Chapter 13

Penelope started crying in disbelief. "Don't tell me you can't get it up, James," she said. "I don't care. I want a child." James could feel a headache building from the sounds of her sobs. The frustration and exhaustion within him reached their peaks. In the end, he slammed the door open and strode out of the room. He ended up driving to a bar that night. Coincidentally, it was the same bar where the fire had broken out. The wine cabinets in the first floor had been replaced, and the hallway on the second floor had been renovated, so it looked as good as new. James tipped his head back and swallowed a mouthful of alcohol. Images of that day suddenly resurfaced in his mind. Rebecca's wrists and ankles had been tied up as she struggled to crawl along the floor. They had made eye contact with each other despite the distance that separated them. Her eyes had been shining with pleading. There had also been hints of self-deprecation and clarity buried deep under the other emotions.