I Said Yes

by Kiersten Modglin

  Vic was a busty brunette who wore way too much eyeliner and not enough of a top. She looked me up and down as I did the same to her. “Mark, what for?”

  “I’m his wife,” I said, trying to remain cordial. “And I can’t get ahold of him.”

  Her stone-cold stare fell into something warmer. “He was here around five. Didn’t stay long, though.”

  “Was he drinking?”

  “Just a few, like always.”

  “Always?” I asked, staring at the waiter as he nodded knowingly. “What do you mean like always? Does Mark come here a lot?”

  The two exchanged worried glances and she backtracked her statement. “I, um, well…you know. Occasionally.”

  I knew well enough to know they were lying to me, and that Mark had been lying to me, too. My husband frequented his old hang out, drinking and carrying on, and hadn’t told me a thing about it. As angry as I was at his betrayal, I knew it was no match for my own. Besides, the important thing was that Mark had been there that night but was no longer there. “So, you said he was here. He left around what time?”

  “By six, I’d say,” she answered, appearing relieved that I wasn’t pushing for any more information.

  “Thanks.” I looked to the waiter. “Thank you both.”

  “No problem,” he said. “I hope you find him.”

  With that, I was back out the door and into the parking lot. I sank into the driver’s seat of my car and started the ignition. Where could my husband be? As I pulled out of the parking lot, I tried to decide which way Mark would’ve taken home. I remembered the way he’d driven me a few times after his shift, a street that would take us more of a concealed route, and on a gut instinct, I decided to go that direction.

  The highway was quiet so late at night, and it gave me precious moments to think about all that had transpired throughout my evening. Being with Luis was basically a distant memory by then; all I could think about was getting my husband home to me.

  What would I tell him when I eventually found him? Was I allowed to be mad that he’d stolen away to the bar and ignored my calls? Was I allowed to be mad that he was hiding his drinking from me? I didn’t know. Truth be told, I didn’t know anything at that moment. What I did know was that Mark’s disappearance had awakened a fire inside of me. After Mark had told me that he didn’t want children, I’d struggled to feel anything for him and I was worried that I might never feel anything for him again, but the events of that night had relieved that fear. My feelings for him were back as if by the flip of a switch. I loved Mark, and I needed to find him and fix our marriage.

  As I turned around a sharp curve, my headlights shining over the tall tree trunks in the woods, I slammed on my brakes and gasped. The bright red reflection of my beams on his taillights nearly blinded me as I pulled over into the grass and fell from my car. My entire body shook as I rushed to him, taking in the horror of the scene in front of me.

  There were tire marks on the pavement where he’d slammed on his brakes too late as he rounded the curve. The car had gone off the side of the road and slammed straight into a tree, the hood crumpling like an accordion. The woods around me were silent as I approached the car cautiously, looking for his body. Please, God, let him be alive.

  I felt my way around the car in what seemed like slow motion, the scene playing out for me as if I were watching from afar. My fingers trailed across the black metal, onto the glass of the back windows, and finally to his shattered driver’s window.

  I let out a haggard breath as I realized he was still in the car. He hadn’t been thrown through the windshield like I’d feared. Grasping the door handle, I pulled it open, reaching for him as a sob escaped my throat. Glass covered his body, and I dusted it away from his neck as my arm wrapped around it.

  “Mark?” I asked, my own voice scaring me in the bitter silence. “Please…” His skin was cool, but not cold, though he didn’t stir when I touched him. His neck was already bruising from the seatbelt, but as I slid my hand down his chest, my fingers now coated in blood, I let out a breath of relief. He was breathing.

  “Mark,” I said his name louder, reaching for the seatbelt as tears of adrenaline clouded my vision. I unbuckled him and clutched his face, his thick brows coated in blood from a head injury I couldn’t see. Still, he didn’t open his eyes. I let him go, feeling for my phone in an effort to call 911.

