Never Again

I woke up to six messages on my answering machine. With no clear memory of my night, I pressed down the delete button and waited for the red display to say zero.

With that behind me, I pulled out a pack of Marlboro's and went out the front door. It was just 11:30, and the sun was hitting my front porch in a way that made me want to go straight back to bed. My head pounded with every inhalation of my cigarette and my muscles screamed protest as I perched myself on the railing of my porch.

I finished the cigarette and squished the butt under my foot. As soon as I got through the front door, I pulled all the shades shut and sat down on my couch in the dark. Well, as dark as I could get the living room at 11:30 in the morning. My eyelids felt heavy and my headache got worse with every breath I took.

A little later, I was awoken by the door swinging open, letting in a flood of light.

         “...what the fuck...?!”
         “Are you sleeping again?! God dammit Harry, you slept all fucking night and morning. Stop drinking so much, you’re going to kill yourself.”

I looked at the clock; it was already 5 in the evening.

         “Hey, Jules, calm down. I ain’t gonna die anytime soon, so don’t worry ‘bout it.”

I got up and started walking to my bedroom.

         “Harry, come back here! Pick up this disgusting mess in the living room. I’m sick and tired of having to throw all your shit away for you.”
         “I’ll get it later.”

I slammed the bedroom door and plopped down on my bed. I could hear Jules in the kitchen muttering to herself about what a bad husband I was and washing the dishes I left crowding in the sink. With each clink of a dish in the dishwasher, another part of me felt guilty. But even though I wanted to go out there and tell Jules I loved her and that everything was okay, I couldn’t. Partly because I just didn’t want to move.

About an hour later, I heard her footsteps outside my door.
         “Harry, come out. I need to talk to you.”
Jules always needed to talk.
         “You come in here. I ain’t gonna move.”

The door opened slowly, letting in all the light from the hallway. I’d been in the dark for so long that it startled me. Angered me, almost.
         “Jules, shut the fucking door. You lettin’ all the damn light in.”

Slowly, she shut the door.

         “Harry...” she got quiet. “I been thinkin... You don’t love me no more. At least, you don’t act like it. And I don’t wanna stick around so I can be your maid or somethin. Because I love you Harry, but I can’t just sit back and watch you destroy yourself like this--”
         “Ah, fuck, Jules. Save your bullshit. Who is’e?”

I knew she was cheating on me again. That whore.

         “My boss, Harry. He loves me more’en you do. And he ain’t some stupid broke ass drunk who sleeps all day and don’t care ‘bout his future.”

I stood up and looked her square in the eye. She was serious this time, that cheating lying whore.

         “Harry...”
Right then, I just slapped her. Straight across the face. A good one too. One of those ones that rings in the air even after you made contact and everything’s all said and done.

I watched as Jules’ eyes filled with tears and the right side of her face burned red. She made her way around me and grabbed a small suitcase. She stuck in some underwear and a couple changes of clothes. Then she just walked out.
The front door slammed seconds later.
And then I took my usual spot, right in front of the tv with a cigarette in one hand and a whiskey in the other.
Except this time, I knew she wouldn’t be coming back.