"Ok, sir. Enjoy this lovely evening weather."
The last time I got off work early, Ruth had a miscarriage. I remember that day. It was a day very similar to this. I had awaken to the sun pounding on my eyelids. I can still smell the bacon Ruth was cooking in the kitchen. It was the last breakfast she ever made me. I took a hot shower. I dressed in my first handmade suit that is still hanging in my closet. I went out to the kitchen. "Good morning my love," she said as she put my food on the table. We kissed. After I ate, I went into the bedroom to grab my briefcase. "I'll be working late tonight babe," I called. "Again, Jacques? I want you home with me, I'm cooking your favorite," she pleaded. "You know I have to work hard, it's not just the two of us anymore," I say as I knelt down to her stomach, "we have a strong boy we must rise. He deserves the world." I kissed her stomach and headed out to leave.
"I love you." she called.
"I love you too."
I was at work until 5:30 when the phone rang.
"Jacques, please come home. Come home now. Something is wrong."
I hung up and ran to my car. I can still feel the afternoon sun. It felt like a million heat hands were pressed down all over my body. The sweat clinged to my new designer shirt, ruining any image I possibly had before. But that didn't register at this time. I got into the car and pressed down on the gas. To this day, I have never arrived home so quickly. I ran into the elevator to go our pre-penthouse apartment. When I arrived at the apartment, I did nothing but burst through the doors. I remember the panic I felt as I looked around to see where she may be.
"Ruth! Ruth!" I looked around the kitchen, the living room. "Ru-" I looked down.
All I remember was the blood. Little spots of blood trailing into the bathroom. I followed.
And then I saw her.
Crying, in a puddle of blood on floor with a look I have never seen upon her face.
Hopelessness.
"I don't know what happened, Jacques. I don't- I don't..."
In my head I knew I should have knelt down, taken her in my arms and comfort her. I knew I should have tried to take her to the hospital or re-assure her that everything would be OK. There were a million things that I knew I should have done. But the moment I saw Ruth in the puddle of my dead son, my heart closed. For the first time, I had no control over my body or my mind. And I hated it. She made me lose control. She killed my son. She was the reason for the worst moments of my life. And I would never forgive her.
I walked out of the bathroom and sat on the bed. We stayed that way for the rest of the night.
The next morning, I awoke. I took a cold shower. I dressed and left. That was the beginning of the nights spent late in the office. We no longer slept in the same bed. Our home was filled with silence. Soon I got involved with Dirty Harry and his boys. And then I was in too deep. It didn't matter at that point what Ruth tried to do to pull me back to us... I was gone for good. It wasn't until the building collapsing that Ruth finally pushed away. I was no longer the man she married and she realized that day that I never would be. But where she fell in weakness, I gained in strength.
And after years of resentment and aggression, today would be the last showdown.
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