  Without the seat belt to hold him up, he began to topple over, and I threw my hands out to keep him from falling out of the car. The sudden movement seemed to cause him to stir, and I heard him suck in a deeper breath. He was alive, even if only barely.

  “Mark?” I cried louder. Please.

  “Mmmhayue—” He made a noise that I couldn’t replicate if I tried as his eyes began to open slowly.

  “Mark?” I shouted at him, holding his head firmly between my hands. “Open your eyes, baby. Can you hear me? Can you hear me? It’s me. It’s Hannah.” Tears blurred my vision, clinging to the ends of my lashes so each blink brought coolness to my skin. Please just open your eyes. Please.

  His eyes opened once more, blinking as he tried to take in what he was seeing. The pain seemed to hit him all at once, and he doubled over, cursing loudly.

  “It’s okay, it’s okay.” I held him tight, trying to assess his injuries as he fought my grip in his arms. “You shouldn’t move too much. I’m going to call for an ambulance.”

  “No,” he said, his voice bursting from his chest in what sounded like anger. “No!”

  “Hold still, Mark. I’m going to get you help, okay?” I spoke slowly to make sure he understood. “You were in a car accident. Can you hear me? Do you know who I am?”

  He stopped struggling and stared up at me, his expression unreadable under the blood. “Yes, I know who you are, Hannah. God. Don’t talk to me like I’m a fucking idiot.” He shrugged me off of his shoulder, then grasped it and screamed in pain. “Just help me up. I don’t need an ambulance.”

  “You’re really hurt,” I told him, unmoving. “You need to see a doctor.”

  He shook his head, rolling his eyes as if I was the one being ridiculous. He glanced back at his car, taking in the damage for the first time. “Goddammit.”

  “It can be fixed. I’m just glad you’re alright,” I told him, standing from where I’d been kneeling on the ground to help him up, despite my hesitations.

  “It can be fixed, I’m just glad you’re alright,” he mimicked in a high-pitched, sing-song voice.

  I tried my hardest to ignore him, more worried about his behavior than angered by it. “But we should get you to a doctor to make sure of that. An ambulance will be the fastest—”

  “I don’t want an ambulance,” he screamed. “Do you have any idea how much money that will cost?”

  I stared at him. My husband had never been one to care about money before, especially not since he started his new job. “I don’t care about the money, Mark. I want to make sure you’re okay.”

  “Of course you don’t care about the money.” He scoffed, lifting a finger to brush away the blood that was dripping into his eyes. “You wouldn’t know the value of a dollar, would ya?”

  “What are you talking about?” I stepped back.

  He moved to walk away from me but staggered and stopped. “Whoa,” he said loudly, one hand on his head. Then, to my surprise, he began to laugh.

  “What are you laughing at?” I demanded, moving to his side. When he spun back around, he opened his mouth and spewed vomit in my direction. I jumped back, the bile narrowly missing me as he bent over and emptied his stomach onto the grass. “You’ve been drinking.” I smelled the whiskey as soon as it hit the ground. From the looks of it, it was the only thing that had been in his stomach.

  “Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner,” he said, one finger in the air sarcastically as he stood and wiped his mouth. “Just take me home, will you?”

  “What about your car?”

  “I’ll deal with it, okay? But not tonight.”
/>
  “You don’t want to go to the doctor? Even if I drive you?”

  “I don’t want anyone to see me like this, Han.” The anger had faded away instantly, and his voice pleaded with me to understand. I was the only one who could see him at his worst and somehow, as sick as it sounds, that made all of it okay.

  “Okay,” I said with a nod. “Okay, let’s get you home. Easy does it.” I lifted his arm and placed it around my shoulders and led him toward my car. “Watch your head,” I told him as I placed him in the seat.

  “No seat belt.” He held up a hand in protest as I tried to put it around him. “It hurts too much.”

  “Your seat belt probably saved your life. Besides that, it’s on the opposite side. You have to wear it,” I argued.

  “Just stop—” he yelled. I let the belt go instantly, standing up and walking away. I couldn’t allow him to upset me. I’d almost lost him, but he was okay. He was alive, and he wanted to come home with me. That was what mattered. That was all that mattered.

