by Staci Hart
"I'm through talking." And with that, he blew through the door, slamming it hard enough to make the windows rattle.
She stood there in front of the door with her back to me, shoulders heaving for a long moment. And when she whipped around, her face was twisted, contorted with rage.
"You," she whispered. "Get out."
I swallowed. "Whatever you want," I said as I walked to my coat, slipping my feet in the boots that I'd left in the entry after the snow.
"Get out. Get out! Get out!" she shrieked, and I slipped on my coat, grabbing my bag.
Heat radiated off of her as I walked past and opened the door. "I'm telling him tonight." My words were firm, quiet, and when I closed the door behind me, she screamed, the sound punctuated by the thump of something hitting the door.
23
Revelation
Revelations
Begin and end
With the truth.
* * *
-M. White
* * *
Wade
The front door opened and slammed shut, and Ben and I shared a wary look, neither of us expecting Sophie to blow into the living room, fuming.
"I need to talk to you." Her eyes were razorblades.
Ben nodded. "I'll, ah, give you guys a minute," he said as he left, abandoning me.
Her lips pinched, her whole body coiled up like a spring. "You slept with Elliot."
A jolt shot up my spine. I nodded.
"How could you do that to her, Wade? How?" she said, the words like daggers. "You know she still loves you, and you still love her, but I don't even know if you deserve her. Not after what you've put her through."
"Sophie—"
"I used to, you know," she said as she began to pace like a caged animal. "All this time I've tried to be understanding, tried to see your side, had your back and supported your decision even though I disagreed. I never asked you about her, not once, even though I knew you were both hurting. Especially her. Because, unlike you, she actually talks to me."
"Sophie, if you would just listen—"
"And you come back here, treat her like a pariah, and then go over there and take advantage of her?" She shook her head. "I don't even know who you are anymore."
"Stop!" I shouted, her words cutting through me. "Just hang on and let me speak."
"Why? Are you going to deny it?"
"No, but—"
"So you've just got a bunch of excuses. Imagine that," she scoffed.
I stood, frustration coursing through me, making it impossible to sit still. "It's not like that."
She crossed her arms and glared at me. "Well, then, explain it to me."
"Are you going to interrupt me?"
"I'll give you two minutes."
I ran my hand down my face, pressing my eyes with my fingers, sorting back through the days, trying to decide where to start. So I started at the beginning.
"I've always loved her, since the first moment I saw her, and that has never changed. Didn't matter how badly I wanted it to."
Her face softened by the smallest degree.
"If things had been different, if I'd come here for any other reason but for Dad, maybe I would have known what to do about her. But I didn't. I didn't handle anything the way I should and now … now I've ruined everything, hurt everyone. Even you and Sadie. I went there that night because I knew she was the only person in the world who would understand, the only one who could remind me that there was a reason to live. She was the only one I could turn to. And then … I was scared. I've been scared since I walked into that hospital, all the way up until we put him in the ground. But right now I'm not scared. Now I'm only ashamed, empty, wounded. This whole time, I've needed her, but I couldn't have her, couldn't see past myself to tell her. And now that I understand what I've done, it's too late."
Her anger melted away, and she covered her lips with her fingers, shaking her head as she sank onto the couch. "Wade …"
"I'm sorry, Sophie," I pleaded. "I'm sorry I haven't been here for you, but I didn't know how. I'm sorry I hurt you, but I was too hurt to give of myself. I'm sorry I left you over and over again, but I was afraid of what I'd do if I stayed. Please, forgive me."
"I forgive you," she said quietly after a moment. "Why didn't you talk to me? Why didn't you tell me?"
I took the seat next to her and leaned forward, resting my forearms on my thighs. "I didn't know what to say, how to act. I couldn't deal, Soph. Not with any of it. And to have Elliot here on top of everything was just too much."
"You've got to talk to her."
I clasped my hands between my knees and squeezed. "I want to. I do, but I … I've made so many mistakes. So many. Too many."
