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She walked in slowly, let her overnight bag fall, her other knapsack filled with clothes also falling off her shoulders; letting the dust settle from where her feet touched the wooden floor. It’s been exactly five years since she left her condominium unit and eight since they made everything official. It’s also almost 12 hours of tears, cracked voices and broken sentences from Andy. Alibis she’s so used to hearing over the past 3 decades of her life with men—yes today was a different monster all together— but it was scary how she barely heard anything Andy said. Scary and somewhat…oddly comforting.
It shouldn’t surprise her anymore; Andy’s the top flirt of the squad. He’s also the most kind-hearted, most sensitive, and, during those times, she believed was the only man who ever made her feel special, at least more than her son. And if he could be that person for her, he could be that to anyone he likes. She just thought, maybe this time Andy wouldn’t be like that to anyone anymore, maybe it was supposed to be just her… It should be just her, right? Right?
She balled her fists before she turned around and slammed the door with all her might, refusing to let her tears fall.
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“Who’s she?”
“Ah Captain, meet Detective Carla Randeen. New detective from homicide, says she wanted to be like me and followed me here. She told me she’s the girl who kept on asking questions during my talk in the Academy three years back. And look at her now!”
“Pleased to finally meet you, Captain Raydor. Andy’s told me so much about you.”
“Ah.”
“I mean, welcome to LAPD. Please excuse me, Lieutenant, Detective.”
Sometimes she feels stupid for thinking that all those years of being separated from Jack because of his gambling problems never really gave her…personal pain. Sure, she hurt for her children for not being able to straighten out their father until they grew up, that was maternal pain. But this pain, this was unfathomable, nothing equated to this now because there never was something to compare it with in the first place. She wasn’t really prepared for this. For this. She guessed no one will ever be.
If there’s one saving grace about Jackson Raydor, it’s that he’s never brought anyone home other than their children or her. He was a committed gambler and a one-woman-man. Though she knew that gambling will always be his first love.
She never ever second-guessed herself, not after Jack and certainly not before Andy. She knew something was definitely wrong between the two of them ever since that woman came but she was scared. Scared of what? Defeat?
Seeing Andy Flynn flirting? That was normal. Seeing Andy Flynn angry? That was usual. Seeing Andy Flynn at the parking lot with a woman wrapped around him so tightly, kissing him? That was…
She pulled off the linen sheet covering her couch, before proceeding to her kitchen to open the secret door in one of her cupboards. Of course it’s still there. She pulled out that barely touched bottle of whiskey she never thought she’d drink again because it reminded her of the last day she ever saw Jack as her husband, and poured two fingers in the glass canister that was also inside the secret compartment. She finished the contents in one gulp. No wine can soothe that ache in her chest tonight.
Sharon felt more relief in the burn in her throat rather than what transpired during that day.
_____
“Chief Taylor sent me this recommendation letter under your signature, Detective Randeen is to transfer? To where?”
“Here. She wants to be with the squad. Isn’t that exciting?”
“We’re alright now, Andy, I don’t think—?”
“We’ll be fine. I’m sure Amy can help her with—“
“No Andy.”
“Why not?”
“Lieutenant Flynn. You’re giving a recommendation, not a promotion, I believe.”
“Seriously? You’re pulling rank on me?”
“Lieutenant why is it so pressing to you that she’s transferred here immediately?”
“She’s brilliant! And she’s—“
“--still for consideration to be transferred to Hollywood PD, correct? Still pending that insubordination case, correct? Still liable for the deaths of three of our own and—”
“Yes. Yes to all of that, Captain Raydor. I’m sorry. I’m…”
“Do that to me again Lieutenant Flynn and I will make sure by the time we go home to our house I’m the only one who’s left employed.”
“Sharon…”
“No Andy. Oh my god, Andy what is happening to you?”
Nothing ever hurts like betrayal.
But Jack cheated too, didn’t he? Money and gambling and secrets. Andy cheated-- with the most basic instinct men have, but she conveniently thought that it won’t happen to her. She knows Andy loves her. Loved her, she thought. Maybe she ought to put words about Andy and her in the past tense.
It’s over…right?
Eight years with Andy Flynn. And now she thinks it may have been all just a lie.
She poured another, and drank half of it greedily, ignoring the warm tears that started flowing again from her eyes. I wish it was all just a lie.
Then again, she’s Sharon Raydor; she always looks at the consolation she gets when life gives her more shit than she could handle. She took the whiskey bottle and left the glass tumbler on the counter, sat down on the couch, her knees up and her chin on it. The tears still kept on coming.
When Jack Raydor left, it was more of a relief than hurt. And Jack left— this time she left. She couldn’t stay in the house they’ve shared for almost a decade without thinking of how many other women he might have brought home with him whenever he fancied.
No, maybe it was just that woman. And if that’s the case…what’s so different about her? What’s so different now?
But…all those nights they’ve craved for each other’s touch, all those nights when he would seek her in his sleep, all those nights that made her feel like she’s the only woman in his life.
What’s so different now?