  When I climbed into the car, I glanced over at him. He leaned his head onto my shoulder and kissed my arm. To my surprise, the seat belt was on after all. Seeing me notice it, he smiled up at me and gave a slight nod as if to say I’d won. As if to say, anything for you.

  That felt like our agreement—as much pain as we’d caused each other, it was all for the sake of our love. Anything was possible as long as we had each other.

  At least, that’s what I thought.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Her

  I think I stayed up that entire night, just watching him breathe and making sure he didn’t stop. When morning came, the sun shone through the curtains so I could get a better look at his face. We’d cleaned him up a little bit before bed, but I was curious to see what he would look like with all of the blood washed off.

  He’d always been an early riser, so I knew when the sunlight hit his eyes he’d begin to stir. Sure enough, his eyes began to move beneath his swollen eyelids almost instantly. Within a few minutes, I was staring into his blue eyes, so bright in contrast to the redness surrounding them.

  “Good morning,” I whispered.

  He nodded, adjusting his position in the bed. It seemed like even a yawn was causing him immense pain.

  “I put some Aleve there for you, and some water.” I motioned toward his nightstand. “How are you feeling?”

  “Like shit,” he admitted with a forced laugh. He reached up for the pills with a grimace and gulped them down before looking my way again. “I’m so sorry, Hannah. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  I hadn’t known what the morning would bring—whether he would be mad at me or if he would be defensive. His apology shocked me, though, and I cocked my head to the side. “Sorry?”

  “I know that’s hardly enough to make up for what I put you through. I don’t know how it must’ve felt last night to find me like that. I don’t—I don’t know what I was thinking,” he said again.

  “I’m just glad you’re okay,” I said, still shocked by his apology. “I was so scared.”

  “I’m sorry I put you through that. I never meant to—I never meant to cause you any pain. I never drink like that anymore. I don’t know why I did it. I let myself get out of control; I let my bad day get to me and forgot about all my progress. I…I thought that was the end for me. Seeing that tree, heading straight for it, I never thought I’d see you again.”

  My eyes filled with tears at his words, thinking of all the potential pain I could’ve caused him and how stupid I’d been for even thinking of being with another man. I pushed myself from my chair and onto my knees at his bedside.

  “I love you,” I whispered, taking his hands in mine. “I love you so much. If I were to ever lose you…I don’t know what I’d do.”

  He brought our hands to his lips and kissed my palm. “You won’t ever lose me.”

  “I almost did.”

  “It takes more than an old car crash to tear us apart, sweetheart. I couldn’t give you up that easily.”

  It was meant to be a joke, but his words brought the reality of what had happened back to me. Suddenly, I was in a state of panic. “You could’ve died, Mark. Or killed someone else. You…you broke the law.” I was nearing hysterics as I began to let it out. “You could’ve gone to jail!”

  “I’m fine. No one else was hurt. The car can be replaced.” He put a hand to his temple. “I was an idiot, but I’ve learned my lesson. It’ll never happen again.”

  “It can’t,” I told him. “You have to promise me. No more drinking. No more drinking and driving. I can’t be put through this again.”

  “You won’t. I’m done. Last night was a wake-up call, and I lived through it. I know I have to get sober again, for you and for us…if you still want to stay with me. Have you made a decision?”

  Was that what this was about? Surely my husband wasn’t crazy enough to crash his car and nearly die, just to get me to make up my mind about him? I pushed the thought from my head. No one was that crazy. “I love you, and I never want to lose you. That’s all I know, and that’s what’s important.”

  He kissed my head, taking my answer for what it was. “I love you, too.”

  “You should really let me take you to the doctor, though. I’m worried about you.”

  He shook his head. “You don’t have to worry about me. I’m fine.” For show, he tried to sit up, but winced and stopped. “Sore, but fine. Honestly.”

  “What if you have a brain bleed?” I asked, to which he laughed.