She laid her hands around mine, and I looked up to meet her eyes. "Wade, she loves you. You just have to find a way to tell her you love her too. Make it up to her. Get her back, beg her forgiveness. She'll say yes — I know it. Maybe not at first, but she's been waiting here for you to forgive her for seven years. Give that to her and tell her you were wrong and I don't think there's a chance she'll say no."
After what I'd said to her, after what I'd done, it seemed like forgiveness was a pipe dream, a carrot on a string I'd almost had in my hands over and over again. I needed to think, needed time.
Time. Time. Time.
It was the one thing I'd never been afforded, no matter how I begged and pleaded. And now … now I knew I needed to make the most of it.
Sophie gripped my hands. "Just think about it."
I nodded, and when she shifted to embrace me I found myself overcome.
The doorbell rang, and she pulled away. "I'll get it," she said, touching my shoulder before she walked away.
Elliot's voice carried into the room from the entry, and I straightened up, my heart ticking faster with surprise and anticipation. With fear. But I pulled myself up and ventured out to face her.
"She told me to leave. I found her in the kitchen with—" She stopped when she saw me, and her face shut down, closed off. "With Jack. Mary and Jack are having an affair."
Sophie gasped, and a war of emotions washed over me. Relief that they weren't together. Rage that he could hurt her. Sadness that I couldn't have protected her. My chest ached at the realization that I couldn't even protect her from myself.
"I can't believe it," Sophie breathed. "For how long?"
"Years. I was apparently a pawn in his attempt to persuade her to leave Charlie."
"Oh, my God. Are you all right?"
Elliot nodded. "I never wanted him like that. He was only a friend." She didn't look at me once, but I knew the words were meant for me.
"Poor Charlie. And the kids." Sophie shook her head, mouth gaping in shock. "What … what are you going to do?"
"I told her she has until tonight to tell Charlie the truth before I did."
Sophie blinked. "You're kidding."
Elliot shook her head. "I'm going back over there tonight, but … I might need a place to stay for a little bit. I'm so sorry to even ask, but—"
"Don't be ridiculous," Sophie said, taking her hand. "You can always stay here, as long as you need."
"Thank you." Relief was heavy in her voice. "I'm going to have to figure something out. I don't know if I'll ever be welcome there again."
"You're always welcome here," I said, wanting some interaction with her, anything. But she stiffened, her lips and voice flat and formal.
"Thank you."
Sophie asked, "Want to sleep in my room?"
Elliot softened again when she looked back at Sophie. "That would be nice."
"Then it's settled." Sophie's phone rang, and she swore when she checked it. "It's Jeannie. I've been avoiding her calls since yesterday. Give me one second, okay?"
Elliot smiled and began unwinding her scarf. "Okay."
Sophie answered and walked toward the back of the house, and Elliot and I stood in the entry in silence. She went about the business of taking her coat and hat off, hanging them on the pe
gs on the wall as I fumbled with what to say, how to start.
"Elliot, I—"
She turned at the sound of her name, her eyes deep and sad. "Please, don't," she said softly. "It was hard enough to come here without us doing this again. I just had nowhere else to go."
I nodded my response. She didn't want to talk to me, as I suspected, and I knew better than to force her. Because I could, and she might submit. But I didn't want her to submit. I wanted to earn her love.
I would give her that precious time she needed, but I wouldn't give up. I wouldn't run away. Not this time.
Elliot
My heart hammered in my chest at the confrontation, but he didn't press me, only nodded and turned for the stairs, making his way into his room. The second his door closed, I could breathe freely again.
I was standing in the last place I wanted to be and the only place I could think of to go. I needed Sophie, but Wade was where she was, and the unsuspected consequence of pushing him back was that it felt like I'd made everything worse, more complicated.
But I wasn't sorry. And I didn't want to hear what he had to say.
