Yesterday is gone

And pay it back or else

The saucy romantic mood was set. Skip was curled up MatPat's lap, making it impossible for the man to move. They were in a cushy den, sitting on a couch that was normally used for writing episodes. The both of them were snacking on some popcorn and Diet Coke that had been laying around the house. A half finished puzzle was sprawled out on the table, and a space heater was gently warming the two of them.

Clearly a night of passion was ahead of them.

Stephanie let out a shaky breath as she sat down. "I never wanted to tell you this," she admitted.

"You wanted to hide it from me," Matt shot back, taking out his frustration by petting the cat gently.

The woman sighed. "In a way, yes. It wasn't you. Think about it, does it even sound like you?"

Matthew paused. He had to agree, it was hard to believe. Even as he was being told all of this, he couldn't imagine himself doing any of it. "No. But I'd still like to know."

Steph took picked up a Diet Coke and drained half of it in preparation. "Right," she muttered to herself. "The fall down of Matthew Patrick."

*

Stephanie quickly swiped her phone and took the call. "Stephanie Patrick," she answered.

"Hello Mrs. Patrick?" the voice on the other side of the phone stated. "We are calling about the loan your husband took out from us?" 

"Who is this?" Steph demanded, becoming much more confident than she felt.

"My name ain't important," the man replied, his subtle Italian accent coming through. "But I'll tell you what is. Your husband took a lot of money from Big Ned, and he isn't been paid back yet. Now, Big Ned doesn't like to loose money, and since he's so nice to give you the money as is, he'd like the money back now."

The female theorist nearly had a heart attack at his statement. "Wha- You- It- No." The information was completely new, but Steph was doing her best to keep her cool.

"Well I tell you what. It'd be a terrible shame if somethin' were to, er, happen to Matthew if you didn't pay up."

"Is that a threat?" Stephanie asked, trying to get him to admit on record.

"No, no, no," the man cried. "I'm just sayin' it would be pretty... ironic if somethin' happened to Matthew when he didn't pay up. And he hasn't taken much by comparison to other of Big Ned's customers. So, Ned is in need of an example, and MatPat would be first on the list."

And with that, the man hung up.

*

Stephanie found her husband at the craps table. They locked eyes on her way up to him, but he just ducked his head and tried to bet more discretely.

"What are you doing here," he demanded as she walked up, his eyes not moving from the table.

"I've come to get you," she replied.

"I'm busy," he spat back. He rolled the dice and took some winnings.

"No you aren't," she hissed, pulling on his arm. "We have to go right now."

"I have to stay here," he fumed, shaking her off. "I need to make back some of my money."

"You won't make it back here," she pleaded. "You need help."

"I need you to leave me alone," he snarled. "I'm actually making money here."

The dice fell. Matt lost everything except five chips.

"You only have 100 dollars left," Stephanie pointed out.

MatPat grabbed his chips and huffed away. Steph chased after him. "Where do you think you're going?" she asked to him at the entrance.

"Another casino," he seethed, spinning on his heel.

"Why?"

"Why!?" MatPat exploded, "you ask me why? Because you've utterly embarrassed me at this place. I have no dignity left here."

"Dignity?" Steph yelled back, "you've put us 2 million dollars in debt, plus how much you owe to that loan shark, and you're talking to me about dignity? I'm your wife, and I'm not even sure how much you've spent!"

"Don't throw that on me," Matt ranted. "I'm working to pay all of that back. Sure, I can't do it all at once, so I take out half a million from a loan shark to help me. In the meantime, all that you do is just interrupt any winning streak because you're 'concerned about me'; let me tell you this: I! Am! Just! Fine!"

"You're not! You've been at here every day of the week. And you're killing the both of us with your addiction. You're addicted, Matthew. And every time anyone tries to help you, you push away. But you need to help to-"

"There you go with that help again. Maybe you just can't understand that I'm making more money at this casino that I am anywhere else. So what if I'm getting in debt in the short term? You aren't seeing the big picture, and the big picture is this casino."

"You and your Goddamned casino!" Stephanie swore. "I hate this fucking casino, I hate what it's done to us, and I fucking hate you!" That last part accidentally slipped out, and as the anger drained from her, she saw what her words had done to Matthew.

That was the point that could've turned everything around. They could've used that as a reason to examine the issue at hand, Matthew could've come home, they could've had a normal year. However, that did not happen.

Stephanie remembered exactly what happened next. She remembered it well for two reasons. One, because every morning after for eight months after the event she woke up in a cold sweat from a repeat of the situation in her mind. Two, because time slowed whenever she saw it happen.

Matthew was standing at the end of the curb, half on the street and half on the piece of concrete that counted as the curb. A man in a hoodie ran up to Matt and put a gun to her husband's temple. There was a gunshot. The man pushed Matthew into the street before running away. MatPat's body fell backward where it was slammed into by a bus. The bus tried to stop, but it was too late. Matthew flew through the air and his head slammed into a fire hydrant.

All Stephanie remembered was standing in shock, watching her husband bleed out on the concrete. The paramedics told a different story. They told of a woman who calmly directed an ambulance to the casino. They told of a woman who performed CPR on her own husband to save his life. They told of a woman who calmly explained details when the emergency personnel arrived. They told of a woman who rode in the ambulance, kissing her husband's forehead and weeping into his hair.

The paramedics told the story of Stephanie Patrick. But Stephanie, couldn't remember an ounce of it.

*

By this point CatPat had moved to the storyteller's lap. Steph couldn't hold back the tears that were flowing by this time, but Skip reached up and nuzzled her chin to comfort her.

"It's a miracle you weren't paralyzed," she sniffled. "When they told me you wouldn't remember anything, I was almost relieved. But then... well..."

Matthew scooted close to his wife and gave her a big hug. "Thank you," he whispered. "I know that was hard for you."

"I don't want you to go back to that," she begged.

Matthew kissed her nose. "I won't. And you can hold me to that."

As they cuddled up close, it was clear what was on everyone's mind. The gambling had taken a toll on both of them, even if they wouldn't talk about it. Silently, they both made a promise that gambling would never take something away from them ever again.

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