Work Text:
i.
He loves you but he's so tired of the constant arguments. Your relationship is not like it used to be. Your jobs, the kids, a mortgage, your families... Life itself takes a toll on your marriage until one day you're screaming at him how tired raising so many kids make you. The implication he's one of them boils his blood and Adam is slamming the door before you have the chance to realize he's leaving.
ii.
The shot of whiskey is just within his reach and Adam feels his clammy hands shaking slightly against the cold bar counter. He's not gonna do this, he's not that man anymore. He needs a distraction and maybe it's his (bad) luck that a pretty tall redhead chooses that moment to sit close beside him. "Hey," she says, seductive smile painted a deep red.
iii.
The narrow bathroom stall isn't comfortable by any means and his big frame feels particularly awkward pushed against the door. The kneeling redhead fumbles with his fly while Adam stares at the grey ceiling. This is your fault, right? You pushed and pushed at him until he struck back the only way he knew how. He'll never claim to be an angel but he always assumed he was at least a halfway decent man. Was he lying when he said he'd never hurt you? Is this the man he's become?
iv.
"What's wrong baby? Aren't you having fun?" The redhead, Carol or Clarice, startles Adam back to the present. She's looking up at him from her spot on the floor, green eyes questioning while her hands expertly try to coax an erection from his limp cock. Oh. That's new. Suddenly, the sight of her manicured fingers wrapped around him fill Adam with such an overwhelming sense of shame he barely has a moment to shove Carol or Clarice aside before violently throwing up the night's dinner.
v.
You look better than you have any right to. Adam knows he looks like a fucking zombie got run over but apparently the last six months had the opposite effect on you. As he enters your home a nagging voice in the back of his mind tells him he's probably the reason you used to look so tired, before. The divorce papers sit on the small table he used to keep his screenplays, beside it a toothing toy and a half eaten cookie. "Are you sure about this?" he asks. "No, but I can't let go of what you did to us. How easily you threw me away." It hurt less when you slapped him.
vi.
"I miss our home. I miss the kids. I miss my fucking wife," he's not too proud to beg. Adam Sackler has ways been a fuck up, but this time he'll make it right. He can fix this. "Well Adam, you should've thought of that before you cheated on me!" Though your eyes are bright with unshed tears and hurt hardens your voice, he's glad. Because if you're hurt it means you still care, he still has a chance. He can have his family back. Can't he?