A Friday Night Like This

Vic

I watched Kellin leave. Now was my chance. I went into the bathroom and found my knife which was sitting in the small bin. I ripped off the bandaging he had so neatly and caringly wrapped my arm in, exposing the harsh strokes. I took out a pen and a piece of paper, and wrote what I hoped to be my final words to him.

Kellin

The scenery around me changed as I drove to Dr Mason's house. I had talked to her about ten minutes ago, and she had told me to meet her at her place. I pulled up the driveway of a neat, white side board house. It was one of those perfect, fairy tale houses to a T. There was a white picket fence with rose bushes growing along the inside. The lawn was short and not a bare patch was to be seen. There were no weeds either. It was a double storey, with the windows surrounded by frothy white curtains. In golden letters next to the door is the family name - Mason. Talk about fancy. I walk up the pebble stone path and ring the doorbell.

Dr Mason answers the door, welcoming me in.

'If you go to the lounge room, I'll just make you a cuppa. Tea or coffee?' She asks, her signature knee length floral print dress becoming confused as to which direction to head in as it swirls about her slender legs.

'Coffee, please.' I say, feeling out of place in my dark skinnies, my favourite Toms and an old Anthem Made shirt. Her house is light, with light green and blue walls and a mix of holly and ash furnishings. The lounge room had floorboards and a shaggy rug sat under the table and couch. The table was ash, and the couch was beige with light green and blue cushions which complemented the light, airy feel of the room perfectly.

'Coffee, thanks. One sugar, no milk.' I replied, sitting down on the couch. I looked at Dr Mason's walls. I didn't mean to pry, but there were a lot of photos. There was a fireplace in the lounge room, and the mantle barely had any room left thanks to the numerous pictures and frames covering the surface. On the walls were different green and blue compositions, evened out by the black and white photos.

'Do you like my photography?' Asked Dr Mason, returning with drinks and biscuits.

'This is yours?' I asked, surprised.

'Yes. Photography is a hobby of mine.' She said, eyeing the prints fondly.

'It's beautiful, really. I'm not just saying that because their yours.' I said, accepting my coffee.

'What's happened with the clinic?' I asked Dr Mason. She sat on an arm chair and sighed.

'It's a lot of confidential information that I'm strictly not allowed to tell you, but I can say that it's under new management. I'm assuming Misty told you that I was fired yesterday?' I nodded, and Dr Mason took a sip of her tea before continuing. 'Well, the new manager - I think his name is something like Precipitate - was very intent on finding out who you and Vic were seeing. Our contract says that we cannot reveal that information to anyone without your permission, and so he fired every counsellor and got a new batch in immediately. You would think that he'd been planning this for a while.'

I listened intently, my eyebrows furrowing. Didn't I know someone who's name was similar to Pringle and Precipitate? I mentally shrugged it off. Misty wasn't even sure. She was just hungry.

'I'm sorry about you being fired. That guy must be a real jerk.' I said.

'Its okay. Business was getting low. I was going to help you and Vic and a few other clients then I was out of there. I'm looking for a residency closer to the the city. More people, more marriage problems, you get the picture.'

'And thank you for not revealing it was you who we saw. I'm not sure I trust this guy.' Dr Mason laughed.

'I'm sure he's a nice guy. Just give him a chance.' I said. Dr Mason just looked at me. 'Or maybe that's a bit of a long shot...' Dr Mason laughed.

'How has it been since our last session?' She asked. I gulped.

'I would rather Vic tell you himself, but I've been okay. He hasn't forced me to sign the papers or anything. But I wouldn't put it past him in his current state.' I fill in a few more details.

'Is there any way we could possibly arrange a session for sometime this week? Whatever time that suits you, of course.' I asked, finishing my now lukewarm drink.

Dr Mason look relieved. 'Thank you! I'm glad that I still have one client. How about ten tomorrow?'

'Sounds good. How much?' I asked, getting ready to leave. Dr Mason led me to the pristine hallway.

'Payment isn't necessary, really.'

'Come on, you're helping me keep my husband. It's the least I can do.'

'Well then, we'll arrange a price tomorrow.' Dr Mason gave me her signature smile. I walked out to my car and drove home, the twisting roads confusing me a little bit.

I pulled into my driveway and unlocked the door. The house was eerily quiet. My footsteps echoed through the steady structure.

'Vic?' I call, checking out the kitchen and lounge room. He isn't there, but I spot a stack of papers on the kitchen bench. I walk over and flip through them. There's at least ten back-to-back pages of his messy scrawl with litle drops of blood dotted over them. My heart catches in my throat as I skim through some of his words.

I know that I'm not good enough... I don't deserve you...

I come to a long passage. Whereas the other pages were mostly words which had been scratched out, this one made some actual sense.

Kellin. I have more words than I could ever write in what I want to tell you. I want to tell you that I love you, that you're my everything. But I can't. I've always been honest about how I feel about you, but I've lied. I've lied our whole relationship. Our whole marriage. And it's eating me up inside. I can't take the pain that I am knowingly causing you - even though you are yet to feel it. I can't stop. It's my drug. The truth is, there's someone else.

I stopped breathing. I didn't feel heartbroken, or sad, or any other emotionals people would probably feel if their significant other - one of the people they trusted most in the world - was abusing that trust, tainting their relationship by being unfaithful. I felt numb. I calmly read the rest of the passage, my heart pounding seemingly slower. My breath was slower too.

I can't imagine what you're feeling. But I'm sorry.

There were tear stains of the page, smudging his already disorderly print. I managed to make out the next few words.

I had to stop it. I couldn't live with the guilt. You were always so nice, so blinded by love and uninformed. My feelings for you have never changed. Not even when I was with him. The day I proposed to you, I promised myself that I would stop cheating. I would only be loyal to you. I lied to myself. I fooled myself again and again as I kept on going back to him. Never when I was sober. When I was shit-faced and drowning in my depression and self-loathing was the only time he appeared. I don't know how he did it. There were always signs the day after I had betrayed you though. Fresh cuts, starving myself. A multitude of things that you have probably picked up on. I'm sorry, so I'm letting you go. Have a nice life without me.

I traced the next words with my fingertips. Unlike the rest of his pen strokes, these were carefully done. Measured. They made almost no indent on the sheet, whereas the others sometimes tore through.

I love you.

A single tear of my own joined his many. His wedding ring was on the bench next to the papers. I picked it up and ran my thumb over the engraving. I needed to find him. I ran through the house, shouting his name. I came to the bathroom. There was more red. It was his blood I knew it. I didn't want to look at the bathtub where he surely lay. I held my breath, trying not to breathe in the sickly sweet scent of blood.

Notes

A/N

Title cred: Chelsea Smile [but I seriously doubt you care right now]

And seriously, how many hints do I seriously have to drop? All will be revealed next chapter! And the strangers identity... And seriously, if you haven't worked it out by now you must be stupid or something. Or highly unaware and just reading this fic cuz it's interesting. [not judging you if you are]