My Happy Ending

"So what did you do then?" she asked.

"Well in my eyes, even though I loved her more than you can imagine, that ended the marriage. But the laws are just set up to screw men over, so I stayed in the house with her for a while. She tried to do everything in her power to keep us together, but I guess I'm kind of like you. The thrill in the relationship was gone for me. Finally, after one of our arguments, I caught her at it again and filed for divorce. I was smart enough to get proof the second time. All through our divorce she kept trying to get me back. She tried cooking for me and even tried to lure me back with sex, but there's just something different about her. It's like there's something missing in her now," I said. "I'm trying to start my life over but it's hard, because like I said I loved her so much and for so long that it's hard getting over her. And she keeps popping up again like a bad penny."

"No wonder you didn't want her in your room," she said. "I'm really sorry I misjudged you. I was wrong. I'll stop by again later. I do have a few other patients to check on, even if you are my primary." As she turned to leave, I smiled because one particular part of my anatomy was happy to see her walking away from me and it rose to the occasion. Her ass was magnificent. As she got to the door she turned back and almost caught me staring at it. "It's Kathryn," she said smiling.

"What's Kathryn?" I asked.

"My name," she said.

* * * * * *

Amanda

"I can't believe that fucking bitch threw me out of my own husband's room when he needs me most," I screamed. "I'm going to make a complaint. This is your fault, Marge."

"How is this, my fault?" she asked.

"If you hadn't opened up your fucking mouth, I'd have had Rence back," I spat. "The two of us love each other. We're made for each other. Instead of him traveling and doing all of these races and things that are too dangerous for him, we should be seeing beautiful places together."

"Besides you're supposed to be my friend. I trusted you," I yelled at her.

"But Amanda, there's something wrong with you," she said. "The way you've been acting since this all began doesn't make sense. Besides you cheated on him over and over again. I know how that feels and I don't want to see anyone go through it, especially not him. Whether you remember it or not, he helped to save my life when you guys rescued me from my psychotic ex. Besides, since he and Darrell hired me, he's my boss too."

"Yeah," I snapped. "As soon as my divorce is settled, my husband becomes a partner and starts raking in money. Then I hook up with the wrong guy and lose my teaching gig so I'm out of work."

"Nobody told you to get caught fucking a child molester," she said. "If you could have just stopped, you could have gotten your husband back. If you'd stopped after the first time, the two of you probably wouldn't have gotten a divorce. But you went ahead because you were pissed and let it happen again. Then after that, you were slowly winning the man back but you couldn't stop screwing those losers. If I hadn't told him you'd have gotten caught anyway. But even after he kicked you out of his life, you just can't seem to stop. You got angry because he called you a whore, but Amanda what are you acting like?"

I looked away from her knowing that she was right. She kept going anyway. "After she got you out of jail, even your daughter wrote you off. And as far as losing your job, the school board had no choice. When the police busted in and caught you having sex with that animal, the investigation record became public record and what parent would want you teaching their kids knowing the type of people you hang out with? You did it to yourself Amanda. And for what? You keep saying none of these guys are as good in bed as Rence is. If you'd stopped you'd still have him. What is it going to take to get you to stop? The only thing you have left to lose is your life."

"I need my husband back," I snapped. "He's hurt and they won't let me anywhere near him. What am I going to do?"

"You're going to start acting smart for once," she said. "You need to carry your ass back to that hospital and introduce yourself to them all over again. Think about it. Rence is going to need somewhere to recover. Now, he probably won't want to go to that rat trap you live in, but you could volunteer to take care of him in his condo. You could probably move in with him while you care for him and if you play your cards right, you might never move out. But I'm guaranteeing you that if you fuck this up he's gone for good. This may be your last shot. So you need to start keeping your boney old legs together because this time it's for your future. He isn't dating anyone; he isn't seeing anyone so you're probably the only person available unless he decides to stay with us, or with Paige. This is your only shot Amanda, carry your ass back over there and make nice."

