but it had never once been this kind of unbridled lust that had radiated through every pour of my body and made me feel like I had been shot through with pure sunshine. It sounded cliché, but sex with Austin had shifted something so deep inside me that I didn’t think I could turn back. No, I didn’t want to turn back. I wanted more.
I wanted to wake him up and tell him. I wanted to shout it from the rooftops and tell the whole world how amazing it felt to be wrapped in his arms and to feel him moving inside me. I wanted to sing and dance, but before I got carried away, I had to go home and take care of the situation at hand. I came back down to earth.
I looked around for something to write on and finding nothing, I ran back down to the kitchen where I found a pad of paper and a pen. I quickly scrawled a note for Austin and put it on the counter anchored by our wine bottle from the night before. I knew he would wonder why I ran away so quickly, but I hoped that he'd understand that what I was doing was in order to give us a chance to see if this was real – to see if we could actually turn the perfect day into a string of perfect days, maybe even a lifetime of them.
I grabbed my purse and phone and ran down to the end of the dock where Austin's yacht was moored. I waved at the crew who were working on deck and asked where the captain was. When they brought him up from below deck, I shouted out that I needed to get back to Sydney quickly and he nodded. One of the crewmembers lowered the gangway and I walked on board as the captain powered up the boat. A few minutes later, we pulled away from the dock and headed into the sunrise before veering south and speeding toward the city.
Chapter Forty-Nine
Austin
I woke up and reached across the bed searching for Emily's warm body, but her side was empty and cold. I lay in bed recalling all the details of the night before and feeling optimistic about our chances for having something real. There was something special about her and I knew that I wanted her in my life.
"Em?" I called, wondering if she had hopped in the shower or maybe gone downstairs to make coffee. I realized that there were a lot of things I didn't know about her. Was she was a night owl or a morning person? Does she take anything in her morning coffee? Does she even drink coffee? I called out again, "Emily? Are you up here?"
I got no response, so I got up and pulled on a pair of shorts and padded downstairs to see if Emily was on the deck drinking coffee or having breakfast. I knew the chef came in early, so maybe she'd asked him for breakfast on the deck.
"Emily?" I called into the living room, but got no response. I found her note when I walked into the kitchen to see if breakfast was cooking.
Austin- I have to go home. Tommy called, there's an emergency. I have to go. I'm sorry. Thank you for the perfect day. It really was. -E.
I flipped the note over looking for more, but that was all she'd written. What happened? I wanted to call her and find out, but she hadn't left her number and I didn't think it was appropriate to pull up her personnel file and get her number that way.
What had I done wrong? For a moment, I worried that the sex wasn’t good enough, but when I replayed the evening in my mind, I knew that it was better than good enough. We’d come together in a way that I’d never felt with any other woman I’d ever been with and I knew that she’d felt the same way. The way she’d curled up with me told me that she had felt it, too. Then, what had happened? Why had she left so suddenly?
I made some coffee and walked out to the deck with a cup. The yacht was gone, so she must have gotten the captain to take her back to Sydney. When had she left? And more importantly, why hadn't she woke me up?
Maybe she was regretting the whole thing and now was headed back to her drunk of a husband, but why? Why would she choose that loser over me? What in the hell had happened overnight and how had I totally missed it?
/> I walked back into the house and found my phone on the coffee table. I sat down on the couch and dialed my mother. I hadn't talked to her in what felt like weeks, and I knew she'd probably be around the house right now.
"Austin, honey! How are you?" my mother yelled into the phone.
"Mom, I can hear you just fine. You don't need to yell," I laughed. No matter how many times I told her that the sound on an iPhone was just as good as on a landline, she still yelled at the top of her lungs like she was riding in a car with the top down. For all I knew, she was.
"I know, but I hate these things," she said in something resembling a little more of an indoor voice. "What's going on honey?"
"Not much, I solved the Australian construction problem yesterday," I said.
"Oh good, that bastard Daniel is behind it, I just know it," she muttered. It always amused me how when she started talking about Daniel her voice dropped several levels and she ended up muttering under her breath.
