Tristan Trilogy- Story 3

CHAPTER 75

“What’s the matter with Precious?” Mason nagged over Kevin’s shoulder. “Why is she so upset?”

Kevin could practically feel Mason’s breath on his neck. “Cramps…,” he replied coolly as he flipped through the address book.

“Cramps?” Mason frowned. “More than cramps, I’d say…”

“Don’t worry about it, Mason,” Kevin sing-songed before letting loose with a rather harsh and impatient sigh. “It’s none of your business.”

“Well, hell. I think I’ll go up and check on her. I was going to check on the kids anyway.”

“Leave Tristan alone, Mason. She’s sleeping,” Kevin lied. “I’m just going to call her doctor and see if I can get her some medication to help her rest better. She doesn’t want to be disturbed.”

Mason looked mildly insulted. “You just want me to get out of here, then? I dohave other places I can be, you know!”

Kevin counted to ten, in an attempt to gather his patience. The past twenty-four hours had been emotionally charged and the last thing he needed to deal with was a pissy Mason.

“No, Mason. I’d like for you to stay a little while, if you can.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Are you sure?”

“Christ, Mason! Do you want me to beg?”

“Yes.”

The look that Kevin shot him could have curdled cream but it seemed to have little effect on Mason. He got the point but chose to ignore it. Kevin had bent as far as he was able.

“Okay, then. If you insist…”

*****

Tristan gazed at the small collection of bottles and bags spread out before her. She had arranged them in a straight line across the dresser as her brain quickly filled with possible answers, explanations and more questions. Then she began, from left to right, to pick up each container and hold it front of her face for examination. Another wave of dizziness, accompanied by a strong chill, swept over her but she was unable to determine whether these symptoms were a physical manifestation of her estrogen depletion or an emotional reaction to her shocking discovery.

The zip-lock bag at the far left had been rolled into a cylinder, layer upon layer of plastic obscuring the contents. Tristan pulled off a rubber band and the bag unrolled itself. It contained clusters of dried plant matter – some leaves but mostly dried up buds of a brownish-green color. Marijuana… Although she had never smoked grass, many musicians did – even classical musicians. She had seen it before. She stuck her nose near the opening of the bag and sniffed. The contents smelled sweet, smoky and slightly pungent. I’ve smelled this before.. She wasn’t crazy about the notion of Kevin smoking dope but she wasn’t exactly shocked, either. What hurt was the fact that he had been hiding it and she assumed it was because he felt she would disapprove or react hysterically as if she were a child. Tristan gazed at the line of objects and reached out to pick up a package of rolling papers and a hemostat. She realized right away that the marijuana was the least of it. If that had been all that was in the pouch, she might have been peeved at Kevin’s secrecy. They might have even argued about his usage but they could have come to some sort of mutual understanding. Tristan wasn’t totally innocent about everything - after all, she had essentially lived on the streets for four months when she was fourteen. She placed the three items together at the far end of the display in an attempt to create some logical order out of all this and then moved on.

She picked up a plastic bottle that contained the blue and black capsules. She had seen these before. Librium. She noted that the container was almost full and recalled that there had been fewer pills in the bottle when she had first discovered it. It was apparent that Kevin had used those pills and then replenished his supply. For all she new, he had gotten many refills. This bottle had a pharmacy label attached to it with the name of the doctor who had prescribed the medication. Didgeman…

The next two bottles on the dresser were smaller than the others and each contained a different type of small, light colored pills. They weren’t marked and Tristan had no idea what these pills were. Two amber-colored containers rested next to the unmarked bottles. On the caps was scribbled, in Kevin’s handwriting, Perco and Vico.