"How?" I asked. "Rence told that bitchy little nurse that I was never to be allowed to see him again? There's no way she'll let me near him and every time you two have been there to visit him, she's in his room. She watches him like a fucking guard dog."

"Who says you have to go in his room," said Marge. "You make a better statement by not trying to go in. You just go often and ask about him. As a matter of fact, your goal should be to get that fucking guard dog on your side. Since she spends so much time with him, if she's on your side, she'll be telling him about you. She's a woman just like us. You tell her how much you love him and need to have him back. Tell her that you guys were married for a long time and you messed up and this is your chance to make it up to him. If you get her telling him constantly how you've cleaned up your act and you're worried about him, maybe he'll let you in to see him. Then you arrange it so you're the one who takes care of him during his recovery. During the recovery, don't push yourself on him like a whore. You already know he likes fucking you. Your body is not awesome Amanda, but he likes it. That must prove that he loves you more than anything on this planet. Wait for him to get horny and make a move on you, then, you jump on it with both feet. But I'm telling you, if you fuck this up, you won't ever get another shot. You'll end up being one of those bag ladies downtown with rotten teeth and two hundred cats."

I thought about what she'd told me and realized that she was right. When Rence had awakened in the hospital even after being unconscious for almost a week, he had taken one look at me and thrown me out of his room.

The whole time that we'd been apart, I had counted on the fact that like me, the longer we were apart the more he would want us together again. I viewed our time apart as just a break from each other. The expression he had on his face when he saw me told me that as much as he'd loved me, he was getting over me and had probably already accomplished it.

The whole time that Marge was telling me about how he wasn't dating or seeing anyone, her voice and the things she said, led me to believe that he was getting his shit together so he'd be right for the next person who came along. He probably didn't want to go into a new relationship with all of the baggage from the past weighing him down.

I went back to the hospital the next day and tried to find out what condition he was in. No one would release any information about his condition. The first few days that I'd been here, I'd simply gone up to the desk and told them who I was. I'd shown them my driver's license to prove it and they'd given me all of the information about him that I needed and sent me right into his room.

Once he woke up though, I couldn't find out shit. The woman at the desk was at least polite. Trying to befriend that fucking nurse was like pulling teeth. She wouldn't even talk to me.

I even tried to apologize to her. "I'm really sorry if we got off on the wrong foot," I said. "But I was just really worried about my husband."

"Your ex-husband you mean," she said.

"Well, I did some bad things but it doesn't mean that I don't love him," I said. "I never stopped loving him and someday we'll be together again."

"We all need something to hope for," she said and just walked away.

"Wait," I asked. "Could you please just tell me how he is?"

"No," she said coldly. "Our patient confidentiality regulations forbid that." She started walking away again.

"You spend a lot of time in his room," I said. "Could you please just tell him that I was here and I was worried about him and if there's anything he needs, I'll be here?"

"I'll tell him," she said. The next day I ran into her and asked her nicely if she'd told him and she assured me that she had. I asked her if he was okay and again she hid behind the regulations. By the third day, I'd started to notice something odd. My husband's nurse seemed to be the only nurse on the floor who didn't take breaks. I also noticed that when Rence had visitors, she sometimes didn't leave the room. When my daughter came, the nurse stayed in the room and left for a few moments to get something. When Paige left, that nurse followed her down the hall talking with her about God knows what, then she went back into Rence's room.

My only clue that something was wrong came early in the fourth week. I got a call from Marge who wanted to congratulate me. "Don't fuck this chance up Amanda," she said. "You got lucky. I really didn't see you pulling this one off."

"What are you talking about?" I asked her.

"You know," she said. "Getting to take care of Rence while he recovers."

"What makes you think I'm doing it?" I asked excitedly.