  “You’ve watched too much Grey’s Anatomy. I don’t have a brain bleed. I have sore ribs, a black eye, and a bruised ego. That’s about it.”

  “But wouldn’t you rather get checked out just in case? Your shoulder is really swollen.”

  “I’m fine, Hannah,” he said angrily, but his eyes went soft the instant he’d done it. “I’m sorry. Look, the truth is, if we go to the doctor, they’re going to want to know what happened, and I can’t tell them that. If anyone finds out I was driving drunk, if I were to get arrested, I could lose my job. The partners don’t want that kind of publicity, and I can’t say that I blame them. This was, well, it’s better off if we just fix the car, bandage me up, and pretend it never happened.”

  I could understand what he was saying, but it still felt foolish to disregard his health in such a casual manner. “How are you going to explain your injuries? They’re going to notice.”

  “I’m going to call and say that I need the week off. I’ll blame it on a family emergency. I have vacation time, and I can do what I need to from home. It’s no big deal.”

  “Do you really think you’ll have healed that much in a week? These look like they’ll take months to disappear,” I told him, running a finger along the bruise on his neck.

  He pulled my hand away gently. “My guess is, it’ll be a vast improvement. And if I have to take a bit more time off, I’m sure it’s doable.” He sighed. “I know it seems complicated, but trust me, it’s the easiest way.”

  Nothing about his plan seemed easy, but I wasn’t going to argue. Instead, I nodded. “How about a shower, then? You look like death.”

  He smirked with one side of his mouth, a look that had once made me weak in the knees. “What a coincidence, I feel like death, too.”

  To Mark’s credit, he was right about his injuries. Though they’d looked bad thanks to all the blood, once he was cleaned up, they weren’t as devastating as I’d expected. He had a nasty bruise from the seatbelt, a gash across his nose, and another above his eyebrow. There were a few minor cuts across his face and hands from the glass, and his knees were bruised pretty badly from slamming into the dash. Other than that, he seemed to be in decent shape considering the condition of his car. I’d helped him through his shower, washing the places he couldn’t move to reach and cautiously scrubbing his scalp. There were pieces of glass mixed into his hair, and one in particular managed to pierce the end of my finger.

  Once he was ou
t of the shower, I helped him dress and led him toward the kitchen. “You must be starving.”

  “Actually, just some toast would be great. The thought of food right now…” He shook his head.

  “You’re pretty hungover, aren’t you?”

  His nod was anything but happy. I led him toward the table, and once he’d set himself down, I sat across from him and took his hand. “Do you…think maybe it’s time we saw someone? You haven’t been to AA in months. You said rehab was what got you to stop the first time. What about something like that again?”

  “I’m not bad enough to need rehab,” he grumbled, rubbing his eye with the heel of his hand.

  I gulped and looked him over carefully. “Mark, you probably totaled your car. You’re lucky you aren’t dead. How much worse could you get?”

  “Worse,” he said, closing his eyes. His tone sent chills down my spine.

  “What do you mean?”

  “In high school and most of my early years of college, I was…drunk all of the time. As in, I don’t remember a time when I was sober. I haven’t told you much about my past because I don’t want you to look at me differently, but it’s dark, Hannah. The things I’ve seen and done…they would terrify you.”

  I ran a quick hand over my exposed upper arm, wiping away goosebumps. “You can tell me anything. You know that.”

  He grumbled again and squeezed my hand in his. “I know you think that, but you don’t know what you’re saying. I’ve done horrible things. I wasn’t who I am today.”

  It was almost as if he wanted to tell me, as if it was bubbling just below the surface. “I love you, Mark. I know exactly what I’m saying. Whatever you’ve done…whoever you were, all I care about is who you are now. We can fix this. We can get you the help that you need, but you have to be open to it. You have to admit you have a problem.”

  “I know I have a problem. I’ve never denied that,” he said with a snap, pulling his hand from mine. “I told you that the very first night we met. I’m an alcoholic.”