At the end of this line of pharmaceuticals was another plastic bag, this one rolled into a tighter cylinder than the first and also secured with a rubber band. This baggie was heavier and denser than the first. Once again, Tristan pulled off the rubber band and unrolled the bag. She gazed at approximately two inches of white powder. Her eyes closed for a moment and as they filled behind their lids, she stood perfectly still, hoping that she was mistaken – that when she reopened her eyes she would discover that her initial perception was wrong. With all the evidence laid out before her, she could only draw one logical conclusion. Still, she opened the baggie, licked her finger, buried it in the powder and then brought the powder-covered finger to her mouth for a taste. Her tongue grew numb. Although Tristan hadn’t had any experience with drugs other than for medicinal purposes, she knew immediately that the white substance in the bag was not powdered sugar, cornstarch, flour or talc. An unnoticed tear tracked down her cheek. It was cocaine.

“Oh, God….”

She returned the bad to the far end of the display and let her eyes move slowly from the cocaine back to the marijuana. How long has he had this? When did it start? Has he kept this a secret from the beginning? Who else knows about this?… A myriad of questions wrapped themselves around her psyche until she found it difficult to think clearly. There had been changes in Kevin’s reactions to things and events over the last couple of years and Tristan tried to think back, trying to pinpoint a time when things began to change. There were some times that ‘stood out’ but they had been patched and mended so completely that she hadn’t considered them unresolved or unexplainable. Her surprise about Kevin immediately shifted to self-doubt. Why didn’t I see this? Why didn’t I know? What’s wrong with me?… Despite the fact that he’d had trouble sleeping, had been experiencing mood swings, had become involved with a new set of ‘friends’ and had lost weight, she hadn’t put any of the pieces together. It seemed so incredibly obvious now.

Tristan put the bottles, bags and paraphernalia back into the zippered pouch and wondered what would happen now. What should she say? How should she say it? On the heel of these questions rode denial.Maybe this stuff didn’t really belong to Kevin. Maybe he had taken it away from somebody else so they wouldn’t hurt themselves or get into trouble… Tristan’s chin began to tremble as her head dropped. She knew that the Percodan and Librium belonged to Kevin. In her heart of hearts she knew that all of these drugs were his.

She pressed the pouch against her chest as she considered whether or not to return his stash to its hiding place. That might give her some time to think – to think about what she should do. Her back was to the door when Kevin re-entered the bedroom. He was surprised to see her out of bed and had hoped she would be asleep. Although he had managed to put aside his overt anger for the time being, he had not forgotten its source and still felt a degree of self-righteousness. In his head, he almost viewed Tristan’s distress as a twisted type of payback that gave absolution to his guilt. She looked so tiny in his shirt and his memory coasted backwards to their tryst on the sand. It was hard to believe that it had happened only yesterday.

“What are you doing out of bed? I thought you’d be asleep…”

Tristan’s raised her head slowly. There was no more time for ‘thinking’. She held the source of her anguish against her body as he spoke and when she answered, she discovered that her own voice was thick and raspy.

“I tried, but I couldn’t… I couldn’t…”

“Get comfortable?” Kevin finished.

Tristan just nodded her reply.

“I called Hiller. He said he’d call in a prescription for you. The pharmacy will deliver it. It shouldn’t be long…”

“Why?” Tristan turned her head slightly as she asked her simple question.

Kevin’s eyes narrowed a bit. He didn’t understand. “Why what, Tris?”

Tristan took a deep breath before answering. She was about to take a step into unknown and frightening territory. She could act innocent and ignorant, giving Kevin the opportunity to excuse his way out of the situation. If she were merely a bystander, it might even be interesting to see whether or not he would lie to her and to hear what he had to tell. But she wasn’t a bystander. He was her husband - the father of her children and the man she loved beyond life itself. She couldn’t give him the opportunity to tell her a blatant lie, because if he did, she would never be able to trust him completely again. Tristan was unwilling and unable to take that risk.

“Why didn’t you tell Doctor Hiller that a prescription was unnecessary?”

“Unnecessary?” Kevin frowned. “What do you mean? I can see that you’re hurting…”

“Yes…” she whispered. “But I don’t need a prescription. I think that you already have several things that will help me…” Tristan turned to face him as she completed her statement. “…right here.”

