A conversation ...
They called it a red eye for a reason. He didn't sleep on the plane, just stared out at the blackness or focused on the picture he'd snapped on Halloween. Heather kneeling next to their little superhero. How could he have known James for three hours and want to defend him and keep him safe with every fiber of his being? He'd give anything to protect Heather and James. Just like he'd give anything to fix things with Jenny.
Once home, he paced the house quietly, unable to sleep. He knew he and Jen had to talk and the conversation they'd had on the phone was only a preview. Cut for TV audiences. And there was so much he hadn't said because Heather had been crying silently into his shoulder.
Heather wasn't wrong. Jenny was his other half in so many ways. He had never and would never have a better partner. Where he was obtuse, she understood. Where he was sharp, she was diplomatic. He got them out of jams, she got them into them. It was exciting and delightful and perfect. They didn't need to talk - and when they did it usually ended in exciting and terrifying fights that made for great sex and even better fights the next day. No, Heather wasn't wrong. But Jenny wasn't the person he wanted to spend his life with.
At six AM, he gave up on sleep, got into his fleet issued car, and drove to her place, parking on the street illegally but the fleet car let him get away with it. He stopped at the coffee place he liked and got her coffee she liked. His only peace offering. He wasn't the only one making concessions today. Before getting out of the car, he shoved the photo of Heather and James back into his wallet, right next to the ones of Shannon and Kelly.
Slowly, he got out, carrying the coffee, and headed up the steps to her front door.
Once home, he paced the house quietly, unable to sleep. He knew he and Jen had to talk and the conversation they'd had on the phone was only a preview. Cut for TV audiences. And there was so much he hadn't said because Heather had been crying silently into his shoulder.
Heather wasn't wrong. Jenny was his other half in so many ways. He had never and would never have a better partner. Where he was obtuse, she understood. Where he was sharp, she was diplomatic. He got them out of jams, she got them into them. It was exciting and delightful and perfect. They didn't need to talk - and when they did it usually ended in exciting and terrifying fights that made for great sex and even better fights the next day. No, Heather wasn't wrong. But Jenny wasn't the person he wanted to spend his life with.
At six AM, he gave up on sleep, got into his fleet issued car, and drove to her place, parking on the street illegally but the fleet car let him get away with it. He stopped at the coffee place he liked and got her coffee she liked. His only peace offering. He wasn't the only one making concessions today. Before getting out of the car, he shoved the photo of Heather and James back into his wallet, right next to the ones of Shannon and Kelly.
Slowly, he got out, carrying the coffee, and headed up the steps to her front door.