I'd exhausted all hope that he'd tell me he wanted me, that he would say that he loved me, that he was sorry, that he wished he could erase the last seven years all the way up to yesterday and start over. The likely answer was that he wanted to argue more, blame me for everything, and that just wasn't something I could take. Not today. Not ever.
Sophie appeared again. "God, I'm sorry. She needed to know we were all still breathing over here, but I just couldn't deal with it yesterday."
"I'm sure she understood."
"She did, thankfully." She slipped her phone into her back pocket. "So, I think I know what we should do while you wait to detonate your sister's marriage." I flinched, and Sophie took my hand, smiling. "I'm kidding. She handled all that C-4 well enough on her own."
A chuckle puffed out of me.
"I think we should bake cookies."
"That does sound like it would make life a little better."
She hooked her arm in mine. "It's science."
* * *
We spent the next few hours making and eating cookies until we felt sick. The house was relatively quiet — Wade never came back down, Ben was out with Lou, and Sadie was staying with her friend still. No one faulted her for that, and I don't think Sophie or Wade knew if it was right or wrong. They'd be her parents now, an overwhelming task that neither of them knew how to perform.
But that afternoon, nothing else mattered. There were no problems other than how much sugar we had left and if there were enough chocolate chips in the batter. There was just me and Sophie and the task at hand, our conversation finding its way to us, easily, happily, devoid of anything important. But in that simplicity, we found comfort, levity in an otherwise weighted day, week, life.
Things always change, I said to myself, finding comfort in the platitude. Life is fluid — sometimes with cresting, white-capped waves, other times with an eerie stillness, a quiet surface. But it was never the same, day to day. And as sure as one day was up, the next may be down. Letting yourself ride the surface instead of kicking and fighting or sinking to the bottom like a stone was the only way to survive intact.
The sun had gone down and the temperature dropped, and too soon, I had to go back. The thought of walking through the door of my sister's house gripped my stomach, but there was no choice left to make. No more would I let her have her way. No more would I suffer, nor would I let Charlie suffer for the sake of what she wanted.
They'd never cared for me, my family, and I'd sacrificed so much for them. My self, my future. Wade.
My sister's betrayal and my loyalty to Charlie and myself fueled me, and I put on my coat and hat and scarf like I was going into war, not knowing who I'd be when I returned.
It was cold outside but warmer than it had been, as if my fire had warmed up the whole world. I felt strange, changed, alive and brave, even though I was scared. But what I'd realized was that the brave aren't immune to fear. It's only that their fear doesn't stop them.
I stood on the stoop for a long moment, staring at the knocker, gathering myself up. And then, I knocked.
Mary opened the door with a whoosh that sucked the cold air past me and over her, making her shiver just once as she glared at me, teeth bared.
"Get out of here, Elliot."
"Did you tell him?" I asked simply.
"Leave."
"Who is it?" Charlie asked, approaching the door. "Elliot? Why did you knock?" he asked with confusion on his face. "You have a key."
Mary warned me with her eyes, furious eyes edged with fear, shouting warning at me. I ignored her.
"Mary told me to leave, so I didn't think it was appropriate to just walk in, given the circumstance."
His face bent even more. "Asked you to leave?"
"May I come in?" I asked.
"No," Mary shot just as Charlie said yes. He made a face at her and pulled the door open wider, touching her arm to move her from where she stood blocking my entry.
"What's going on?" he asked her as I passed.
"Nothing. She was just leaving, weren't you?" she asked pointedly, and I turned to face her, accusing.
"I have nothing left to lose, which leaves you nothing to bargain with."
Charlie watched us, trying to find his footing. "Let me take your coat."
"No, that's all right. I won't be staying long." I looked into his eyes, apologizing with all my heart, hoping he'd understand. "Mary didn't tell you, did she?"
"Tell me what? Will somebody please tell me what in God's name is going on?" he asked with wide eyes and fear riding his voice.