Kevin’s eyes fell to the black pouch that Tristan held out in front of her. He was literally stunned speechless and didn’t know what to say. After several seconds, his eyes left the bag and slowly traveled up to Tristan’s face. The pain that he saw there was not physical. Her cheeks shone with tears and her eyes burned through him, not accusing but imploring him to offer her an acceptable explanation. Still, he couldn’t speak. There was no acceptable explanation. All they could do was stare at each other.

Another cramp began to twist its way through Tristan’s abdomen. In one swift move, she unzipped the pouch, dumped the contents on the bed and grabbed the amber bottle marked ‘Vico’. Before Kevin realized what she was doing, she had uncapped the white pills and poured several into the palm of her hand. She had lifted the pills to her mouth when Kevin realized what she was doing.

“TRISTAN!”

In two steps he was at her side, slapping her arm away. White pills scattered across the bed and onto the floor but when her grabbed her forcefully by the shoulders he could see that she had something in her mouth.

“JESUS FUCKING CHRIST! What the fuck are you doing, Tris? TRIS!!….”

One of his hands flew into her hair and he pushed her head down, causing her to bed at the waist. As Tristan started to cough, Kevin began to pry her mouth open with his fingers as he slapped her on the back, trying to knock the pills from her tongue before she could swallow them. The frightening scene was over in a matter of seconds and when it ended, Kevin’s hand held five white tablets.

Tristan’s behavior was totally unexpected and had scared Kevin badly. He found himself sitting on the edge of the bed with his face in his hands trying to recover. As Tristan tried to catch her breath, she watched Kevin as he tried to find his. She wondered what was happening behind his large hands. Was he angry? Sad? Defensive? It never occurred to her to consider that he might be sfraid. She knelt down in front of him with difficulty. The cramp was worsening but she had to look into his eyes. Kevin fought her attempts to pry his fingers away from his face. He was still fighting for control, determined not to face her until he was ready.

“Kevin – please…” Tristan whimpered as she pulled at his wrists. “Talk to me…”

Finally, his forearms relaxed and he stared into her eyes. “It’s not what you think,” he said flatly.

His voice was almost robotic and for a split second, Tristan felt that she was looking into the eyes of a stranger.

“What is it then, Kevin? Tell me…”

Kevin huffed impatiently. Jerking his arms from her grasp, he abruptly stood and stomped over to the dresser. He leaned on it’s polished surface and began to speak in measured tones as he gazed at his fingers.

“I’m not a fuckin’ addict, Tristan – so don’t go getting’ all dramatic on me! You knew I had painkillers and tranquilizers. Christ – I’ve had them for two years! Did you ever see me take even one? Do I act like a pill-popping junkie to you?”

“You have more pills than you used to, Kevin. And you have other pills, too. I saw Vico-something. Is that Vicoset?”

“Vicodin,” Kevin calmly corrected. “I’ve had those for a long time. Probably no good by now.” He paused and raked his fingers though his hair, pushing it back off of his forehead. “You know when I got them. The doc had already given me the Percodan but though the Vicodin might be better. That’s all.”

“What are those other pills? The small ones…”

“Just some shit I got in LA. No big deal. Someone gave them to me and I hung on to them. Don’t even know why…”

“Marijuana?” She asked timidly.

“Shit, Tris… Are you really gonna go all to pieces over a little grass? It’s no different that booze. Smoking a joint is like downing a beer. Why, I bet even high-brow musicians smoke a little weed once in a while…”

Tristan didn’t miss the sarcasm. She wondered if Kevin was deliberately trying to make her feel foolish.

“I’m not an idiot, Kevin, despite what you may think,” she said softly. “I just don’t know why you hid it so well. If there’s nothing to it, then why bury it? What did you think I would do – call the narc squad?”

Kevin was a little surprised when Tristan returned his acerbity. He hadn’t expected her to show any spunk under these circumstances.

“No, Tris. I just expected you to jump to conclusions and get all upset – just like you have.”

