Left In The Dark

Chapter 20.3

He got up from the table, taking his plate with him and headed over to the sink. I hurried out of my seat and made my way right over to him. He was scraping his scraps into the composter and turned on the water. Lightly touching his back, I apologized. He stopped what he was doing and faced me. He shook his head.

"No, no you're fine." He reassured.

"I don't know why I keep upsetting you like this." I muttered before rubbing my temples.

"You don't upset me Beyoncé really."

"You don't have to answer the question." I reminded him that he had a choice.

When he was done with his dish, he took a seat atop of the counter and clasped his hands. I stood off to the side, leaning against the counter myself. I studied him wanting to read his mind. If only I had Dr. Union's skill of detecting body language. Upon that thought, I observed him closer. His arms weren't wrapped around himself and his shoulders weren't hunched over like Gabrielle always pointed out about me doing. Actually he was seated upright. Shoulders were lowered but not slouched over. Face: mouth was lightly closed in a lateral line, eyes casted downward. His expression was soft. I don't think he was mad. But he certainly wasn't happy. God I wish Gabrielle was here at the moment to work her mystical powers and tell me what to look for. Even in my attempt to pay attention to the detail of his posture, I still just saw a man sitting on a countertop.

I reached over and touched his leg and he glanced at me. He readied himself to talk.

"It's one of the things the bothered me the most." He responded absently, swinging his legs.

My mouth slightly parted at my astonishment. I would have taken it that his wife and daughter's death was the main source of his pain, based on the way he reacted last night.

"Why is that?"

He sighed. "Because we weren't on good terms the last time I saw him."

He scratched the back of his head and then slid his hand over his face.

"What happened between you two?" I quizzed.

I had hopped onto the counter alongside him and imitated his swinging legs. My attention never left him.

"Like I said earlier, he had a hand in helping me cope with my dilemma and I was doing pretty well. I stopped drinking and went back to work. I was fine.

"Mmhmm" I hummed.

"A few years later I went out to visit him in California. It was the same weekend that would have marked my 10 year anniversary with T. I don't know why, but it was in that particular time when it really hit me that she was gone forever and I wouldn't have any more years to share with her. To celebrate with her. So I had relapsed. I drank everything I could find at Jay's condo. And he came home and saw me laying there completely gone. He must have gotten frustrated. We began to argue and it got heated."

"Then what happened?" I encouraged when he took another breath.

"We got into a little fight."

I covered my mouth and lightly gasped as the worst crossed my mind. Was he responsible for his death too? He looked over at me like he heard what I was thinking and he looked at me puzzled.

"It was nothing serious; we pushed each other around a bit. I think he punched me once." He explained.

My face relaxed, feeling relieved and somewhat guilty for hoping to that conclusion. "Did you hit him back?"

He shook his head no. "I was so drunk. I could barely even stand straight let alone fight him. But after the altercation I remembered that I left and stayed at a hotel and then went back home the next day. That was the last time I spoke to him."