It's Definitely Not All Mary Poppins

The Best View in the World, Eh? (5)

"I have."

"No, that's not - " He took a nervous inhale of his cigar. "You asked before. Tell me to tell you what happened."

Matthew turned his eyes to him. "Why is Eli here?"

"Eli's dad – John – he was between jobs. I invited him and Lin – my sister – to a work event. I wanted to help them. I wanted to help them. Eli was still young, and I wanted to make sure they were okay. I even invited them to move into the house when Pippa and I were done renovating. But that night was...awful. It was dark, and foggy, and something had happened before they arrived. They were distracted, and Lin and John wanted to leave early. They wanted to go home to Eli, but I wanted them to stay for a little longer. Just a little longer. I thought I was helping them, and we – my last words to them were angry and I wanted them to stay." Jun's jaw trembled. He inhaled his cigar like it was the only air he could possibly breathe. He held it between his lips, jaw tensing before he let it out. "If I had just gotten them to stay. If I managed to convince them to stay for a little longer, they could be alive."

"Why is this fucking house - "

"Pippa was angry. She was depressed, tending to a baby, and we now had Eli. My parents didn't want him – they were too far away, and I wanted Eli to stay close to where he was growing up. I started working from home to help. I tried to learn to cook. I did as much as I could. I tried to keep track of doors that needed to be locked. I – I was trying, and I was so tired. I had to go into the office sometimes. Pippa wanted to go back to work. She wanted it so badly, but I didn't want her to. I thought...we were going to get through this, and we were going to be happy by the end of it. So amazingly, stupidly happy that people would look at us and wonder if something was wrong. We were going to get a nanny. We were..." He trailed off, and for the longest while, emptiness was the only sound between them. "And then...I came home from work one day. Summer. The house was so hot. It was like...stepping into an oven." He paused again. The pace of his words were sluggish, as if saying them out loud was such a shock to his system. "Lilliana was...she was almost two. She was screaming. Covered in spit-up and...diaper so overflowing that she'd gotten a rash." He let out a shaking, nervous breath. "Elliot had gotten into the liquor cabinet. He'd...he'd downed a bottle of chocolate liqueur and half a limoncello. Smashed two bottles of wine." His eyes were wide, glowing with tears. His hands shook. "I...called her. She wasn't in the house, so I called her. So many times, but she didn't pick up." He swallowed thickly, covering his mouth to hide the obvious horror and pain in his voice. "They...I thought something happened to her." Jun wiped his face with his hand, finally turning his eyes away. "They almost took them. Elliot's stomach was pumped, Lilliana was treated, and I...almost lost them." He covered his mouth.

Matthew turned to Jun, still silent.

"She called two days later. Two days. Two days of trying to reach her, of her daughter and nephew in the hospital. She asked for her things. I asked why she left our children alone. They...she must've been gone for hours before I came home. Maybe it had been some kind of breakdown related to her postpartum. I don't know. But she told me she'd gotten her job back, and wanted her things." He glanced to the horizon, wiping his face with the back of his hand, trying to compose himself but failing. His posture was curved and his expression was still too messy. "We divorced shortly after. She didn't fight for custody. As soon as it was over, she left." Jun turned back to Matthew, his eyes tinted red and his face contorted, stretched, and glossy. "I was so angry. I don't think I've ever been so angry in my entire life. I don't remember being so angry and so suffocatingly sad before. I thought I couldn't breathe at times. My parents – they arranged the goddamned marriage, and I thought we were well-suited together, but they blamed me for it falling apart." He looked away, holding the cigar to his lips but not taking a breath.