Expectations

After the initial shock of the whole ordeal, I stopped crying. I packed all of Scott's things he had left into a bag and put it in the back of my closet. I threw my robe in the trash can. It was old enough and I've been needing a new one, and I knew I would think of the fight every time I saw the tear. His entire presence in my life had been removed within the hour.

I'm not used to fighting with someone and having him come back. When I fought with my mother like this a few years ago, we didn't speak for months. My father had left home even before I had a chance to fight with him. The time I yelled at Jack had effectively killed what was left of the relationship. I packed Scott's things because I didn't know what else to do.

I felt like a failure once again. I studied my bruises from my accident which still hadn't healed yet; the bruises lasted longer than my relationship. How pathetic.

The next night I heated up some dinner for one, set my TV tray in front of some very bad reality TV, and began to eat. There was a knock on my door and I raced to answer it. It was my neighbor coming by to pick up a package I kept for her. I knew she was coming by, but yet my chest still sank when I realized it wasn't Scott coming to work things out.

Being alone again wasn't terrible; it wasn't bad at all. It's the way I've lived my entire life and I just viewed things as getting back to "normal." Normal being alone. I stirred my potato soup and made a disgusted face at the TV.

Then there was another knock on the door. This one was much softer. I raced back to my front door and saw Scott's lanky figure in the hallway. Hurrah!

When he asked if he could come into my apartment, my chest sank again. I knew things were not okay. And when he asked if I had a minute, I took my dinner off the TV tray and put it away. I knew I would no longer be hungry.

I leaned in to kiss Scott. After leaning halfway up to him, I stopped. If he had to ask to come inside, he probably didn't want to kiss me. I felt foolish thinking otherwise. He leaned his head down and saw me tremble as I debated the kiss before slowly moving in for the peck.

The dog came out from under the bed and slowly approached Scott. She wagged her tail at the sight of him and submissively laid her ears back, her furry feet lightly padding at the floor. Scott reached his hand down to stroke her and she turned and looked at me.

"It's okay, dog."

"See? Momma said it was okay. Come here." She moved all the way up underneath him and wagged her tail some more.

I turned off the TV and Scott began with how we moved too fast with each other. He said he did that once before and the relationship didn't go very well. Unconsciously, I drew my legs up to my torso and moved the pillow in my leather chair to my chest, blocking my heart from Scott. I knew the words were coming. We moved too fast, I can't do this, blah blah blah. My first relationship in two years and it was over in under two weeks.

"We can still see each other. We just have to tone it down some," he finished. I must have made a weird face because he quickly added, "But I didn't even ask you how you feel."

I broke my contact with the floor and looked up at Scott. I think I cracked a smile or nodded because he continued without me speaking.

"I spoke to my boss about everything and he brought up one point that I can't shake. He asked if alcohol was involved in any of this and I said, 'Yes, in all of it.' He wouldn't even let me continue talking, he just said, 'Well there you go. That explains everything.' I can't stop thinking about it. We can't continue like this. One or two beers are okay, but getting hammered every night--it's just not good."

I couldn't believe what he was saying. When Katie came over to sit with me after the fight, she asked if there were any circumstances under which I think I could forgive him. I had said, "No more sex and no more alcohol." Not only has he reached the same conclusions, but he also put just as much thought into the relationship as I had. He said he didn't sleep at all Sunday night. He wants to take this seriously.

"I actually put some thought into that," I spoke up for the first time. "I've already cut myself off and I haven't had a drink since then," I gestured to my Diet Coke sitting where my dinner used to be. "I already decided no more alcohol."

"Well one or two is fine."

"Not for a month. I need to prove that I can do this."

"I don't fight like that, Sarah. The only person I ever fought like that was with my ex-wife. You and I fought like we had been married 20 years."

"I don't fight like that ever either," I mumbled.

"We fought before we knew how the other person responds," he continued. "Now that we know how each other works, let's use a code word so the other person will know to just stop so we don't ever hit that point again."

"Ha, like a safety word?"

"Exactly," he chuckled. "A word that isn't used very often so we recognize its use."

"I vote for 'banana hammock,'" I wanted to lighten the mood.

"We could use 'banana hammock,'" he said, not laughing quite like I wanted him to. "But this word is what I use, so let's use that."

"Okay."

Scott then asked for his phone charger and was surprised when I handed him the bag I packed his things in. He remarked at the bulk of it.

"Wait. Why is this already packed?"

"I didn't think you were coming back," I looked at the ground.

"Aw, it was just a fight. Couples have those."

It made me realize how new to this I really am.

He said we would do dinner soon and I walked him to the door. After initiating the first awkward kiss, I wasn't going to do it again so I was relieved when he extended an arm to hug me and kiss me.