“Don’t try to twist this, Kevin! I’m not going to be the bad guy in this. You’ve managed to explain away almost everything as if it were nothing. Now I want you to explain away the cocaine…”

Kevin raised his eyes from his fingers and stared at Tristan through the reflection in the mirror. Her voice had developed a distinct edge – one that he hadn’t heard too often. She was sitting on the floor, leaning against the bed. Her arms were crossed and she seemed to be holding her tummy. As he watched her, her eyes squeezed shut and her head fell back. Her breaths had become shallow – she was in pain. Yet, she didn’t call for him. She had paled considerably and beads of moisture dotted her forehead. “Tris…,” Kevin whispered, spinning around.

He was only four steps away from her but he felt himself hesitate. His thoughts were confused and at odds with each other. As much as he disliked this inevitable interrogation and as much as he yearned to help her out of her misery, his heart still needed something from her. Despite the anger and accusations of yesterday and the discovery and fear of today, he needed for her to feel connected to him – to need him. She had separated herself from him and even though he had pushed her away through deliberate meanness and hidden vulnerabilities, he still wanted to be her anchor. Although he was responsible for all of this, she was the only one with the power to stop it.

Kevin wanted desperately to feel her fingers brush against his cheek. The thought seemed so small – so silly when compared to the emotional upheaval of the last twenty-four hours. He wasn’t sure when that simple gesture came to mean so much to him but it had come to represent a tender affirmation of her love. Kevin would rather see Tristan stroking another man’s erection than stroking the side of another man’s face.

Now, he couldn’t seem to move without a signal from her. Call to me, Tris… Reach out for me. Need me, baby….Please… Kevin felt some shame in the fact that his reassurance would come from her pain. Need me in spite of your fear – or even your disgust. Just need me…

CHAPTER 76

One of the white tablets that Kevin had knocked from Tristan’s hand now lay on the floor near her thigh. He stepped over to her and knelt down to pluck it from the rug. She needs this…. Kevin had no sooner picked it up than he felt her hand at his neck, clutching. Her fingers fastened to the collar of his open shirt and she curled them into a fist as if she were holding on for dear life. Tristan’s breath seemed to catch in her throat and on the heels of a sharp gasp came the sob of a simple plea.

“Please, Kevin….”

Please what, Tris? Kevin’s mouth grew dry as he anticipated Tristan’s request. Please get out? Please stop using drugs? Please don’t be mad about the birth control pills? Please make the pain stop? Please don’t lie to me?…

“P-p-please don’t leave me….”

Kevin’s previous anger, defensiveness and fear were pulled from him by the power of those four words. For the first time since he had opened the white compact in Tristan’s bag, he could feel his heart. It was beating after all. Her simple declaration had cracked the door to his soul and the vocalization of her own fear had washed his fear away. Tristan loved him despite his failures. She always had and she always would. At the root of his relief lay her forgiveness. He already had it. The problems hadn’t magically disappeared but they hadn’t destroyed the relationship, either. In spite of the differences that had brought them to this point of pain, their common goals remained the same. More importantly, their love remained the same.

“Jesus, Tristan….”

It was all Kevin could do not to break down. She always gave him what he needed. She had called to him. She had reached for him. Now, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him, pressing her against his heart. They were on their knees, facing each other, holding on to one another. She had given him a large measure of relief and now needed his comfort. He whispered soothing words into her ear as he rocked from side to side. Soon, his shoulder was soaked with her tears but gradually her crying subsided and her fingers relaxed their hold on his shirt.

“Come on, baby… Let’s get you to bed. We’ll finish this later…”

He felt her nod against his neck before lifting her to her feet. As soon as he had laid her down, she curled up on her side, weak and weary.

“I’ll be right back…” Kevin murmured as he pushed away strands of hair that had become stuck to her damp, salty cheeks. Tristan closed her eyes and nodded.

The contents of the zippered pouch still lay scattered across the bedspread. Kevin hurriedly grabbed the bottles, bags and loose pills and pushed them back into the pouch before tossing it onto the dresser. He saved the one white pill, Vicodin, and went into the bathroom where he dampened a washcloth and took a paper cup out of the medicine cabinet.

