Chapter 136 - That Fateful Night, Changed Our Lives

Jon drags his ass and things through the front door of the house that he shares with his wife.  Still hung over from his extra marital fling, he wants nothing more than to lie in their bed and try to forget about it.

 The girl, the night and the punching of his best friend.  He's never felt that much rage, but maybe it's because he did the unthinkable and for some reason took it out on his band mates, his brother and right now, he's beating himself up pretty badly.

He kicks his Nike's off just inside the door, drops his road bag and keeps going.  He needs to be in a place where he shared true love, with a woman he truly loves.  He's punishing himself as he grabs her pillow, brings it to his face and inhales.  Deeply.  His heart hurts.   

It's at that moment that Jon can really feel what's he's done.  He gets flashes of empathy for what he's done to himself - but in that moment, he sees that he has destroyed the one real, the one pure thing in his life.  He loves her more than he's ever loved anyone.  He loves her more than he ever thought possible, and here he is, crying in her pillow, telling her how sorry he is that he's cheated on her.  He begs her for forgiveness and then remembers why he left that night to go to the bar.  To drink and forget that his wife was taking pictures of Rick Springfield in the shower.  To his surprise, he's not angry anymore.  He's feeling like he let Monica down in more than ways than one.  He didn't support her, made her feel terrible for loving what she's doing and then he's broke a vow!?  He knows he can't tell her.  She can never find out.  After all that they have been through, this would kill her.  There is no way she can find out.  No one knows for sure, so he can deny it, if need be.  And then he tells himself, "You have to tell her.  You promised, no secrets.  But then again, asshole, you promised to be loyal to her until the day you die."  His head buries deeper into the pillow, inhaling the scent of the woman that he loves, longing for her touch, longing to hear her voice.  To just touch her, kiss her and most importantly - tell her what he's done and beg her for her forgiveness.

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The birds outside woke Jon from his deep, deep slumber.  The slumber that he needed to clear his head, lift the fog and try to forget the woman that he mistreated in Texas.  Rolling over, he grabs his jacket off the floor and pulls out his Marlboro's, lighting one.  He inhales deeply, holding the smoke to feel the burn, at the very least, he deserved to feel some pain.  He looks over at the empty side of the bed and his heart hurts again.  With his head clearer and his emotions in check, he feels terrible still, but the urge to vomit has passed.  Another long drag off the cigarette, his eyes focus on a necklace that Monica has hanging over her vanity mirror.  He remembers buying that for her in Japan.   She was enamored when he gave it to her.  He could see that it held a special place in her heart.  After a few more minutes, he leans over and grabs the phone.  He angrily dials Doc's number.  After a few rings he answers, "Hello?"

"Doc, book me on a flight to Japan.  If you can't get me a flight, rent me a jet.  I'm going to Japan."

"Wait....what?"  Doc stutters, out of breath.  "When?"

"NOW! Call me with the details."  the phone call ends.

Jon lays there and waits.  He can't decide if he's hungry or if the emptiness that he's feeling is because his wife is gone.  Another drag of the cigarette and he decides he's hungry.  He pours himself out of bed, reaching for the jeans on the floor.  With his cigarette pinched between his lips, the smoke bellowing up in to his eyes, he pulls the jeans on and heads in to the kitchen.  He can see kids playing on the sidewalk, he can hear the birds chirping in the trees- all things that he would usually love to hear, but right now all he wants is to hear that phone ring and his manager to tell him that he has a seat secured on the next flight to Japan.

Jon brews a pot of coffee, tossing the marlboro in the sink.  He then scrambles some eggs and toasts some bread, with a heavy guilt sitting in the dead center of his stomach.  He can feel the tension in his neck as he sits there and tries to eat.  Neither the food or the coffee can take any of that away.  

As he finishes his breakfast, he pushes the plate back and sits back in the char, feet propped up on the chair across from him.  His thoughts are random, yet they're centered.  He is trying to figure out what he's going to say to Monica.  How he's going to tell her that he's cheated on her and that he's sorry.  He can visualize the hurt on her face, he knows how she's going to react.  She's going to throw the closest thing to her, at him.  She's going to scream, she's going to cry and once again - she's going to feel devastation.   His thoughts then go back to that night in Las Vegas where he needed to tell her that she miscarried.  