"It's all good," I said. "Whatever he's been doing has been stopped for now."
"He's a snake, Austin," my mother said. "Be very, very careful of him."
"I know, Mom!" I said as I felt the irritation rising. I knew she meant well, but sometimes I wished she'd let the old feuds go and give me a chance to form my own opinions. I had been planning to ask her advice about Emily, but I realized as we talked that I didn't think I wanted her in the middle of this just yet. "What's going on with you?"
"Oh you know, the usual," she said cheerfully. "I'm going to baseball games and doing a lot of volunteer work at the center. And then I go play blackjack with the girls every week. I won last week!"
"That's great, Mom!" I laughed. "How much did you win?"
"I won a basket of fabric samples and two coffeecakes," she crowed with pride. It was an unusual gambling method of playing for crafts and cooking, but it seemed to work for them.
"Awesome," I couldn't stop laughing at the image of my mother throwing down her cards and claiming a coffeecake. "Mom, I have to get going, I just wanted to check in and see how you're doing. I'll be back in New York in a few days, and we can do lunch or dinner then, okay?"
"Okay, sweetie," she said. "Travel safely and let me know when you're back! To the moon and back!"
"To the moon and back, Mom," I said smiling as I disconnected from the call. I hadn't gotten any answers, but I felt better for having talked with my mother.
Chapter Fifty
Emily
When I got back to the hotel, I called Trish and had her help get me on a flight back to the States. It wasn't easy to find a replacement for me on the return trip, but we managed to do it and I packed up my things and rushed to airport. The next flight took off in two hours and I still had time to make it. I thanked Trish, told her I'd fill her in later, and made a mad dash for the plane.
It took me almost a full day to get back to Las Vegas, but once there, I drove home thinking about all the things I was going to say to Tommy when I got there. I thought of the mean things I could say, then quickly discarded them and tried to find middle ground. I wanted out of the marriage, but I didn't want to hurt him. It wasn't going to matter how I said it, Tommy was going to be hurt. My stomach churned as I pulled up to the house and parked my car in the driveway.
My jaw dropped as I looked at the house. The front yard was full of my clothing, my photos, and pretty much my entire life. Tommy had gone through the house in a fit of rage and purged it of all things belonging to me, and now they sat in the front yard. Who knew how long they'd been there or what had been stolen when he'd dumped everything out in the yard.
I stormed into the house yelling, "Tommy Warner! What in the hell did you do?"
"What's wrong?" he asked from a chair in the corner of the living room. "You mad or something?"
"Tommy, what have you done?" I cried.
"I'm sick and tired of you always getting everything you want and leaving me behind," he slurred.
"You're drunk," I said in a flat tone.
"Damn right, I'm drunk," he said as he struggled to push himself up from the chair. "I've been sitting here thinking about all the plans we made and how none of them have happened. Why is that, Emily? Why is it that after you got the new job, we never did anything I wanted to do anymore? Why are you always flying off to here and there and leaving me here to take care of everything?"
"Because I'm working, Tommy," I said trying to stay calm. "I do what I do because we need the money."
"And, why is that?" he slurred as he got to his feet and staggered toward me. "Why do we need all this money, huh? Are you a money hungry bitch?"
"No, I'm not," I said as I took a deep breath and tried to keep my anger in check. "I'm not a money hungry bitch, Tommy."
"Then explain to me why we need all this money that you're earning, will you?" He lurched toward me waving his hand as he tried to make his point. "Explain to me why I have a full time job and am running a second business in back, but you feel the need to go to work and LEAVE ME ALONE! Why do you do it? Are you just that selfish and greedy, Emily? Are you?"
He poked and poked and came at me from all sides as I tried to figure out a way to turn this one-sided conversation around. And then he grabbed me and yelled, "Are you cheating on me? Is that why you're flying off around the world and leaving me here to keep everything together?"
