"Parker. Please." She pleaded. He sat at the edge of the pavement, rubbing his sore feet. She placed her hand on his shoulder, but Parker shrugged it off. Violently. His eyes were red and teary, the ugly result of one too many beers. She saw a tear slide down his cheek, and gently wiped it away with her thumb. He didn't resist this time. "Oh, Parker." She whispered, turning his eyes to face hers, and brushed a stray hair from his eyebrow. Somehow she thought to herself, how did the gentle man she married years ago end up like this? Money, definitely. 

The resignation took a much heavier toll on him as she expected. But he wanted to come home, to spend time with her. That was why he left his job from across the seas. To be with her. Didn't he? 

His vehement coughs startled her back to reality. He looked like hell, he really did. The first two buttons on his shirt came off, no doubt from the dude-pay-up-or-shut-your-mouth shirt-pulling incident earlier on. Parker could sometimes be a butthead, and try as she might to work on it with him by accompanying him to countless anger management therapy sessions, he wouldn't budge. It flowed in his veins, that temporary but vicious anger. Not that he ever hit her, but when it came to anyone else but her, man fight was an attempt to prove bravery. Pathetic, she thought. But men were men, and if there was anything they could do to make someone show some respect, fists were the firsts on the list. Tonight was supposed to be a decent dinner organised by the company Parker applied (and hoped for acceptance) for work. He let it slip through his fingers by gambling almost half of the house mortgage and 2 years worth of food supplies. She told him to "Stop this nonsense right now Parker, don't be a fool." That set him off. "Fool? You're calling me a fool?" followed by tables turning upside down and glasses smashed against the walls. Eventually, after running for what seemed like half an hour, here there were on the pavement, two people illuminated by the moonlight. 

This is the man she loved the first day they met. This is the man she spent her afternoons having ice cream on the beach with. This is the man who burnt toast and made her mornings bright. This is the man she discussed babies' names with. Paige, Riley, Roxas. The man she wanted to see last at nights and the first in the mornings. The man she vowed to spend an eternity with. In good times and bad, in sickness and in health. In this case, in sober and in drunk situations. How did it come to this?

"I'm sorry." She heard him say, feeble and helpless. "I'm sorry. This. This isn't how we talk."  He struggled to place his tired hands on her cheek, before drawing her close and kissing her on the forehead. Gently, just like the moment he kissed her on their wedding day. Just like every other day he did. Soft, and gentle. "Don't leave me." His eyes were glassy, scared even, but she recognized him through it. Silences speak a million words but one, and speak it through her eyes, into his heart, she did.

"I won't leave you, sweetheart. Not now, not ever. If you're gonna scream at me for 5 hours straight out of the lifetime I promised God I'd spend with you, I'll take it. Nobody's perfect, and as cliche as that may sound, it's true. We tried, baby. You tried. You tried your hardest to make things work for the both of us. Some events are inevitable, but the inevitable isn't impossible to overcome. Some days, things don't go as well as we planned. But we always pull through, don't we? You sometimes act without thinking, and that pisses me off. I feel like pouring the disgusting juice you bought from the store, all over you and your gorgeous-hair head. A pain in the ass, that's what you are. Half of the time. But I sealed this agreement of a lifetime with a kiss. And you are officially my pain in the ass for, like it or not, an entire lifetime of financial problems and overdue bills. Guess what? I don't mind. I'd go through all of this with you, every single setback and banter. I loved you for you, and still do. Whatever tantrum you might throw, or household items you might send flying through the window because of the outrageous temper you have, I'll take it. We'll work this out sweetheart. For better or for worse."

And just like that, he read her like magic. And just like that, he took her hands in his and brought them to his lips, thinking about the anger management therapy sessions he was going to double up in taking and the lifetime he'd be able to kiss her. Just like that.

♡ Letter to a Lover #2
♡ Block the road
♡ Fresh beginnings
♡ Letter to a Lover
♡ Inspired by "The Lucky One" - Nicholas Sparks
♡ Liebster Award!
♡ 27112013 - Letter Day
♡ Working on it.
♡ Easy-to-make Beef Lasagna
♡ Just a li'l something