I slept on the couch that night after the big blow-out. We didn't have money for a hotel room or another apartment like you hear in other stories. I was only an E5, not an officer. I guess my pay was equivalent to a person making about $17 an hour with no overtime. My plan was to pack the next day and move onto the ship. Why go to a hotel when I have a bunk to sleep in and a Galley to eat in on the mighty Mt. Vernon?
As I laid down on the couch, I was engulfed in the silence. It was more than just mere quiet. It was a lonely silence. I was like a manifestation of my family now. Empty. Without warmth. Devoid of life.
The next morning, I stuffed a few items of clothing and toiletries into my seabag. Alicia was sitting silently on the bed, staring straight ahead at the wall in front of her. Nothing was said. Not a word, a grunt, or a sniffle passed between us.
I guess there was nothing left to be said. As I packed I fought back the unshed tears. Everything that I put into my bad was another part of my life that was no longer a part of this family. Piece by piece, brick by brick, the strong foundation that my family was built on was removed.
She did look at me a couple of times like she wanted to say something, but then she would shake her head and stare back at the wall. There was nothing to be said. In a way, Savannah said it all last night. I was a shit father. I was gone, and Mr. Mike was here.
"You don't have to go." I heard her say in a barely audible voice. I stopped packing for a moment. I didn't look at her. I couldn't look at her. I just stood there, looking at my seabag full of clothes.
My brain raced, trying to formulate words. I just couldn't seem to find the right ones to express the torrent of pain and anger that was inside of me. I opened my mouth a few times in an attempt to speak, but nothing came out.
There we sat in our once happy bedroom. We were three feet away from each other, but we were miles apart. Neither of us could look at the other.
"I......I do still love you Jason."
You still love me? Did I hear that correctly? This bitch fucks another guy and all she can say is she still loves me?
The anger took over. It welled up inside of me. I was about to lash out and start the screaming again when I heard Savannah out in the hallway. Not wanting to put her through another episode of what happened last night, I swallowed the bile and I started packing again. Alicia, seeing the futility of any conversation, got up and left the room.
As I was walking toward my front door....her front door....I saw Savannah standing in the hallway watching me. I stopped and made eye contact with her, searching her eyes for the daughter that I left a year ago.
What I saw was a confused little girl who was in a lot of pain. She looked up at me with a face that was so angelic, yet so torn with emotions. Her eyes didn't have any tears in them, but I could tell she was a few moments away from breaking down sobbing. No matter how much I wanted to, I couldn't hate her. I could hate my unfaithful wife. But not her.
"No matter what happens, Savannah Banana, I just want you to know that I will always love you. You are my world."
Finally, the wall that had been built up cracked. The tears fell freely and she broke. My heart melted as she rushed over to me and wrapped her little arms around my waist.
"I'm so sorry daddy! I didn't mean it! Please don't go! This is all my fault!"
I dropped my seabag and hugged my little girl. There was no stopping my tears now. In my peripheral vision, I could see Alicia bring her hands up to her mouth as she watched the scene in front of her. I couldn't see her eyes, but I'm certain that she was crying.
"Sweetheart, I need you to listen to me." I pulled her away from and kneelt down so that I was eyelevel with her. As her tear soaked eyes met mine's, I could see into her soul. It was broken.
"This is not your fault. This has nothing to do with you. This is between me and mommy. We have to figure some things out and need some time apart. Don't you ever for one second believe that this is your fault."
Okay, so I lied. It actually was a little bit her fault. But are you going to tell an 8 year old that she was partly to blame for breaking up her family?
"I love you Banana. Just because I'm going to be sleeping on the ship doesn't mean that you're not ever going to see me."
She hiccupped and swung her arms around my neck, gripping me tightly. "Last time you went on the ship you never came back."
Fuck. What do you say to that?
I calmed her down and promised to be back tomorrow. There was nothing that could be said. I would just have to show her.
Life limped on for a few months. I did manage to visit Savannah almost every day. She became the little girl that I left behind, albeit a lot sadder. I took her out to eat, we went to movies, I even took her to Lego Land (those out in California should know about Lego Land). We became the dynamic duo. As sad as this situation was, I was growing closer to my daughter than I had in years. It's sad that it took this for me to realize that I wasn't as attentive to her as I could've been. Since we had to move out here to San Diego, she's been basically alone. I didn't realize just how lonely she felt. All of her cousins, her family, her friends, were back home. Alicia and I were all she had. Then, with me going out to sea, she was left vulnerable. Kind of like an open wound. Maybe if I'd been more attentive to how lonely my girls were, Mr. Mike wouldn't have stood a chance. Maybe.......
I had to cut myself off right there. That bitch cheated. Not me. I can forgive my daughter. She's eight. She doesn't have the full capacity to understand what she's feeling. But the cunt that I married knew EXACTLY what she was doing. She let that asshole infiltrate my family and weave himself into their lives. She allowed him to worm his way between her legs and into their hearts.
As for Alicia and I, we were as cordial as we could be in front of Savannah. Though our brief conversations were dripping with fake pleasantries, we kept up the appearance of a united front. The hurt and the pain was brimming beneath the surface, but we held it together.
I still was unable to look her in the eyes when we were in the same room. My mind filled with so many questions that I both needed to know but didn't want to hear. On top of that, looking at her just drove home what I lost. With her new found hotness, it was difficult for me to not be regretful.
On a few occasions I could feel that she was gathering the courage to get "that conversation" started. You know, the one where we figure out what the hell we were doing. When I felt the build-up towards it, I found a reason to leave the room. I know it was a bit childish, but I wasn't ready yet. Plus, I wanted her to stew in her misery for a little bit. The uncertainty was miserable for her, and that made me want to draw it out. I didn't want her to feel the relief of "getting it off of her chest". I definitely wasn't ready to absolve her.
