Read Twenty Four Weeks - Episode 25 Part One - "Thirty Six Part One" (PG) Page 1


Twenty Four Weeks – Episode 25 Part 1 – “Thirty Six – Part One”

  Written by J.D.Denisson.

  A sequel to the movie “This is Where I Leave You”.

  Characters and back story based on the novel “This is Where I Leave You” by Jonathan Tropper.

  Copyright 2016 J.D.Denisson.

  Previously…

  The elevator doors close behind us and we’re standing in her apartment. Its dark, only a single lamp illuminates the lounge room. Shadows dominate the air.

  “Well,” I say, “I should get going.”

  Quinn turns quickly and throws her arms around me and I’m trapped against the cold steel door of the elevator.

  “Make love to me, Judd,” she says and kisses me hard.

  My head is reeling. I want her so badly. I want her more than anything in this world. I need her. She needs me. But this is not right for us, not now, not any more.

  I push her back slightly. “I can’t,” I say.

  “Can’t? No! Take me!” she demands.

  “We’re friends.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Sorry,” I tell her gently.

  And I feel suddenly guilty, because even though she’s broken our marriage and my trust, I’ve done the same and she doesn’t know about it. It probably wasn’t a good idea to tell her right then, but I’m a fool and the words just come out: “I slept with someone.”

  …

  “I’m an ass,” I tell her.

  “No you’re not. And you know you’re not.”

  “I said that I’d call you. I said that we could have a future together.”

  “Yes. But things change, Judd. I know that. You’re not an ass for doing the right thing when you have to make a choice. I just want you to have a happy life. If that’s with Quinn, then I’m happy for you.”

  I sigh. “Quinn and me...” I begin. “That’s a long, hard road.”

  “That’s just life, Judd.”

  “It is?” I was hoping that at some point my life would not be hard, at least for a while.

  …

  “You don’t need to protect me, Judd. I’m a big girl and I can handle Wade. I need you to trust me.”

  “I do. It’s just the weekend was pretty heavy, and I didn’t want to tire you.”

  “Really? Or did you say no so that you don’t have to face seeing me and Wade together in the same room.”

  “That might be the reason,” I admitted.

  “Well, you’ll just have to man up, won’t you? I’m not going back to Wade. I’m never going back to Wade. So, I’m going to call her back and tell her we’ve changed our minds.”

  …

  Grant says: “Do you have anything you want to say to Quinn, Judd?”

  My wife sits up and turns to me and we’re face to face. I can see the effect of my infidelity. Her eyes are red, liquid, searching.

  Back then I was alone and hurting and I hadn’t been loved for a long time. I believed Quinn’s love had been false, and it made everything she said and everything that she did a lie. The gifts she gave me were a diversion. The sex was a duty. The words of love were just words. Then Penny came and she knew where I’d been and where I was and that I was broken. She loved me more in that one afternoon than I had been loved for over a year and I loved her for that. But it was brief, fleeting, like a wispy cloud. And I didn’t regret it, at least not until I had seen the pain it has caused Quinn. No matter what she had done, I still betrayed her, and that hurt me deeply.

  …

  I take the box out and sit back down. I’m hoping there are old birthday cards or blank Christmas cards, or car insurance papers – anything I’d be happy with, just not what I find inside it.

  There are photos in there, on the top. I’m not in them. Quinn is, and Wade. New Year’s Eve -when I caught them on the balcony. I recognise her dress. They’re posing innocently, but I know they’re not. They’re not innocent at all. There are other photos, from other places. There is one where they’re at a restaurant, smiling like the perfect couple. I can see her wedding ring – the one I gave her – still on her hand. The next photo has me almost breathless. It’s taken from a phone, taken from above by Quinn herself. They’re in bed, naked. Sheets cover her breasts. It’s a motel. She went away last year, for work. Wade was away too and there was no work for me. She told me that I’d be bored and didn’t want me to come. Now I know why. There are letters. I can see Wade’s handwriting clearly. I read a few lines and nausea comes over me. There are movie stubs, a dry single rose, some items of expensive jewellery that was way out of my price range. There is a ring with a diamond, something like an engagement ring, but not quite.

