Page 34 of Perfect Strangers


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Veronica sat at the kitchen table, a steaming mug of tea in front of her. She was alone; Greg was asleep in the bedroom. It had been three days since the scene in the parking lot between Jason and Greg. Someone had called the police, who had in turn called for an ambulance, which had taken Greg to the hospital to check for a concussion. He was okay, luckily, but his nose was broken and he had to get three stitches over his right eye.

Veronica had ridden with Greg in the ambulance, holding his hand the entire way. When all was said and done it was six in the evening. They had to take a taxi back because both of their cars were still at the park. The next day Veronica called Greg's work to tell them he wasn't coming in. He slept while she took two taxi trips back to the park to pick up each car.

The days after that had been tense between the two of them. Greg stayed in bed most of the first day, with Veronica giving him Tylenol-3s and bringing his meals in on a tray. They didn't talk about what happened at the parking lot, something that Veronica was all-too thankful for.

Greg didn't go to work the next day either since the swelling in his face still hadn't gone down. Veronica stayed with him at home -- cleaning, making meals, shopping; just like she used to do. Still, she and Greg didn't talk much. That night they went to bed together but curled up on opposite sides, not touching one another.

Now on this third day, Saturday, Veronica had awoken next to a sleeping Greg. She slid noiselessly out of bed and went down to make herself a cup of tea. Sitting at the kitchen table, she was looking out the window, thinking.

She didn't know what to do. What had gone on in the parking lot was terrible, and she felt so bad about what happened to Greg. She had never intended for him to get hurt, emotionally or physically, and least of all by Jason. But now she felt stuck. She couldn't leave him like this, and she hadn't even heard from Jason. For all she knew, he'd done just what he said and had already moved to another town …

Veronica heard the creaking of stairs as Greg descended them. Her heart picked up in her chest. She clutched to her tea, the heat from the mug almost burning her fingers. Greg shuffled into the kitchen, not saying anything, and grabbed a mug from the cupboard. Veronica had already made a pot of coffee, knowing he would want some. He poured some into his mug, spooned some sugar in, and stirred it before coming over to the table. Veronica didn't speak as he sat down, his eyes set on the table.

She watched as he slurped some coffee and set the mug down with a sigh.

"We need to talk," he said, and he lifted his head. Veronica tried not to wince. His right eye was blotched with dark purple bruises, the sharp, dark lines of the stitches protruding out of his eyebrow. His nose was less coloured, but it was bent slightly to the side, swollen a little in size. She swallowed and nodded, keeping her gaze on his good eye.

"Veronica, I've been thinking a lot over the past few days," Greg said. "That fight that I had with ... with him ... it made me realize something that I wasn't aware of before. Something that I had never really even considered."

He blinked and Veronica saw a tear run down his right cheek. Greg grimaced and wiped it away.

"Veronica, I think you should be with that other guy."

Veronica stared at him, sure that she hadn't heard him correctly.

"W-what?" she asked.

Greg let out a breath, looking everywhere but in her eyes.

"When … when I saw the two of you together," he said, "it brought something up in me that I hadn't felt since I was a kid. It was ... jealousy. But it wasn't the kind of jealousy that happens when you see your wife choosing someone else over you. It was jealousy for someone taking something that I thought was mine. It was jealousy because … he had taken something of mine, and I wanted it back."

Veronica blinked at him.

"And when I went to go fight him," he continued, "I didn't realize it, but I was fighting because the kid in the school yard took my toy. It wasn't for you, or for love, or for the sake of this marriage. It was because I wanted my toy back, regardless of what it — or, you — felt. I wasn't … thinking of you as a person, someone who had their own stake in all of this. I was only thinking of you as something that belonged to me. And that was wrong."

Veronica didn't know what to say. She opened her mouth to respond but nothing came out, so she closed it.

"And for the past few days," he continued, "lying in bed and thinking about this, I think I've realized … I think I've realized how much of a piece of shit I am. I ... I don't love you the way you should be loved, Veronica. I don't love you for who you are. I think I was only in love with you because without you, things would be harder. Even when I started cooking and helping out more, I was really only doing it because I wanted to get things back to the way they used to be.

"When I remember the way that guy looked, Veronica, I remember seeing that he was fighting for you. He was fighting because he wanted you. I was just fighting because something had been taken from me, and not even anything I deserve."

Greg lowered his eyes to his coffee. Veronica was almost speechless. She opened her mouth.

"Greg ... I had no idea," she said honestly.

He lifted his head again and looked at her. This time two tears ran down to his chin.

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"I am so sorry," he said. "I've treated you like shit for so long, for years. I don't deserve you. You are so much better than that."

Veronica felt tears of her own begin to well up in her eyes. All of these years, so many of them being stuck in a marriage of routine, of boredom and unhappiness. It was strange hearing these words coming out of Greg's mouth, but at the same time it was relieving to finally find out the truth.

"Thank you," she said, her voice threatening to crack. Hot, salty liquid ran down her cheeks and she wiped it away. Greg smiled at her.

"I think … we should get a divorce," he said, struggling to keep his own voice level. "You need to be with someone who loves you for who you are. Not someone who's going to treat you like garbage."

Veronica smiled, sniffing as more tears fell from her eyes. Greg smiled again and put a hand on her shoulder.

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