I Think I've Had Enough

Chapter 93: So I Guess This Means We Can't Be Friends

While Patrick had gone to check on the girls and find them something to eat, Ellen stayed in Patrick's master bedroom. She had done her best to occupy herself on her phone before finally giving in and wandering around the room. She slide off the bed and came face to face with her reflection in a large mirror. Patrick's t-shirt fell just below her butt. She fluffed her hair and fiddled with the key around her neck. It was then that the photo on the night stand caught her eye. It was Patrick and Jillian. They must have been in their late twenties. For a moment, Ellen wondered what happened. They looked so happy. A sickening feeling tingled across her skin. Had she been what happened?

She padded to the large dresser in front of her, several family pictures staggered across it. Ellen ran her finger along the frame. From the kid's ages and Patrick's gray hair it looked to be a couple years old. Again, they looked happy. Had she come into his life twice to tear his family apart? Failed the first time so came back for a second go?

Jill's perfume collection was displayed on a silver tray. Ellen picked one up and smelled it. Soft, romantic, she was still trying. Although it may have been her worst fear, Jill didn't see this coming. She didn't know Patrick was going to ask for a divorce when she returned. She was oblivious to the fact that he had been making love to Ellen for the last 24 hours. In their bed. In their shower. Would he even leave her? Is this just the trick the other woman always fell for?

Ellen's thoughts raced. She slipped her jeans out and searched the bathroom for her socks. This was too much too soon and her mind was teetering on the line of a very dark place. When she couldn't find them she returned to Patrick's dresser. "Damn it," she mumbled trying not to let her emotion get the best of her. They already had. She searched his drawer for a matching pair. Who doesn't sort their socks? As she reached the bottom a stinging pain stopped her index finger. "Damn it," she repeated again. She tied to suck the stinging sensation away. It was a paper cut. She pushed the socks aside in search of the culprit. Hidden in the bottom of the drawer was a discolored piece of paper. It appeared to be blank. Ellen picked it up slowly scared to discover what was on the other side. The panic she had been feeling faded as her eyes focused on the picture. It was a picture of them. It must have been in there for years. They were cheek to cheek as they usually were, dressed in black. It must have been some sort of cast dinner. She couldn't remember but what she could remember is holding back the laughter long enough for someone to take the picture. She could remember the way he smelled. She could remember just how much he irritated her. He drove her absolutely crazy, with his eyes and his hair and his ridiculous comments. He was rarely serious. It was simple, what she could remember is how absolutely in love they were, even then, all those years ago.

The door startled her as it clicked open. Patrick caught her sheepish smile, "What did you do?"

She flashed the photo to him, "You kept this?"

Patrick set his tray of food on the bed and revealed a glass in his pocket. "They're actually hidden all over the house."

"Stop it," She question him laughing.

"I'm serious," Patrick spoke firmly. He poured Ellen a glass of wine, "For the first few years after the show Jillian would throw them at me when she found them." He sat on the bed and sipped his wine. "Check that night stand. In the drawer under the book."

She paced to the drawer and lifted the book. To her surprise there was another small photo. This one was from an awards show. It was the year Ellen wore a purple dress. They had taken the photo together just before Ellen realized that he had brought Jillian.

"Don't' you get it?" Ellen threw her hands in the air. "It's always going to be this way."

"What way?" Patrick pretended to be oblivious. His puppy dog eyes sparkled.

"You're talking to me right now," Ellen spit, "You are standing so close to me... because your wife isn't here." Her voice quivered but her anger continued, "we're back stage and she's in an audience full of distracting people."

"I'm supposed to just leave her at home?" Patrick's tone switched to frustration.

"No, Patrick," Ellen rolled her eyes, "You're supposed to pick a side."

"Pick a side?" He scoffed at her childish phrase. "El, you're my friend."

"Friend," her long dress swished as she turned away from him, "We can't be friends." She called out as she walked down the hallway.

"Why this one?" Ellen looked to Patrick. "It wasn't a very good day."

Patrick tilted his head and admired her beauty, "That's exactly why."

"To torture yourself?" Ellen raised her eyebrows.

"Until six months ago they were all to torture myself." He paused again as she crawled onto the bed next to him. "You said pick a side. It's there to remind me I picked the wrong one." He cleared his throat, "And to remind me to be smarter if I ever had the chance to do it all again."

In the quiet house, they were in a world of their own. The past and the future had begun to overlap. He stared into her eyes embracing his chance to do it all again. "why didn't you call?" Ellen's question surprised them both.

He touched her perfect face, stroking it with his thumb, "because I was an idiot. I was scared and by the time I was numb enough to not be scared... you would have never answered my call." His gaze falling to the ground.

"You're probably right," She grinned.

"What's with the jeans?" He asked squeezing her thigh.

"I can't just parade around here in your t-shirt all day," Ellen's tone playfully firm.

"Umm," Patrick whined, "Why not?" He pulled her across the bed by her legs. Her contagious giggle filling the room. Patrick leaned over her to kiss her plump lips. It was a soft perfect peck. "You're beautiful," his hands brushing her arms.

Ellen's skin tingled, her breath shallowed. The magnetic force pulling them closer once again. She sat up suddenly, "Ut Uh," she shook her head, "No way. You sit over there. Tray of food between us." Patrick started to laugh boyishly. Her eyes lit up, "Is that a giggle? Are you giggling like a little girl?" He continued to laugh. She quickly caught it. The joy they experience was one that could never be replicated. It was the ease of that moment that made them appreciate the journey that had brought them here.