I looked at my sister. "It's your last chance."
Her face wrenched up, red and angry as tears flooded her eyes, catching in a line at her lashes. "Don't. This is none of your business, Elliot. Just shut up. Shut the fuck up right now."
I took a deep breath and released it, hoping he knew how sorry I was. "She's having an affair with Jack."
Charlie stood dumbfounded next to me, brow bent as if he didn't understand what I'd said. "That … that can't …"
I said nothing.
"She's lying," Mary cried, reaching for Charlie, fisting his shirt in her hands. "Please, believe me."
He searched her face before looking back to me, then back at her.
"Why would Elliot lie?" he asked.
"Because she hates me." Mary was frantic and feverish, her eyes searching his for purchase. "She's jealous because I have everything she wants. She just wants to hurt me, hurt us. She's probably in love with you and wants me out of the way. You know she's obsessed with mothering the kids. Our kids."
But her words couldn't touch me — I kept my eyes on him and my heart on task as my father and sister appeared next to the staircase, staring silently. "They were here in the kitchen this afternoon. I heard everything. Jack only pretended to be interested in me as leverage, to convince her to leave you. They said they've loved each other for years … and when I walked in, they were kissing."
"No," he whispered.
Emotion welled in my chest at the impossibility of it all. The right thing felt wrong, so wrong, the betrayal and disbelief on his face breaking me.
"You liar," she growled through her teeth. "You fucking liar," she shrieked and flew at me. We tumbled to the ground as she slapped and scratched at me for a split second before Charlie pulled her away.
He grabbed her by the arms and bent to level his eyes with hers, holding her still. Her eyes were still locked on me.
"Mary," he commanded, and she finally looked at him, her anger melting away, turning to pitiful sorrow. "Is it true?"
Her mouth opened to speak, but nothing came out, her eyes bouncing between his, her brows pinched.
He shook her once. "Mary! Tell me. Tell me the truth." A fat tear slipped down her cheek.
"It wasn't supposed to be like this," she whispered.
His chest heaved, jaw
locked, nostrils flaring as he took it in. "With Jack?" he asked after a moment.
"We never meant to hurt you," she said feebly, her words shaking, and he let her go, backing away from her slowly. She lunged for him, grabbing his shirtfront. "Don't, please don't go. Please, let me explain," she begged, desperation thick in her voice.
He ripped her hands away, holding her back by her wrists. "Nothing you can say will change what you've done." He let her go and turned his back on her, his hands shaking as he helped me up. "Are you all right?" he asked gently.
"Who cares about her? This is her fault," she screamed as I nodded. Charlie whipped his head around to glare at her.
"No, this is your fault. You did this to me. To our children." His voice broke. "You did this, and it can't be undone." He turned for the stairs. "Get out, Mary. Take your things and leave. And don't come back."
"Charlie!" she cried, scrambling up the stairs after him. "Please. Please don't say that. Don't do this. If you'd just talk to me—"
"You can talk to my lawyer." He stormed up the rest of the stairs and slammed the bedroom door.
Mary stood halfway up the stairs, her eyes on the space where he'd stood only a few seconds before. And in that moment, she seemed small, stripped of her pride, of her marriage, her dignity. I reminded myself that she'd made this choice. That it wasn't my fault.
It didn't stop me from feeling responsible all the same.
She finally turned, her rage contorting her face. "You couldn't keep your fucking mouth shut, and now look at what you've done. I've done everything for you, you ingrate, and this is how you repay me?"
"You treat me as if I've done nothing for you. Like I haven't endured you for all these years. You ask me to lie when you've never given me anything, not even something so simple as your love. But if you cared about anyone other than yourself, you wouldn't have asked that of me. You wouldn't have cheated in the first place."
"Get out, Elliot!" she screamed. "Get out."
Charlie appeared at the top of the stairs again, his face flat and angry and cold. "Leave her alone, Mary. You've bullied her long enough."