She drank a gulp from the bottle before settling it on her table. She wiped her eyes, and bit the side of her hand, her eyes squeezed tightly, trying her mightiest to stop the onslaught of tears. She curled on her couch and let out a painful sob.
What’s so different now?
____
“Please listen to me, Sharon.”
“Why should I listen to you Andy? Let’s say she was just using you to, I don’t know, get ahead, but you let her do it to you anyway.”
“it’s not like that.”
“Then what is it like, Andy? What is it that that woman gave you, that you’re willing to throw away 8 years of being us and more years of being friends? That you’re willing to throw away the work we went through just to not get our asses kicked out of LAPD? That you’re willing to sacrifice me…God Andy please do tell me.”
“It’s not like that Sharon, I was telling her to not leave the building because she was—“
“—playing with you and your kindred spirit, is that it?”
“Christ, please listen to me, let me explain Sharon please.”
“Andy…god why do I even bother.”
“You have the next few seconds to tell me why Andrew Flynn.”
“No, stop! Don’t touch me!”
“Sharon please…”
She knew she should’ve at least let him explain properly before she walked out of his door. But she thought it might be the best if she cleared her head first before succumbing to his words. Rusty always did that; run away because he doesn’t like people seeing him cry. And yes, she’s mostly like that too.
She squinted from the darkness of the place, she didn’t realize she fell asleep crying on her couch. But the familiar smell of old leather gave her a source of comfort. Maybe a little crick on the neck too but that’s alright. She sat up and rolled her neck a few times.
“I was hoping you’d wake up soon.”
Sharon jumped a little from her seat. How long has she been out?
Andy walked from the kitchen, a bottle of water on one hand, and sat beside her. The space between them was just a few inches away but it feels like a universe and a half for her. He handed her the bottle and she took a sip. Andy rested his arms on the top of his thigh and said,
“She’s a spy. From the cartel. She befriended half of the Homicide squad and then me before applying to LAPD. Those were on all separate occasions. She has legit papers from the Academy, it was supposed to be like that. She trained and trained until she came in and messed up the last part of their plan. She messed up because I was not supposed to be part of it. She told me she liked me from the beginning, and she wasn’t lying on that part. I didn’t see her like a woman, I saw her like Nicole—I wanted to dote on her and be a good mentor. But she got it wrong I guess. She thought I might be interested in her too. I looked through her files to make my own impression of her and a medical file stuck to me, that she’s gotten worse over a sickness through the years, she’s manic- depressive and is under a lot of medication for some time before she got cleared for her illness. That struck me hard so I decided to check everything out before telling you and Chief Taylor, but she kissed me when I confronted her. I’ve filed my findings with Chief, and she’s under custody now. She kind of went away kicking and screaming.
“I couldn’t make up the words earlier, you so, so distraught and I caused that. What happened in the parking lot was something I never thought would…But the thing is, I still let it happen. And for that I’m…no amount of apology could ever bring back your trust in me, but…”
Andy sighed, his voice cracking when he turned around and faced Sharon to say,
"I’m sorry. Sharon, I really am sorry.”
She looked at him, his eyes bearing the entirety of the ache he inflicted on her. He knows what I’ve been through. I wasn’t suffering alone of course.
She realized that she’d gone through the whole ordeal overthinking and jumping into conclusions like she’s a 20-something newly- wed. Maybe that was the bane of not being able to actually live with Jack after he became a lawyer—she’s always overthinking things because she’s left on her own devices to think. And think. And think. What did Emily say to her? She’s thinking too much and not processing things slowly. Always looking at the microscopic details and not the whole picture.
She faced Andy, her teeth sinking on her lower lip.
“I have trust issues.” She managed to blurt out of the blue. She stared back on muddy brown eyes she’s fallen in love with over her stay in the LAPD.
Maybe it’s not over. Not until we say so. We— not just me thinking about it.
“And I broke that trust from you Sharon. I know. That’s why you reacted like that, and I’m not exactly the most trustworthy person in the room, relationship-wise.” Andy said solemnly. She placed the bottle on the table beside her whiskey and took Andy’s hands on her lap. She stared at their hands before Andy slid his hands away and opened his arms a little. Sharon wrapped her arms around him and rested her face on his neck. Andy tightened his arms around Sharon.
“We’re gonna be okay, right?” Sharon said, her voice muffled on Andy’s neck. It was more of a prayer that they will be alright rather than a statement. She still didn’t know what to do with herself after what happened. But she knows she loves Andy. So much.
“I love you too Sharon, so very much. I’m going to make this okay. We’re going to be okay.” Andy whispered on her hair. She didn’t realize she was saying those out loud until she heard Andy’s answer. Andy kissed the top of her head and then her temple before letting out a sigh. Maybe she should be
“I had hoped you’d be here, I hoped I still have you. It looked like a permanent goodbye when you left. And I couldn’t let you, I won’t let you.”
“Well, don’t let me.” She felt all the tension from her frame leave her body. And the headache forming underneath her skull have subsided. I better stop overthinking.
“I won’t. I won’t ever let you go.”