Chapter 10 #2
Voices rise on the other side. They are both shouting now.
He opens the door just enough for us to see. Judas rests his chin on top of my head and kisses it softly, holding me close as we watch everything unfold on the other side of the door.
“How long, William?” Catherine shouts, shoving his chest. He stumbles back a step.
“Three years,” he says, lifting his hands like that might soften it.
Her breath catches. “So you fucked her while I was in the hospital.” She pushes him again, harder now, her hands shaking. “While I was trying to stay alive.”
He just stands there, jaw locked so tight it looks like it might crack. “I didn’t plan it.”
A laugh rips out of her. “You never do. That’s always the excuse, isn’t it?”
“I thought I was going to lose you,” he says. “You were gone. You wouldn’t look at me. You wouldn’t talk to me.”
“I was depressed,” she fires back. “I had just tried to kill myself.”
His throat moves. Once. “I know.”
“No.” Catherine steps closer, her finger pressing into his chest. “You don’t. Because if you did, you wouldn’t have climbed into someone else’s bed while I was being watched, so I wouldn’t do it again.”
“She listened,” he snaps suddenly. “She talked to me. She took care of me. I didn’t live in fear that I’d come home and find her dead the next day.”
Catherine freezes.
Her voice drops to a whisper. “Do you hear yourself?”
She shakes her head slowly. “Poor William. Always thinking about himself.”
“I didn’t go looking for it,” he says, dragging a hand through his hair.
“Three years,” she screams. “You kept me here for three years, distracting me with shiny things so I wouldn’t feel lonely, when all I needed was for you to fucking love me, William.” Her voice breaks. “Do you?”
“I stayed,” he says.
“That wasn’t the fucking question,” she shouts. “Do you love me, William?”
He says nothing.
She pushes him again. They are too close to the edge of the staircase now.
“Well,” she whispers, “that answers it.” Her voice shakes. “And yes, you stayed. And you betrayed me every single day.”
Her shoulders slump, the fight draining out of her.
“I almost died,” she says quietly. “And you found someone else to make you feel better about it.”
“I don’t love you anymore,” he shouts, the words finally tearing loose. “I don’t love us anymore. I don’t love who I am with you. We bring out the worst in each other. We force perfection so hard that everything else around us is breaking.”
Tears spill down her face as she turns away from him, her back stiff, shaking.
“Just go,” she screams.
“That’s the thing,” he yells back. “If I fucking do, I know you will do something stupid and ruin everything all over again. I am so fucking afraid of losing you that I am destroying this home.”
“Home?” she shouts, spinning around.
Judas wraps his arms around me, holding me in place.
His hands are trying to ground him, keeping him standing. These are his parents. This is the house he grew up in. And somehow I am standing in the middle of it, my chest hurting for Catherine because I know that feeling.
The one where your mind turns against you, where the voices get so loud they push you toward the edge and whisper that the world would be quieter without you in it.
“Home,” she screams again. “This fucking house is anything but home.”
She shoves him. Her palms hit his chest hard.
He stumbles.
Then his foot slips.
Time slows as his body tips backward, missing the railing, and rolls down the stairs with a sickening sound of cracks, until he hits the bottom.
“William!” she screams.
She rushes down the stairs.
The bedroom door flies open. Judas bursts inside, shoving past me so fast I barely stay on my feet. I stand frozen, my hand flying to my mouth as my heart slams against my ribs.
Judas takes the stairs two at a time.
“Call 911!” Catherine is screaming as she holds him, her hands shaking, her voice breaking apart.
I step closer.
There is blood. Too much blood.
Judas is already on the floor, his hands searching for a pulse. His shirt, his arms, and his face are smeared with red as he tries to revive him. I force my legs to move and walk down the stairs. When I reach them, I grab Catherine’s arms, trying to pull her back.
“I am a murderer,” she sobs. “I killed my own husband.”
She stares at her hands, then drags them down the front of her blouse, smearing the blood. Trying to wipe it all away.
“No, Catherine,” I say, my voice shaking. “You are not a murderer. He slipped and fell.”
I turn to Judas, desperate. “Right, Judas?”
He nods without looking up, checking the pulse again.
Catherine looks at me.
I move closer to Judas. He pulls his phone from his pocket and presses it into my hands.
“Call 911,” Catherine cries again.
I do.
My heart is pounding so hard. Everything feels like 2014. all over again. The flashing images. The fear. The blame. Like history is circling back, ready to sink me back down.
Judas grabs my hand and squeezes it hard. He pulls me down until we both collapse onto the floor in front of Judge Harrington.
I am not alone anymore.
If this is what family is supposed to be, if this is meant to be my family, then family protects family.
We have to protect Catherine if he doesn’t survive.
When I hang up the phone, the sound of sirens already growing closer, I turn to her.
“Catherine,” I say. “You can’t tell them you fought. You can’t say you pushed him. You can’t mention that you were separating.”
“You,” she sobs. “You both heard everything?”
“It doesn’t matter,” I say. I turn to Judas, my chest rising as I force the words out. “We have your back. But our stories have to be the same.”
Judas nods.
“He slipped when he got home,” I say, looking at Catherine. “Got it?”
“Yes,” she whispers. “Yes.”
The sirens are loud now. I can see red and blue lights through the windows, painting the walls. Judas signs something to Catherine, then he looks at me.
“He’s right,” she says quietly. “You can’t be here. You just got here, and I don’t want them jumping to conclusions.”
Tears burn my eyes because they are both right.
“Go shower,” she says. “Then hide in the garage until Judas comes for you.”
I nod.
I step away from Judas slowly.
I run upstairs, my feet slamming the floor. And as I get inside, I lock the bedroom door behind me and lean against it, my breath coming in broken gasps.