“Late Coming Home”

Raine heard the car door slam and stopped her pacing. She looked at the clock on the wall – just past midnight, and Adam was just getting home. As he made his way up the steps and stumbled through the door, Raine was there waiting on him.

“Where have you been? I’ve been so worried about you! I thought you said you were just going to be a little late tonight! I called Arthur, he said you’d returned with the two vehicles hours ago!”

“Fuckin’ limey bastard should mind his own fuckin’ business,” he mumbled, swayed a bit on his feet, then headed for the kitchen.

Raine was right there on his heels following him. “Are you... drunk? Oh my God, Adam... did you actually stop off at the pub before coming home? I was worried sick with all that’s happened today!”

“I wasn’t at the fuckin’ pub,” he snapped at her, rummaging through the fridge and pulling out a bottle of VB. He popped the top on his and downed about half of it before setting it down on the counter.

“How can you stand there... drinking a beer... and tell me you’re not drunk?” she asked, “Adam, you’re eyes are beyond bloodshot, so don’t try and lie to me. Why wouldn’t you just pick up the phone and call? Colin got his girl to take him to the hospital a couple hours ago. He said half the town is there because of that shootout. I was worried sick that you had gotten in an accident, too, or... worse.”

Adam looked up at her, his face full of anger, “I’m not fuckin’ drunk and I’m fine, as you can see, so you don’t have to worry anymore.” He picked up the bottle of beer and downed the rest of it in one gulp, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then stormed out of the kitchen and down the hall to their bedroom.

Raine stood watching as he slammed the bedroom door, her arms wrapped around herself, tears streaming down her face. This wasn’t Adam, this wasn’t the man she’d fallen in love with. This wasn’t the man she’d married. Something was going on with him, something was... off.

Wiping her tears, she headed down the hall after him, paused outside the bedroom door, afraid to enter. She’d been in relationships in the past like this; she didn’t plan on sticking around for another one if this was the case.

She hesitated a moment, then slowly opened the door a crack and peeked inside. Adam was sprawled on his back on the bed, his shoes and shirt off and pants undone. He’d apparently passed out in the process of undressing.

Raine stood over him for a moment, deciding how she was going to get him over on his side of the bed. Finally, she bent over him, her tiny hands wrapped around his shoulders, trying to pull and roll him over from the middle of the bed. His arms came up, pulled her down on top of him, his lips and hands moved clumsily over her face and body.

“No! Adam, stop! Not like this,” she told him, pushing him away.

He rolled over, taking her with him, awkwardly pulling at her clothes – his eyelids mere slits.

“Adam, I said no,” she told him again, managing to push him away and slid out from under him.

He mumbled something again, then rolled over and went to sleep. Raine laid there, looking at him. Angry and hurt, she got out of bed and headed for the living room.