She was lying perfectly still when he returned but he knew she wasn’t asleep. Tristan felt herself being lifted from behind, this time by the shoulders, and a moment later, her head fell back into Kevin’s arms. His finger was on her lips.

“Open up, baby and swallow this. It’ll make you feel better.”

She let Kevin push the pill into her mouth and then felt the cup at her lips. It wasn’t until she tasted the cool water that she opened her eyes. Kevin was watching her intently, his brows furrowed and his eyes clouded with guilt and worry.

“Drink all of this, Tris. Doctor Hiller says you have to stay hydrated.”

She did as she was told without complaint and when she had finished the water, Kevin wiped her face with the damp cloth. Soon her eyes closed again and she was asleep and pain-free in his arms, only vaguely aware of the slight pressure of his hand wrapped around her left wrist.

*****

After he was assured that Tristan was in a deep sleep, Kevin left their bed and headed for the shower, glancing at his pouch as he passed. They still had much to deal with but it could wait until Tristan felt a little stronger. And until he felt a little stronger. He already knew what the end of this story would be. The drugs would be flushed. Well, maybe not the grass… The coke would definitely be swirled away into the Orlando sewer system. As he let the water beat down on his neck and shoulders, he pondered the afternoon’s events. Damn, there must be over three grand worth of shit in that pouch. Tristan surprised the fuck out of me. I couldn’t even think of anything to say to her. I don’t want her to be upset. I can only imagine what she must have been thinking… But I’m not a bad person! I’m not! Jesus, I can’t stand to see her disappointed in me. I don’t want her to think I’m unreliable. I don’t use that much.

She can lean on me. She can! She’s always been able to. I’ve got to make sure she knows that. There’s a space between us now. Fuck that. It can’t be that way. She’s afraid. That’s so ridiculous… If she stays scared, she’s gonna distance herself. She’s done it before. That’s how she copes – how she survives. She told me once that she had to learn not to ‘need’ anyone when she was younger - that the risk of disappointment was too great – and too painful. ‘I found out that if you don’t need someone, they can’t hurt you,’ she said. She could close herself off enough that she doesn’t need anyone. I’ve seen her do it and almost succeed. She did it when she caught me with Lily. It’s almost a natural reaction for her. It’s how she protects herself. What would I do if she stopped needing me? If she stopped needing me, she would stop wanting me. I wouldn’t exist anymore… I need for her to need me…

I’ve got to make sure she knows that this shit is not a threat to us. Sometimes I just gotta be sharp, that’s all. It’s social. It’s not a big deal, really. She’s just heard too much shit that isn’t true - stuff on TV. She’s seen these people that act strung out all the time – people who can’t sit through the evening news without doin’ a line. She’s afraid I’ll get addicted or something. Ha! That’s a laugh! I’ve got a pretty damn high tolerance. I know what I’m doing. I control the shit – it doesn’t control me. That’ll never happen. Not to me….

It already had.

*****

When Kevin came downstairs, he found Mason and the children on the floor of the family room digging through a large box of miniature furniture. Just behind them sat a huge, three story dollhouse. Kevin could see that furniture had already been placed in some of the rooms. Mason and the children were so absorbed they hadn’t heard him come down the stairs.

“That’s some house,” he said loudly, announcing his presence.

Three heads jerked his way and the two smaller mouths began shrieking. Ben and Mallory jumped up from their play and ran to their father, each grabbing a leg with one arm and reaching up to him with the other. Laughing, Kevin took their hands a lifted each of them slightly so that each pair of bare feet rested on one of his feet. Then he began to walk and he continued to hold onto their hands. The twins were delighted. This was almost as good as piggy-back.

“Nice house…” Kevin nodded to Mason who still sat on the floor. “Where did it come from?”

