Take her current situation, for instance: if John had simply thought about how his absence might affect Abby’s emotional state, he might have turned up to watch the school hockey match last night instead of working late at the office. Oh, he had offered a seemingly valid excuse; he always did. But the fact that he worked long hours to help pay for the things Abby needed—school uniform, trips away, pocket money—didn’t hold much water with a father-fixated thirteen year-old looking for the slightest excuse to storm off in a huff. Sitting in the car, staring at the stationary traffic up ahead, Sheila wondered if they’d tried harder, things might have worked out differently. If she and John were still together, how much better would their lives be? Then she remembered the other small things. The lack of affection, the way he never seemed to want any kind of physical contact unless it led to sex, the countless times he’d gone out to the pub rather than sit in the house with her, just talking about their future, and then returned to paw at her until she relented.