  …

  “Please, Judd,” she cries. “Let me explain all of this. Please, look at me.”

  “But I can’t look at you. You make me sick to the stomach. This makes me sick to my stomach. Do you want to know what I did when I saw all of this? I vomited. I literally vomited. And I can’t listen to you anymore. I can’t listen to your lies.”

  “Judd, I’m sorry. I’ll throw all of this away.”

  “Do what you like,” I tell her angrily. “I don’t care anymore.”

  “You could talk to Rex with me. Please.”

  I shake my head. “Talk? The people I talk to are either dying or lying. Which one are you?”

  I push past her, grab the bag that I’ve packed, three days of clothes. She’s leaning up against the table, she’s shaking, she’s sobbing. But I’m too angry to care. The door closes behind me, and I’m gone.

  Thirty Six – Part One

  Monday

  4.20pm

  I didn’t make it into work. I called Kenny and got him to cover me. I’m too emotionally volatile to handle Wade and the callers. I slept in the car last night, on the street. I didn’t sleep well. It was bitterly cold and I could still see the contents of the box before me. Even now I still see the evidence of her betrayal mocking me.

  I go up to see Wade in his hotel room in the afternoon. He’s spending his time there, he’s missing Chloe. I hope he’ll let me sleep on his couch tonight. Tomorrow is another day. I’ll think of something else tomorrow.

  I knock on his door, room 713. I can hear a voice behind it, muffled. The door opens. Wade stands there, smiling. Then his face changes. Was it guilt? Sadness? I can see his bed. It’s made. On it sits a red box, opened, its contents peeking out. Next to it sits Quinn. She sees me and shakes her head, starts to cry again.

  “Tell her we’re done,” I tell him and walk away.

  “Wait,” Wade yells after me. “This is not what it looks like.”

  But I don’t care anymore. I don’t care what it looks like. I don’t care what it is. The truth is that she loves him and not me. They’re together because Chloe is out of the way and now me. They deserve each other. And I don’t deserve to go through this again.

  6.15pm

  When I found them in my bed I didn’t yell at her, I didn’t call her all the names one thinks of at those times. I can remember what I said, every word, like it was yesterday.

  I’m coming back in an hour to get some things, I said coldly without looking at her. Neither of you better be still here when I do.

  When she told me about our baby and accused me of hiding my feelings I did not yell at her, I did not call her names.

  And there it is: I was shut down and I did not express myself. Now I’m open, now I communicate. Now I yell. Now I accuse. Now I feel. And, once that door has been opened, there is no closing it. But right now I can
’t face doing that, and so I do what I’ve always done: I run.

  I have nowhere else to go except for back home to Elmsbrook. I don’t tell my mother what has happened, I don’t tell Wendy. They know I’m hurting. They know Quinn has hurt me again. They can’t help. No one can. Grant can’t help. He’s dead and buried. Dying or lying.

  I’m in my old room, not in the basement. The house is full now. Wendy and her kids have moved in, back in her own room and Paul’s. I don’t come down for dinner. Wendy brings it up to me and tries to get me to talk but fails dismally. She hasn’t seen me like this. After the first time Quinn did this to me I stayed in my flat, avoided going home because of the shame. Now I have no choice.

  My phone is ringing constantly. Quinn. Wade. Quinn again. Over and over. The calls are unanswered and eventually the both of them get the message and stop. Jen doesn’t ring me this time. I have to be thankful for small mercies. I don’t need her judging me again.

  Tuesday

  6.53pm

  I’m still angry the next day. I’m angry enough to do just about anything. I drive around the town, trying to diffuse my rage. I drive past the ice skating rink and I know what I need to do. I need to finish this. I need to put an end to this whole sorry business.

  Penny’s car is in the driveway. I sit there, looking at her front door for something like an hour. I’m trying to build my courage. I’ve rejected her and now I come back. I have some explaining to do.

  I walk down her path and she opens her door. She’s seen me from the window. Maybe she thinks I’m a stalker. She stops when she sees it’s me.

  “Judd