“We went shopping this morning,” Mason said as he smoothed the dust ruffle on a tiny sofa. “The kids really seemed to like it, so I bought it for them. I hope you don’t mind. It’s rated safe for kids under three.”

“No. That was nice, Mason.” Kevin chuckled as the twins scooted off of his feet. “I guess Mallory won the toy battle this time. We like for them to get things they can share but usually the things they pick out together are more gender neutral.”

Mason suppressed a smile. Should I tell him or not?….Hell, yeah!

“Actually, Kevin, Ben is the one who got all excited over the doll house. He really wanted this thing.”

As if on cue, Ben picked up the ‘Mommy’ doll that came with the house and began to dance it around the tiny kitchen located on the first floor.

“Cook, cook, cook…” he sang, already lost in his own little world.

Kevin’s forehead creased. “What do you mean? Are you telling me that Ben wants to play with dolls and shit?”

Mason rolled his eyes. “I didn’t say anything about Ben playing with ‘s-h-i-t’, Kevin. He just liked all the little rooms and furniture and stuff.” Mason couldn’t resist feeding into Kevin’s stereotypes,. “Maybe he’ll be an interior decorator some day…”

Kevin’s eyes shot from Ben to Mason and back to Ben again.

“Yeah, well… Maybe I’ll get him some Army men or something next time.”

“By all means!” Mason returned sarcastically. “Guns and war are much more appropriate for a male child!”

“I just want my children to be well-rounded, that’s all!” Kevin said defensively, crossing his arms.

“Sure….” After a moment of silence, Mason decided to change the subject. “Is Precious coming down?”

“She’s asleep,” Kevin answered, glancing towards the stairs. He turned to go into the kitchen and then stopped. “Mason,” he said hesitantly, “I know you have a life apart from us but would you mind staying until tomorrow? Tris should be feeling better then.”

“I was expecting to stay until you came home anyway, Kevin. I don’t mind. I’ll keep Ben and Mallory straight and you can watch out for Precious. How does that sound?”

“It sounds perfect. Are you sure you don’t mind?”

When Mason didn’t answer right away, Kevin turned to face him. Mason was staring at him. He looked serious.

“I don’t mean to get all mushy, Kevin and I hope I don’t sound too melodramatic but it feels kind of good to be needed.” Mason began to turn a little pink. “I don’t expect you to understand that,” he chuckled self-consciously.

“I do understand, Mason,” Kevin returned sincerely. More than you realize…

*****

Tristan slept on into the evening. Kevin checked on her several times to find her resting comfortably, barely moving. It looked like she may sleep on through the night. At eight, he took the children upstairs, gave them their baths, read them a story and tucked them in, explaining that they would see Mommy tomorrow – that she had a sick tummy. Kevin yawned. He was tired, too. It had been another hell of a day and so, after saying goodnight to Mason, he decided to call it a night. It was still early by Richardson standards – just past nine PM.

Tristan had rolled over and was facing his side of the bed now. Her legs had stretched out from her body and she looked relaxed and pain-free. Kevin wondered if their legs would tangle after he joined her. His shit was still on the dresser. Sighing heavily, he picked up his bottles and bags and took them into the bathroom. There, he emptied their contents into the toilet at began what was to become a series of flushes. When he had finished, the only thing that remained was a little less than ˝ ounce of marijuana. His drug disposal mission hadn’t been as painful as one might have thought. The fact was that he felt, on some level, that he making a grand gesture of sorts – a sacrifice for the woman he loved. He refused to acknowledge that one of the reasons that the sacrifice hadn’t been so difficult for him was because he was in a position where he could easily afford to get whatever he wanted. Not that I want it. I don’t really need it… He had never bothered to add up what he had spent on drugs and drug related activities in the last two years. It was not just the drugs, themselves. Often, when under the influence, he had lost large sums of money in high stakes poker games with ‘friends’. Bidding became reckless when $500.00 chips were thrown down between lines of coke. He would never admit that his judgment had been affected but he had been talked into financially supporting projects that had subsequently gone bust. These projects, ranging from restaurants to independent films, had mostly been the brainchildren of his Los Angeles associates – the ones Tristan didn’t like. The ones who had frequent parties and access to a cornucopia of encapsulated and powdered delights. The ones who were using him.

