Chapter Text
“Babe! Where’s my laptop? I need to finish that report!” You heard Alex shout from across your house, causing you to snicker. “What laptop are you speaking of, dear?” Your reply was oozing with sarcasm and your husband was not finding it as entertaining as you did.
“Y/N, I don’t have time for this! That report is due in three days and if it’s not done, Jefferson’s gonna have my ass served to Washington on a silver platter! I can’t have that hanging over my head, you know that!” Alex had stomped to where you lay in the king-size bed that you two shared, a barely-tamed fury in his chocolate eyes.
His hair had been moving with him like snakes as he began to pace. His hands were on his hips and if it weren’t for you reveling in besting your husband, for the time being, you would have teased him about just that.
Instead of matching his frustration, you reply in a voice that is so sugary you want to vomit: “If you don’t lift your fingers around this house to do more than smash letters on a keyboard, it won’t be Jefferson having your ass nor will it be Washington receiving it.” You loved your husband dearly, but he was a workaholic.
Someone needed to set him straight and it was no one else’s responsibility except your own. If it took hiding his laptop from him until he got his priorities straight, then you would do so with a smile and a snarky comment to follow.
As expected, your loving husband did not take this lightly. “I cannot believe you! Everything is on that laptop! That beautiful piece of technology is what bought the bed you’re laying in! My existence is on that thing!”
“Alexander, you seem to be forgetting that your wife, however, is not on that laptop. Your home and this bed and our marriage are not on that laptop.” He rolled his eyes and puffed -much like an angsty teenager- and continued to pace the bedroom floor.
“Last week I told you I was moving to Greece to marry a buff fisherman with a nice ass and you know what you said to me? You said, ‘Save a piece for me’ and kept typing!” True story. “Hell, the night before last I told you I was going on a hot date with Lafayette and you replied with ‘go have fun, honey’ like it wasn’t a big deal! Nothing gets your attention anymore!”
Alex still didn’t seem to be softening up, and the sight of his still furious state sapped you of your strength in the moment.
“Do I even get your attention anymore, Alexander?”
Your insecurities rose to the surface like water levels during a flood and just like that, they became impossible to retract from the tense air. A lone tear began to trickle down your face and your husband made no effort to wipe it away. He just watched it fall, his face showing nothing but the same unbridled anger that has been there from the beginning of the argument.
In response, he walked out of the room. Just, walked out and slammed the bedroom door shut in his wake. You heard him rummaging through his study momentarily, slamming that door as well when he was done there. Hearing the front door slam and the tires make an awful screeching sound, your mind finally catches up with time:
He left you to soak in your tears.
He left you to drown in an ocean of sheets that were a painful reminder of the happier times you had shared.
He just left.
“Herc, I need to swing by your place for a bit. There are urgent matters I need to discuss with you. Call me back ASAP.” Alexander hung up the phone, tossing it onto the dashboard in frustration. Herc wasn’t answering his phone and he was the only person he knew that would let him use their laptop to finish his report.
Screeching to a halt as he just noticed the red light at a four-way intersection, his phone rings, signifying an incoming call.
Seeing it’s you, he mutes the ringer and keeps driving. He needs to blow off steam and talking to you isn’t going to help him. He feels a little guilty, but he needs time.
You were crushed. Alex ignored your call and you didn’t have the emotional energy to send him a text. Instead, you ring the one person you knew would answer, even if it was one in the morning where he is.
“Hello?” John’s voice moaned, voice still ragged from sleeping. Your brother was studying abroad in London and would be gone for another two months.
You were still sobbing, and this sobbing kept you from speaking clearly. “A-alex and I g-got in a fight and-” “Whoa whoa whoa! Slow down, sis. What happened?”
John was not a happy camper. He knew you were hurting and he had suspicions about why Alex ran out. Knowing what it’s like to be abandoned by someone you loved, he couldn’t let you experience that pain alone. Booking a flight back to New York for the next day, he’s scared of what state he’ll find you in once he goes back home.