CHAPTER 18

Monica had retired for the night after talking to A.J. and had gotten comfortable in bed when Alan entered their room. He turned on the light near the dresser and began searching for his pills. Monica observed him for a few moments and then asked him what he was looking for. He slammed the dresser drawer shut and turned to face her.

"You know damn well what I'm looking for, Monica! Now, where the hell are they?!"

Need had made Alan a desperate man. He didn't know how he had made it this long without his pills, but he knew he couldn't last another hour if he didn't have them. And he didn't care what he had to do to get them back.

Monica didn't like the tone of his voice or the way he was looking at her, but she refused to back down.

"Have you looked at yourself in the mirror, Alan? Have you seen what you look like? The signs are so evident. I can't believe I didn't see them sooner."

"Shut up!" Alan yelled, moving dangerously close to her. "I don't care what you see, and I don't care what you think. Just hand me my pills, Monica. Right now!"

"I threw them away," Monica told him boldly.

Alan's eyes grew wild at his wife’s words. "How dare you! Those were my pills, Monica! You had no right...." he yelled, waving his finger in front of her face.

"I had every right," she yelled back at him. "Those pills are destroying your life, Alan. What is it going to take for you to see that? Almost killing your son has obviously not done it, so damnit, what is it going to take?!"

"Don't you dare bring A.J. into this conversation, Monica. He has nothing to do with this."

"He has everything to do with this! He could've died because of your addiction, Alan, and I want to know what it's going to take for you to see that!"

"I don't give a damn about A.J., and I'm sick to death of you going on about him the way you do. He could've died many times by his own hand because of his drinking. I want to know why the hell you thought you could throw away my pills!"

Alan's hands reached for Monica; she thought he was going to choke her. For the first time since learning of his addiction, she felt genuine fear and very afraid of what he was capable of doing in his current state. She moved to the other side of the bed and stood up. She tried to make a getaway, but Alan grabbed her by the wrist. She looked down and discovered that he was using the hand that he had earlier complained was hurting him so badly.

"Funny how your hand could feel so much better when you haven't taken any pills." She knew she was incurring his wrath, but she couldn't stop. She wanted something, anything, to penetrate his brain so he could see what he had become.

His grip tightened around her wrist in response to her words. She thought he might have broken it.

"Damnit, Alan, let go of me!" Monica yelled.

"I can do worse than this..." he warned.

"What's going on in here?!" Emily cried.

Neither one realized that the bedroom door had not been closed all the way. Emily stood there, wide-eyed, taking in the scene. When Alan saw Emily, he released his hold on Monica. She took advantage of the situation to grab her coat and her purse and to tell Emily they were leaving. Alan yelled after Monica as she and Emily ran to the car.


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