His coffee cup to his lips, he starts to drift with his thoughts.  He gets stuck back in Las Vegas and the night that they got married.  He's stuck in the heartbreak that they shared and can't seem to follow the thought pattern that got them through it.  He can't recall what kept them together, other than the love that they shared.  With the cup to his lips, he softly whisper, "I love her."

Jon cleans up his breakfast mess, keeping an eye on the time.  It's been 37 minutes since he talked to Doc, "What the hell Doc, it doesn't take this long to book a flight."  He says to himself, drying his hands with the towel.  Jon tosses the towel on the counter and reaches for the phone on the all.  As he's just about to grab it, it rings.  He quickly snatches it up and blurts in the the receiver, "It's about time!" 

"Time for what?" he hears in the sweetest of voices.  

"Monica, babe!  HI!  How are you?"  he puts on his game face and his million dollar throaty whisper.

"Who were you expecting?" she asks with a shyness, "Do you need to hand up so you don't miss your call?"  Monica is in her hotel room in Japan.  She was fighting restlessness so she decided to see if Jon had made it home yet.  She misses him and during times when they're apart, she calls him just to soothe her soul.  

Jon smiles at her questions, as that is his Monica.  She always gets concerned for him when she's away and she's thought a few times that he can't make it without her, and he can't.  "No babe.  My call can wait."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah."  Jon looks over at the clock and does some quick math.  "What are you doing up, it's like 1 am over there."

"Can't sleep." she admits.  "When did you get home?" she asks.

Jon quickly clears his throat, "We got in late last night."  His heart starts to race, seeing how his thoughts took him back to his indiscretion.  "Why can't you sleep?  What's going on?"

Monica lays back on her pillows and softly stretches, "I don't know.  I just think I miss you madly."

"Madly?"  he laughs.  He has always adored the way that she coddled over him, the cute things that she would say.  If he ever doubted her love for him, his doubts were easily erased by the way she would say things to him.  He knows that her words weren't rehearsed and that they were her own. 

"Yeah madly.  So much in fact, I was thinking of coming home this weekend, for the weekend - but I don't know what you have planned.  Can you fit me in?"  He can hear her smile and to him, that was just a dagger to the heart.  

Jon laughs, as he hops up on the kitchen counter, pushing his hair off his face.  "Fit you in?  I'll always fit you in!"  He assures her.  "Home for the weekend though?  You'll be flying most of it."

"I have Friday through Sunday off.  So, if I spend most of it in the air, who cares, I'll get to see you." she confesses, showing a little vulnerability.  She misses her husband.  "I just need to see you."

Jon pauses, thinking about her idea and that he has Doc booking him a flight to Tokyo.  "What if I come see you?"

"You'd fly to Japan?" she's shocked.  She doesn't know all of the details to his schedule, but she's pretty sure that he's very busy in the immediate future.

"I would.  I can. I will." he eagerly responds, only because he needs to see her.  His guilt and his love will drive him to do just about anything at this point.  "I can book a flight."

Monica pauses this time.  She wraps her self up in her blanket, needing to feel that security.  "How was your show?"

"Good." he quickly responds.

"Good turn out?" she follows with, knowing that it was a benefit concert to help kids stay off drugs.  

Jon thinks for a minute, the night of the show was one big blur.  He fought with her and then cheated on her.  That whole night was nothing but a mess and his brain wants him to forget it.  "Yeah, it was a good sized crowd."

"My friend Erica was there.  She said it was a great show."

Jon quickly runs her 'friends' through his mind.  The name Erica doesn't jump out at him.  "Erica?"

"She runs with Bruce." meaning that she's part of Bruce Springsteen's road crew.  "She was home for a funeral and thought she'd check out my husband on stage."

"That's cool.  Glad she liked it." was all he could think to say.  

"She really liked how you picked her up at Smitty's and took her back to your room."  Monica states, with no affect.  Jon's heart jumped out of his chest, hit the floor and hid under the refrigerator.  

The phone went dead.