It was the last straw, and my nerves, which were raw to begin with, gave way. I turned and grabbed his shirt and yelled in his face, "No, that's not it at all! I work because you are an alcoholic baggage handler who can't seem to remember to charge enough for a repair job so that we're not in the red for it! I work because someone has to pay the bills around here and keep things going! I work so that I can earn enough money to pay off our debts and put something in savings every month, but most of all do you know why I work, Tommy?" I was screaming at him at the top of my lungs. "I work because I can't stand being around you anymore and I have to get away from this house as often as I can!"
I didn't see it coming. Tommy pulled his hand back and slapped me across the face so hard that my neck snapped and I went flying to the floor. I brought my hand up to my face and looked up at him in horror. He'd never once hit me in the entire time we'd been together. He'd never even raised his voice to me. This was completely out of character, but I wasn't willing to stick around and find out if it was part of his new character.
I pulled myself off the floor as he watched me with a shocked look on his own face. I didn't think it had quite registered with him what he'd done. And in that moment, I knew our marriage was over. There was no going back. We'd crossed over the point of no return and I was not going to give him a second chance.
"Emily?" His voice sounded small and lost. It was a radical difference from the arrogant drunk I'd walked in on an hour before. "Em? I'm sorry."
I gathered up what things I could, and walked out to the front yard where I surveyed the damage and grabbed the things that were of value to me. Tommy followed and stood in the doorway calling my name as I gathered my things and put them in the trunk of my car. I didn't say a word to him. I simply packed my things into the car, then looked up at the front door and gave him a sad smile.
"Tommy, I'm done," I said with a sad smile. "We had a good run, but it's over. And I mean over over. There's no going back. I don't want to be married to you anymore."
"But, Emily," he began. I held up a hand and shook my head.
"We're done," I said as I walked to the car and slid inside. I slipped the key into the ignition and turned it hearing the engine roar to life. I took one last look at the house that had once held so much hope and promise, and then I waved one last time as I put the car in reverse and backed out of the driveway and left my old life behind.
I pulled into the road and shifted the car into drive, put my foot on the gas, and moved forward into my new life.
Chapter Fifty-One
Emily
I sat on a bench in the shadow of the Eiffel Tower and listene
d to a guide telling a group of tourists about the history of the tower.
"The tower was criticized by the 'Committee of Three Hundred,' so named because it had one member for every meter of the tower's height," he said lowering his voice to a conspiratorial level. "The Committee said the tower would dominate Paris like a gigantic black smokestack, crushing under its barbaric bulk Notre Dame, the Tour Saint-Jacques, the Louvre, the Dome of les Invalides, and the Arc de Triomphe and that for twenty years, the city would see stretching like a blot of ink the hateful shadow of the hateful column of bolted steel metal."
"Oh goodness," gasped a woman wearing the classic French scarf tied jauntily around her neck. Her attempt at looking French was not assisted by the rest of her outfit; a pair of bright red skinny jeans, a tight navy blue t-shirt with a scoop neck and an American flag silkscreened on the front topped with a white windbreaker. The camera hanging around her neck completed the outfit in a way that the scarf couldn't compete with.
I pulled my trench coat around me a little tighter and looked down the path at the tall steel structure casting a shadow on the people below it. I had been in the city for several days on a layover from New York and had decided that this time I'd get out and see a bit of Paris. As I looked around, I thought about Austin and how I hadn't heard from him in a few months.
Whatever we'd had in Sydney had died out once I left. I'd texted him a few times to see how he was doing and to try and explain why I'd left so quickly. I still wondered if he'd found my note and if he had, why he wasn't willing to talk to me. I'd told him I'd be back, hadn't I?
What I had noticed over the past few months was that my flight assignments had gotten better and that my trips were to some of the more exotic places on the airline's flight schedule. I'd seen Indonesia, the French Polynesian Islands, and had spent a few nights in Marrakesh, but mostly I flew the route from Los Angeles to London. It was an easy flight with very few disruptions in first class, and I'd gotten comfortable with the routine.