I thought I would put up the next two chapters of this today - hope you don't mind!

Chapter 12

Donna came back into the living room, carrying two steaming cups of coffee.  She placed them on the table, and sat back down on the sofa.  As Jon lifted up his cup, she put her hand on his arm, saying:

“Don’t drink it yet, it’s too hot!”

“Donna, I think I’m old enough to know whether my coffee is too hot!  I’m not a child!”

He glared at her – if looks could have killed, she would have been dead on the spot.

“To hell with you then!” she snapped, getting up. “You’ve brought all this on yourself!”

“Where are you going?” he said, taking hold of her arm.

“Back to bed!” she said, shaking him off.  “I can’t to talk to you when you’re like this!  In fact, I don’t want to talk to you at all!”

“Donna!”  His voice was shaking, and tears were beginning to pour down his face.  “Please!  I’m sorry!  I’ve never felt like this before – please…”

“Like what?” she said, sitting down next to him, taking his hand in hers.  “Come on – talk to me!  Please, love, tell me – help me to understand!”

“It’s so hard to explain – I feel so out of control, the way I feel sometimes – it scares me, and I don’t know what to do!  I’m not making any sense, am I?”

“You knew this would happen!” said Donna, tears beginning to spill down her face.  “You knew!  Yet you still went to see her, didn’t you?  Even though you knew the consequences you still had to go, didn’t you?  Now look what it’s done to you!  You’re a nervous wreck! What happened to the man I married?  He was kind, loving, generous to a fault – with everything!  Now you hardly ever smile, you’re always tired, you cry at the drop of a hat – to put it in a nutshell, you don’t give a toss about anything any more!”

With that, she broke down completely, and rushed upstairs, leaving him sitting there totally stunned at her sudden outburst.  For a moment he just sat there, staring at his empty coffee cup, then, as if something suddenly snapped, he stood up and hurled it at the wall.  He heard Rosie begin to cry upstairs, a confused frightened cry.  As he sat there listening to her heartwrenching sobs, it did not take long before they were drowned out by his own.  He was so distraught, he did not know Donna was there, until he felt a pair of gentle arms pulling him close. Despite his protests, she held him  until his frustration and anger was spent.  Ordering him to go upstairs, she picked up the pieces of the broken cup and disposed of it safely, and, by the time she climbed into bed, he was asleep, or so she thought.

Surprisingly, when Donna came down with Rosie the next morning, he was already up, sitting at the kitchen table, staring into space, holding a cup of coffee.  He hadn’t shaved, and looked as though he had not slept all night.   Donna put Rosie in her chair, and, as she waited for the kettle to boil, she began to make her breakfast.  Rosie held out her arms to Jon.

“Kiss, daddy!” she said, giving him the smile that was always guaranteed to melt his heart.

He leaned over and kissed her gently on the cheek, glancing over at Donna.  Rosie tugged at his hand again.

“Sing, daddy!” she said.  “Sing Rosie’s song!”

“Not now, Rosie!” he said, pressing his hand to his forehead.  “I’ve got a splitting headache!”

“Please, daddy!” she pleaded, her voice growing more insistent.  “Sing Rosie’s song!”

“I said – not now!” he snapped, banging his hand on the table.

Rosie’s eyes filled with tears, her lips trembled and she began to cry.  She was not used to her daddy losing his temper with her like this.

“Happy now?” said Donna, picking her up.  “Taking your temper out on a baby!”

“Don’t like daddy!” said Rosie, burying her head in her mother’s shoulder.  “Daddy shouted!  Don’t like daddy any more!”

Donna noticed him flinch at Rosie’s words, almost as though he had been slapped.  He did not say a word, it was almost as though he did not care – but he did care, the thought that he could lose his little girl’s love was more than he could stand.

“Don’t say that, Rosie!” she said, putting her back down in her chair.  “Daddy didn’t mean to shout!  You heard what he said – he doesn’t want to sing to you at the moment because his head hurts!  He’ll sing to you later when he’s feeling better!  Come on, give him another kiss – that’ll make him feel better straight away!”

Satisfied by this explanation, Rosie planted a gentle kiss on his forehead, and, wrapping her arms around his neck, she said:

“Better now, daddy?”

“Much better, thank you!” he said, grateful that Rosie could not see the tears that were rolling unchecked down his face.

The next few days carried on in pretty much the same vein, with Jon and Donna going through the motions for Rosie’s sake.  Although they still loved each other, there seemed to be an invisible barrier between them, it was almost as though the spark had gone – that precious intimacy seemed to be lost.  So much had happened in the last few months that would have made lesser relationships crumble under the strain, it was a miracle that theirs was still intact.  He still blamed himself for Rosie’s illness, and, although he would never admit it, Donna’s angry words were still firmly imprinted in his memory, then there was Emily.  Despite what he had said, he could not get her out of his mind, making Donna think that her and Rosie were second best, that they were not enough for him any more.  He felt he was torn in so many different directions – he had felt he was betraying his wife and child if he saw Emily again – yet, for reasons that he could not explain, she had taken hold of his heart again and wouldn’t give it back.  Even though he knew what would happen, he had still gone to see her again.  Even though Donna had begged and pleaded with him not to go, he had gone all the same.  There was a time when he would have done anything to avoid hurting her – he loved his family more than life itself, yet he had done something he knew would hurt them.  At the moment, even though he was a grown man, he felt like a child inside – angry and hurting, wanting forgiveness for what he had done, but not knowing quite how to ask for it.

Instead of coming home after his appearances, he would stay out with friends into the early hours, almost as if avoiding his problems would make them go away.  Little did he realise that it was only making them ten times worse.  One night, she sat up until 1am waiting for him. When he finally arrived, he stood there in the doorway, and his appearance shocked her.  His face was red and blotchy, and his eyes were so puffed up they were almost closed.  It was obvious he was freezing cold –he leaned against the doorpost, his arms folded, shaking uncontrollably.  Pulling herself together, Donna stood up and faced him.

“Where the hell have you been?” she said, her voice virtually a whisper.  “I’ve been worried sick about you!”

“Well, don’t be!” he said, flippantly.  “I can look after myself!  I’m a big boy now!”

“Have you been crying?” she said, eyeing him suspiciously.

“Like you care!”

“If I didn’t care” she said, trying to keep her voice down.  “do you think I’d still be sitting here waiting for you!  I do care – more than I should!”

“What do you mean?” he said, a look of fear crossing his face.

“Work it out!” she replied, her eyes reflecting the pain and anger she was feeling.  “I can’t take much more of this, Jon!  I want so much to be with you, but you’re making it so hard for me to love you!  It frightens me when I see what’s happening to you!”

As he stood there leaning against the wall, shaking from head to foot as he wept soundlessly, she put her hand on his shoulder, saying:

“It’s almost as though you’re slowly slipping away from me, and I really don’t know how much longer I can hold on!”