"He gets out of the hospital day after tomorrow," she said. "Darrell and I were listed as his alternates if Paige couldn't do it. But we really never expected to do it. Paige's house is so tiny and she and Josh are really just getting started. Paige called us this morning and told us not to worry about it that he'd be staying in his own place with someone to watch over him. It had to be you."

"I wonder when I'm supposed to find out," I told her.

"Paige said that it was already arranged," said Marge.

"I wonder who is doing it then," I said. All of a sudden, I got this sinking feeling. I threw my clothes on and dashed over to the hospital.

Even running over to the hospital I had the worst possible feeling in the pit of my stomach. I remembered too many things that I'd taken for granted. They all came screaming back to me. There were too many times that I remember that fucking nurse coming out of Rence's room with a big smile on her face.

I was angry, both at myself for being so stupid and at her for trying to take things that didn't belong to her.

What kind of woman does that? What kind of woman sees another female working her ass off trying to save her marriage and just steps in and makes things harder? Isn't life hard enough for women as it is without us hurting each other? Lord knows that men will take advantage of us every chance they get. Do we really have to hurt each other?

I got out of my car and I had that nagging feeling that I'd forgotten something as I stormed into the hospital. I took the elevator to Rence's floor which only gave my anger more time to percolate. The elevator seemed to be rising at an extremely slow rate just to increase my anger.

When I finally got to Rence's floor, I was ready for anything. I looked around the floor hoping to see her. She wasn't at the nurse's station although she never was. Just as I headed for it anyway to ask where she was, a security guard asked me if I was okay. "I'm fine," I snapped. "I'm just fucking fine."

I noticed that he was talking into a walkie-talkie on his shoulder as I stepped up to the nurse's station.

"Where is that home-wrecking cunt?" I screamed. "Drag her fucking ass out here right now God damn it."

Now there were two security guards and they were on either side of me and back a step.

"Ma'am can you step away from the desk and come to the lounge with us so we can help you?" one asked.

"The only help I need is hiding from me," I yelled. "I want to talk to that bitch now." The next thing I knew they had each grabbed an arm and were marching me down the hallway. They escorted me into a room with a security cage and closed the door after me.

"Ma'am, I'm going to give you a few moments to calm down," said the first guard who'd spoken to me. "Would you like a cup of tea or water to help you calm down so we can talk about this?"

"Why the fuck are you holding me against my will?" I screamed. "You're not even a real fucking cop. You're just a redneck with a badge. They won't even give you jerks guns. You don't even have a car you have those fucking golf carts. Let me out of here, now."

"Ma'am, we're holding you to get you to calm down, because you had a loud, profanity laden outburst inside of a hospital. There are recovering patients here. We are, once again, only holding you until you calm down, at which time you will be escorted off of the premises unless you'd like to calmly discuss your problem with a hospital official."

"You're God damned right I want to talk to a hospital official. I want you and that bitch fired," I snapped.

"Ma'am, I'm going to get the director of the hospital down here as soon as you calm down and we'll look into it," he said.

Twenty minutes later, an older man with hair so gray it looked white followed the security men into the room. He looked at me with a very kindly expression on his face.

"What seems to be the problem Ma'am?" he asked.

"I'm sure your thugs have already told you their skewed version of what happened," I snapped.

"Ma'am, I think you have more problems than you even know," he said. "But what I asked you was what the problem was. I'd like to hear your side of it. Sometimes different people see the same incidents from differing viewpoints and different motivations. I really want to know your side of this. But if you don't want to talk about it you're free to go."

"One of your whores is trying to come between me and my husband," I said. "And I'm not going to stand for that shit, so I came down here to confront her. Your thugs tried to get me out of the area to save her."

He sat down next to me. "Is your husband a patient here or are you talking about something outside of the hospital. The reason I ask is because if your husband is a patient then I can get to the bottom of the situation, but I have no control or influence on what happens outside of the hospital or after hours in my staff's private lives."

"My husband is a patient here so she monopolizes his time while he's vulnerable," I said. "From the very first time I visited him here she's done whatever she could to keep us separate."

