Dirty, Rotten Bastard

Adrienne woke up to an empty house. Billie should have been home by now. He’d never been out for so long before without letting her know where he was. Where was he? She wasn’t usually one for sleeping in past midday, but getting out of bed had been so hard. He wasn’t by her side again. She was used to him sleeping in the guest bedroom down the other end of the house, but not so often and for seemingly no good reason at all. She just wanted to be held, regardless of the bruises. She still knew those hands could be soft.

Billie’s hands were shaking as he entered his own home, terrified of what he might find standing before him as he opened the door. But Adrienne wasn’t there. He could hear the faint sound of water as it rushed through the pipes upstairs, telling him that she was in the shower. He figured he should probably wash last night from his skin sooner rather than later. He made his way down the hallway and through the guest bedroom where he closed the door behind him. He preferred the bathroom in there anyway, and needed to make sure nothing was left behind by Bridget. He didn’t need that kind of conflict, with the headache that was still pressing against his brain growing the more he thought about the whole situation.

He was sure to remake the bed, and to wash the glasses in the bathroom sink that had a thin lining of lip gloss around the tops. That was pretty much the extent of the damage. The physical damage, anyway. He climbed into the shower with those thoughts looming and hadn’t even shampooed his hair before he found himself on the floor of the shower with his head in his hands. He hadn’t cried like that in a long time. What had he done to Adrienne and his relationship? What the fuck had he done?

He walked back down the hall to the kitchen with his towel wrapped firmly around his waist, hiding any marks and scratches that shouldn’t be there. Adrienne was already there, already dressed, making lunch for two. She turned and the softest of smiles graced her lips for a moment, and Billie dropped the glasses he’d been carrying.

Everything flooded back to him – the where, the when, and the why behind his night. She looked away; she looked at anything but into his eyes. He couldn’t stop staring into hers.

“Did I do that?” he whispered across to her, hands shaking once more. She nodded, once, and then turned back around to finish making the sandwiches she’d started on. She could feel the tears in her eyes, but didn’t want him to know how badly he’d hurt her. It was just an argument. They’d argued before, she thought. This time wasn’t really any different.

“Do you want ham or turkey?” That question left Billie Joe’s mind almost as soon as it had entered it. How irrelevant.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Neither am I…” She left the kitchen then, unable to take his presence at that moment. She was suffocating. She needed a place to go where no one could watch her break down. Billie followed her down the hall, catching up to her before she could make it back to their bedroom.

“Get dressed, Billie. You’ll catch a cold.”

“We need to talk.”

“We talked yesterday afternoon and you weren’t interested then.” She saw as he cringed at the memory of it all, and was glad he felt remorse. It was then that she noticed he had an angry bruise on the side of his face, but didn’t remember hitting him back.

“Did you get in a fight last night?” she asked, and his mind went blank.

“Yeah.”

“What for?”

“I dunno. Someone… stole my wallet. Look, we need to talk. I want to talk. I want to apologise.”

“To be honest, I don’t think I can forgive you. Not yet. Not so soon. I need some time, Billie,” Adrienne said, again looking away. “I don’t know if I can trust you,” she whispered, and watched then as his heart broke and showed so clearly on his face and in those beautiful emerald eyes she still adored after 24 years.

“I love you, Addie, and I feel like a… like a bastard for hitting you like that. I was just so angry. I’m still angry.”

“Well that’s not my problem!” she suddenly screamed, and pulled herself from his gaze. She was headed to the front door to go God knows where. He didn’t need her telling her friends all about this. Her friends already had very strong opinions of her rockstar husband, mainly in that she could do a lot better for herself.

“Adrienne, wait, will ya?” he called after her, continuing to follow her outside even after his towel had fallen off somewhere by the door. “Will you at least tell me where you’re going?”

“Why? You never do.” She continued on to her car and got in, but sat there for a while as she thought about where she was going to go. She didn’t feel like company. She certainly didn’t feel like seeing her friends. Billie was still standing there stark naked in front of the car, which might have made her giggle had it been any other day. She drove off with a few places in mind, instead of people.

Billie eventually made it back inside as he realised he was getting cold, and that standing around naked outside probably wasn’t the smartest of choices. Everything felt like some horrible dream. He remembered their fight yesterday and slammed his fist against the living room wall, almost punching a hole right through it but succeeding only in hurting his hand. He’d called her out on looking at another man at the mall. Another younger, fitter man. Did she love him at all, or was she only sticking around for the kids? He recalled their bright, young faces, and was thankful they were on a school camp for the weekend. He wasn’t sure he could explain his actions to them, and wondered if they had to know what he’d done at all. Though Adrienne being who she was would feel the need to explain it to them. He knew she would. She was lovely like that, his Adrienne.