Kevin stepped out of the bathroom, stripped and climbed into bed. He didn’t snuggle up close to Tristan as he normally would have. He didn’t want to wake or disturb her. Instead he turned so that they were facing each other and there he lay for several minutes, gazing at her face as she slept. He was so tired. He was so needy. Sleep didn’t find Kevin until he felt her calf move against his knee. He shifted, and when he did, Tristan’s leg slipped unconsciously into place between his. Contact. He was able to sleep.

*****

Tristan’s eyes opened slowly in the darkness. Her first awareness was of her leg, sandwiched between Kevin’s thighs. She heard his deep, regular breaths and when her vision became accustomed to the lack of light, she could see his face just inches from hers. It occurred to her that there was something unjust about a man having lashes that were so long, dark and thick. Occasionally she could see his heavy brows try to knit together as he frowned in his sleep and mumbled incoherently. Then his face would relax again.

Tristan slowly withdrew her leg from his and pushed herself into a sitting position. She felt hot and sticky from tears and sweat and suddenly craved a shower. Kevin was sleeping soundly now and so she got out of bed carefully and made her way through the darkness to the bathroom, stopping on the way to get a clean pair of panties and a ribbed cotton tank to sleep in. The shower felt so good beating against her skin. The water was cool and after the initial shock, she began to feel refreshed and alert. She was also torn. She wanted to finish her conversation with Kevin but he was exhausted.

She dried off quickly and rubbed lotion onto her arms, legs and hands. She had to pause for a moment as her uterus knotted into another cramp. It wasn’t so bad – not like the earlier ones had been. She was still only spotting and fervently hoped that one of the potential side effects mentioned by her doctor, heavy bleeding, would pass her by. The chills, heat flashes, dizziness, nausea and cramps had just about done her in.

When she bent down to pull up her panties, her eyes fell to the trashcan beside the sink. The small can was half full. We just got home… Upon closer inspection, she saw that the can contained an empty plastic bag and several empty pill bottles. Tristan let her mind race to the obvious conclusion. He dumped it. He got rid of that shit… Hoping for some kind of verification, she lifted the seat of the toilet and peered into the bowl. A small, gelatinous blob had become stuck near the rim. It was blue and black – the remains of a Librium capsule that had not yet dissolved completely. Tristan felt herself sigh, not even realizing that she had been holding back a breath. Then she took a tissue and wiped away the remains of the capsule before flushing away the evidence. As she slipped into her tank, she wondered if it had been difficult for him to dispose of his stash. It was a win/win proposition. If it had been easy, it would mean that he wasn’t ‘hooked’. If it was hard, it meant that he was willing to stop.

*****

When Tristan crawled back into bed, she found that Kevin had grown restless in her absence. He seemed a little agitated and his breathing was labored. He had pushed his hand into her pillow. His fingers had curled into a tight fist.

Tristan lifted his hand, slipped back between the sheets and gazed at the shadows that formed his face. She loved him so much that it almost frightened her. She had actually believed at one time that she could rid Kevin of his demons. Maybe she had helped to eliminate a few but she had come to understand that, ultimately, he would have to exorcize himself. She would always try to be there for him to catch the overflow when his frustrations threatened to spill over. Sometimes that simply meant listening. Other times it meant submitting. On occasion, it might also mean a bruise, abrasions or bites inflicted in the heat of furious lovemaking. Tristan sometimes wondered if there was something wrong with her. The telltale evidence of Kevin’s abandon almost seemed like physical evidence of his love. She was rarely aware of her slight wounds until much later and it was at those times that she realized that she had willingly allowed Kevin to guide her across that fine line that separated pain from pleasure.

She raised her hand and gently drew her fingers down the side of his face. She could wait no longer. It was time to talk – to finish what they had begun earlier.

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