"Who is your husband?" he asked.

"Lawrence Clark," I said. He just nodded and wrote the name down on a small pad he produced from his pocket.

While he was gone, one of the guards stayed in the room with me. I smiled at him. "Your ass is grass buddy," I said. "When your boss gets to the bottom of this you're going to get fired. How dumb do you have to be to get fired from a security job? I guess your next gig will be as cashier in a lemonade stand. Not much to say for yourself since leaving high school huh?"

"Ma'am, I did two tours in Afghanistan," he said. "I got back and got a degree in criminal justice and joined the police department. I got shot twice while on patrol in a high crime area and decided to do something less stressful. It's funny, but during the entire time that we've been in Afghanistan we've lost more American citizens on the streets of Detroit than we have in the war there. I like going home to my wife and kids at night, so this job suits me fine. I like my life, how about you?"

I realized then that he and his partner had been nothing but courteous and professional towards me. My anger had caused me to act out. I owed him an apology. Before I could say anything, the white haired old man was back and this time his mouth was drawn and tight.

"Mrs. Clark, we need to talk," he said. "Can you please come with me?" We went upstairs into a fairly plush office. There on his desk was a computer. He hit a couple of keys and it showed the feed from an external security camera. It showed me driving into the hospital's parking lot at a high rate of speed. Then I got out of my car and ran inside the hospital leaving the door to my car open and the engine running. He just looked at me.

"I was upset," I hissed. He fast forwarded and the screen showed a couple of teenagers getting into my car and driving away.

"It's going to be pretty difficult for you to press charges against them it they're caught," he said. "You did leave the car open and the keys in it. That's more like you gave them a car."

Next he showed me getting off the elevator and heading over to the nurse's station and cursing at the woman working there.

"The nurse at the desk remembered you," he said. "I also found out about your husband's injuries and treatment. He was in critical care. With an injury like his he's lucky to be alive. He's also lucky that the swelling in his brain wasn't any more severe than it is. His leg injury was very tricky to fix as well. Anyway, the swelling in his brain even after he recovered required constant monitoring. We also needed someone to assess the degree of mental degradation or memory loss. It's normal in situations like that to have someone with the patient around the clock. Sometimes it's a family member, but more than likely it's a nurse trained for that task."

"I could have done it," I snapped. "I would have done it..."

"No, you couldn't have done it," he said quietly. "The nurse didn't try to separate you from your husband. And she's not...what did you call her...a home-wrecking cunt? There's no home to wreck, Mrs. Clark. According to your husband, he woke up and found you in his room and raised hell about it. He personally put you on the list of people who are not allowed to visit him and not allowed to have any information about his care or treatment. I'm only telling you the things I did this morning because he gave his permission. He also insisted that you be made aware that you and he are no longer married so you have no reason to call him your husband. Furthermore, the woman you came here to confront isn't even here today. She started her vacation this morning and will be gone for three to four weeks."

What he was saying hit me like a ton of bricks. "But I thought..." I said.

"Mrs. Clark, you need help," he said kindly. "I know that sometimes it seems like our lives are spiraling out of control. Sometimes we really need to sit down and talk to someone about our problems. Many of us suffer from an inability to move on after a setback or emotional trauma. It seems like you're having trouble moving on after your divorce. May I recommend..."

"Fuck you Grandpa," I snapped. "I don't need your recommendations, none of you understand this. Rence and I are not divorced. We're just going through a rough patch. We're going to work this out. Or we would if everyone could keep their noses out of our fucking business. If it's not whores in the hospital, it's meddling friends. Fuck all of you. Let me out of here. I should have known that you'd stick up for that whore. You're all in this together. She's probably fucking my husband in his hospital bed right now."

"I really shouldn't do this," he said. "But your husband did give me permission to give you any information I needed to prove there was no malfeasance..." he tapped a few more keys and then entered a password. Then he input a room number and another password. Rence's room came onto the screen.