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Hell of a Woman
Posted: Mar 26 2012, 04:58 AM
Member No.: 28
Joined: 1-February 11
March 20th, 1869
He had been up since three this morning, stocked his store and restaurant in Denver before riding the train back to open the bank at nine, he was exhausted to say the least but he was always exhausted unless he took something to make him sleep. He was not at that luxury last night since he had to be up so early and couldn’t risk taking anything that would knock him out for twelve hours so he tossed and turned for hours only managing a few bits of light dozing here and there. In short, he hadn’t really slept in twenty-eight hours, was not only not thinking clearly but having a little trouble focusing despite his seemingly dutiful appearance working on his papers. But not even his wife’s harsh words could remain clouded over by his lack of sleep, ‘at any cost.’ He looked up at her a little concernedly at that, what did she mean exactly? Surely she didn’t mean to leave him, he could play it cool for a little while but after it all built up like he had just told her, he would break and things would get really ugly, really fast.
She went on to essentially say he had changed and she no longer saw the man she had fallen in love with. But it was true, happy endings didn’t last forever and Henry had known this his entire life. There was no such thing as happiness for him, anytime something was going for him it was ruined at one point, took a nose dive until he was at the lowest of lows again and back in the mind numbing liquor. What she had to say was true but it hurt him. He had promised to stop drinking but good lord if she knew what kind of shit he was in now she would kill him, but it was only temporary, just until his shoulder was better. The doctor had told him to take it before bed to cure his insomnia but only if he had about ten to twelve hours to devote to sleep and so far it was working wonders. But if the house caught on fire or someone broke in he would be shit out of luck.
Bella’s hopelessness at their situation hit home, she was giving up on him and it was that same old story all over again. The people he counted on would only take his shit for so long before they walked out on him, and after that he usually just picked up everything and moved on, to another state to escape it all. Lay down roots, find a fast woman and make a few bucks here and there before moving on again. But how the hell could he do that now, he was married with a kid and had a fairly good sized company? Maybe he could turn it all around and get everything back, maybe they could get back to normal but the way Bella was talking, that chance had come and gone, he had missed it. Well that was uplifting and if he didn’t think he could sink any lower Bella went on to warn him about physically abusing his son . . . was she comparing him to the man he hated most in the world? The threat on his life was barely noticed as he dropped his gaze to the floor, swallowing back the lump in his throat before looking back to her. He had indeed been depressed lately but that glassy look in his eyes wasn’t always from tears, but at the moment it was as that tickle in his sinuses stung his eyes, “How could . . .” he swallowed thickly again like he was choking on his words and slowly got to his feet, approaching her cautiously like his emotional state was in danger of being further damaged. Still regarding her with that hurt expression he had no right to even begin to defend himself for her words since he had shown his tendency to get violent when he was drunk but still, it was a low blow. He wished his father had been a drunk, maybe then it would have seemed at least a little more justified for him to have beaten him the way he had. The sad part was, he was sober, never drank just hated him for no reason what so ever, hated him for breathing, hated him for his individuality, hated him for being alive, for being born. He shook his head at her a moment looking down at the floor with his hands on his hips, “Ya know when I said . . . this all felt like a dream? . . . I’m startin t’think . . .” the banker drew a deep breath and couldn’t finish, looked back up at her and shook his head again before turning slowly on his heel and walking to the door, didn’t even look back just opened it and descended the stairs headed for the livery, “Where ya headed Mister . . . okay well have a nice . . . day.” Molly called across the floor as he went out the doors, she got no response, Henry couldn’t hear a thing.
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