The Great Escape: Scars

{Look in these eyes; we know each other like our own skin and bones. We know the scars, how they got where they are, in places no else knows.}  

After the confession, I composed myself and began piling everything onto the platter for an easy clean up. My first thought being to wash everything, but I only ended up pushing everything onto the counter and walking back into the living room.  

When I sat down on the couch with a sigh of relief, I felt a bubble of emotion come to the surface. They were no longer tears of sadness, but of relief that somebody else knew my secret.

I was amazed that every minute that went by, that I felt lighter and more carefree. At the same time, I felt exhausted as I rubbed my hands over my face.

It had been a couple days since the banquet, and since that time, I couldn’t tell my husband about what had happened. I couldn’t bear to utter the words about me almost being responsible for destroying his career—not just once, but twice now. The only difference was this time around—my little failure had actually turned our marriage around and pulled it into a different light.

Yet, I still didn’t know where we were at. I knew that if I told him, he would want to send me back to a facility: to receive treatment and rid of all my drug habits.

I knew that he loved me, but his job always came first. And if that meant supporting me at a distance— that would be him looking at the big picture. But the more I thought about it, the more it made sense; every time I received the support from my friends, the more empowered I felt. The more I didn’t feel like I needed a fancy private facility to mask my troubles in, because money didn’t matter as much as friendship.

And it certainly wasn’t rocket science that I had realized this all so suddenly. When that friendship and trust clicked into place, I suddenly began to wonder what I had taken for granted all these years.

Like usual, I had been thinking about this way too much. My eyes grew heavy and before I knew it, I was staring across my living room in a daze. It took a few minutes to wake up, and everything seemed fine until I stood up and had a lightheaded moment.

It disappeared just as quickly as it came, and I went into the kitchen to wash up the dishes. One by one I washed every cup and then the pot; drying it and storing it back in the cabinet.

As I was working on dinner, I heard the door open and my husband slipped into the house. He placed his keys in the bowl that we kept by the door, and appeared dressed in uniform.

Smiling, I went back to stirring the food as he padded into the kitchen. “Something smells good, because honey I’m starving.”

“What you smell is my world-famous quiche. Long day?”

He took in a sigh, and it was right then that I knew that it had been. Actually, it almost seemed like a rhetorical question to ask, but he took in a deep breath and answered anyway. I knew that he couldn’t really give me the specifics, but I was amazed that he gave me more than a one worded answer. “Like you couldn’t believe.” Stepping towards me, he kissed me on the cheek. “I’m going to take a shower. I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

“Okay.” I leaned in, savoring the feel of his lips against mine: rough yet so tender. It had been so long since we had a meaningful kiss in our relationship and it felt so good, but still not enough. 

Kevin had really been trying since the night of the banquet—to be more supportive, to give me space and to understand me more. We hadn’t really talked about it since then, but I knew that he really meant it, just by the little things that he was doing every day.

I had known my husband long enough, to know that putting off his work was never an easy thing. As a result of it was the first time that he had shown up in the kitchen to have a meal together.

As I slid the quiches into the oven, I realized that it had been a pretty quiet meal; neither one of us knowing what to say, and yet it had been so long since we had last communicated.

Letting out a sigh, I wondered if this would really last. If we would go through with visiting Savannah. If he would make good with his promise when just a week ago, there was absolutely no way that we could get away. The banquet had seemed to change so many things, without either one of us realizing why that was.

For me, it had been friendship. I had never thought that I would have ever been accepted; that I would have felt more human that I did now. For Kevin, it had allowed him to realize that I was just as much as a part of his life as his work.  

Setting the timer, I poured myself a glass of wine and stepped out onto the patio. The warm air and silence felt good as I sat down in a reclining chair and watched as the trees swayed in the breeze.  

I glanced at the timer every so often, and heard the door open behind me after about ten minutes later. My husband was now dressed in a grey army shirt and beat up jeans.

“The quiche already in the oven?”

“For about ten minutes. It has at least another twenty minutes to cook.” I took another sip of wine. He surprised me again and pulled the other chair, closing the gap and sat down.

He took the glass into hand, and took a few sips before handing it back to me. “You’ve been kind of quiet since I got home. You still feeling sick?”

“I’ve just been thinking—about our trip and seeing Patrick and Sophie again. It’s just been so long since they’ve seen us happy. Since we’ve actually gotten away—” Noticing the look on his face, I had almost believed that something had come up and changed his mind.

“It has been awhile, hasn’t it?” He rubbed his thumb across his forehead a couple times, and then dropped his hand to the side.

“I can’t remember a time when we weren’t going on a trip that had to do with the army—having our kids away from us going to college.”

“How about the end of this week?”

“I think Claudia Joy and Denise are having surgery on Friday, so I offered to help with the FRG meeting.”

“You know that we’re competing against her husband for the third star.”

“They’re our neighbors, Kevin!” I pointed to the house beside ours, and took a rather large gulp of wine before standing. “And if you haven’t realized it yet. . . I’m okay with that.” With that being said, I went inside the house without another word.