Chapter 6

At seven sharp the next morning I placed a cup of coffee in front of his face. I almost gagged doing it, besides the smell of alcohol he’d thrown up at least once and had lost control of his bodily functions. I could see the dark stain across the seat of his pants and had a cruel thought. Maybe he’d get diaper rash. He moaned and opened one eye. I didn’t give him a chance to speak.

I threw down a pair of sweatpants. “Here. Put these on before you come into the house, and DO NOT bring those clothes inside! You can do what you want with them but my suggestion is an unmarked grave in an undisclosed location. Now take a shower, get yourself together, and come to the kitchen. We need to talk.”

I’d woken up and wondered how much of last night was a dream until I saw the card on the kitchen counter. Somehow the card gave me strenght and I tucked it into my bra to keep it close.

A slow blush and tingle crept over me and after thinking about it I had no guilt. Yes, I’d stripped down to my underwear for a total stranger but I’d never felt safer in my life. He had the power and knew it but treated me with reverence and affection. A girl could get used to that. I sighed and put my daydreams away and went out to face the real world.

Mark staggered in about twenty minutes later. I suspect he’d lost what little he had left in his stomach getting out of those clothes. The shower ran for an inordinately long time but I just sat at the table, sitting coffee. He finally dragged himself into the kitchen. The most apt description of how he looked was ‘like shit’, words I never thought I’d use to describe my husband. I got him a glass of water and several ibuprofen.

I let the silence hang a bit before I started.

“Do you have any idea how embarrassed I was last night? I’d hoped to cement friendships, forge a place for us here. That didn’t go to plan, did it? The only reason we’re having this conversation is that you weren’t the one caught with your pants down though I suspect if it had been a bit later you may have. I’ve reached the end of the line here, Mark. You have one more chance to be the man I thought I married. You need to stop drinking so much, stop getting into compromising positions. One more event like last night and we’re through. Do you hear me?”

He was shocked beyond words. I had never spoken so forcefully to him in our whole life together. I think maybe his weakened physical shape may have played a factor in his reaction. He almost cried, promising to do better, to be better, to make sure he never lost me.

And of course, I bougt it hook, line, and sinker.

To reinforce my point I made him gather his clothes and tie them tightly in a large garbage bag. Then he remembered his wallet was still in them, so he had to open the bag and pull it out. He threw up again.