Chapter 16
Chapter
Sixteen
Joel
F or the first time in as long as I can remember, I feel at peace.
Last night changed something in me. I felt at ease with myself. I felt protected with having Edith lay beside me—a feeling I haven’t felt in years—and I welcomed that with open arms.
I hadn’t realised how much I’ve longed to have that connection with another—having someone wanting my touch who provides the same in return. I’ve wanted to feel wanted. I’ ve needed to be seen and, my god, does she make me feel that way.
I’d wanted to remember every single part of being with her the second she was in my arms: the way her body curves in all the right places; the way she’d felt under me and around me; the way her eyes had held me captive, drawing me into her more; and the way my name had escaped from her lips, wrapping around every part of me like a blanket. Every moment with Edith, I’d found myself falling deeper.
I hadn’t known what to expect when I woke, but it certainly wasn’t the big space in the bed beside me, and it’s caused my mind to run wild.
Getting out of bed, I slip on some jeans and head out of my bedroom, finding that Edith has also cleared her things from the spare room.
She wouldn’t leave without a word, would she?
Greeting Milo, who waits patiently at the bottom of the stairs with his tail wagging, I make my way through the silence of the house.
I eventually find her in the kitchen with her arms outstretched on the edge of the sink and her head between her shoulders.
I want nothing more than to wrap my arms around her, but the tension in her body stops me.
“Oh, God,” she breathes .
“That bad, huh?”
I startle her, and the second she turns around, I see the trepidation all over her face. “Joel. I didn’t know you were awake.”
“You okay?”
“Fine. Just feeling a little rough because of the alcohol.”
I huff out a laugh and step closer. “I’ve seen you drink far more and feel okay.”
“Then it’s age. I’m a year older now after all.”
“Well, there is that.”
I step closer again, wanting to touch her, but she steps away before I have a chance. Hating the knock back and unsure on what to do, I fill the kettle with water and go about preparing us both a drink—anything to take away this sudden air of tension I’ve just walked into. I shouldn’t have expected anything less given the fact Edith tends to overthink, but at the same time, it surprises me.
“Do you want a brew?” I ask, feeling her watch my every move.
“No. I’m good, thank you.”
“Anything to eat?”
“No. I’m okay.”
This suspense between us is killing me, and now I’m unsure who is acting more awkward towards the other. It’s like the last thirteen years are nothing but a distant memory and last night never even existed.
Turning, I lean against the kitchen counter, crossing my legs at the ankles and looking right at her.
Her eyes drift over my torso before they slowly meet mine. There’s a look in them that I can’t read, but it’s enough to have me saying, “Is this the part where you tell me last night was a mistake and that you regret it?”
Her face pales as if my question to her is more of a statement about my feelings. “Is that what you think?”
“It’s not about what I think. I’m asking you.” How could I possibly regret the one thing that I’ve wanted for too long?
Her eyes lower to her fingers that fidget with the hem of her shirt. “No,” she murmurs. “I don’t regret it.”
“But?”
“But I think I should go.”
My stomach drops, but I push myself off the counter and go over to her anyway, taking her face in my hands. “Should or want to? Because I don’t want you to go, and I don’t want you to feel as if you should either.”
“Joel.”
“Which is it, Edie? ”
“Both. I feel I should go as well as wanting to.”
“Why? It doesn’t have to be like this.”
“It’s not like anything. I just need to go. I need to think.” She can hardly hold my gaze before she steps away from my touch and heads out of the kitchen, leaving my heart racing with apprehension.
I don’t get it.
I feel at a fucking loss here, which causes frustration to creep up my body with every second that passes as she shuts down. “What is there to think about, Edie?”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me. Why wouldn’t I understand.”
“Please. Just leave it.”
I can hear in her tone that I’m slowly getting to her, so I keep pushing. I hate doing it, but I know she lets shit fester until she goes out of her mind.
So, I push.
“Not until you tell me why you’re acting like this?”
She turns to face me. “Jesus, Joel. It may have escaped your attention, but we had sex last night.”
“Which you said you don’t regret.” I clarify.
“I don’t.”
“Yet it feels like I went to bed with my best friend and woke up to a fucking stranger. ”
She takes a step back as if I’ve physically punched her, tears now forming.
I feel like I’m at the top of a precipice, and no matter which way I turn, I’m going to fall. We have our disagreements, but they’ve always been resolved. This, however, is different, and the more I try and hold on to her, the harder she’s pulling to get away, and I don’t know why. Or do I? Does this have to do with who I think? I don’t even want to go there, so I dismiss it.
“Excuse me?”
I step closer, waving my hands between us so she gets my point. “This. You. You can barely look at me. Do you have any idea how shit that makes me feel?”
“How it makes you feel? There are two of us in this situation, Joel. Don’t you get that?”
“Then explain to me what is going on in that head of yours because I’m at a loss here. Why the hell are you acting like this?”
“Why are you acting like last night doesn’t come with consequences?” she snaps.
“Because it doesn’t. But clearly, the way it mattered to me is different to the way it did to you. And what you just said about not regretting it is obviously a fucking lie.”
“I wasn’t lying.”
“Then what the hell is going on? Because no matter how much you stand there ripping yourself in two, it doesn’t change the fact I know you wanted last night as much as I did.”
She confirms I’m talking truth when she looks away from me, but instead of admitting it, she shakes her head, resting her hands on her hips.
I try to calm myself because all the aggression and uncertainty aside, I still fucking want her.
With her voice now lower, she turns to look at me, determination in her eyes. “I know I was drunk. We were drunk, and troubled and—”
“We weren’t as drunk as you’re trying to make out, so don’t give me that crap. Last night we were on the same page. Now, I can’t get my head around why you’re being like this.”
“Because of Sophia!” she yells.
And there it is. The elephant in the room, which is a fucking awful thing to say because that barrier between us is my wife. Was my wife.
Like always, Sophia has found a way of weaving herself into our conversations—this one a conversation I shouldn’t even be having right now because I know damn well that deep down, Edith feels everything between us. I’m unsure if she’s using my wife as an excuse rather than admitting what is going on. Meanwhile, she’s managed to make me feel like a heartless fucker because Sophia had never once crossed my mind in the hours I’d spent with Edith.
“Don’t you feel anything? Don’t you feel like we’ve done her wrong?” Her tears now fall and I loathe myself even more for making her cry.
Lowering my voice, I look directly at her and grit out the words I’m sick of fucking saying to people. “I don’t know how many times I have to keep saying this, but Sophia is not here anymore. I have nothing to feel guilty for, and neither do you.”
“So what? We just forget she even existed?”
“Of course not. That’s not what I’m saying?”
“Then what are you saying?”
It’s now my turn to look away, frustration burning through my body from this argument that’s just gone from nought-to-sixty—something we could have sat down and talked about.
I turn back, “You’re over analysing everything here, Edie.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Silly little Edith overreacts like always. Give me a second, I’ll just tell my anxiety to pipe down because my feelings don’t matter over this.”
“For fuck’s sake. That is not what I said.”
“You’re being unreasonable here, Joel.”
My eyes widen as I stab my fingertips against my chest. “Me? You’re the one who’s blowing this whole thing up for no reason—”
“She was my sister!” she yells.
“And she was my wife!” I shout back, finally losing my temper. I take a step towards her, wanting to shake some fucking sense into her. “But she’s gone, Edith, and as much as it hurts, it’s true. I can’t change that. You can’t change that. I just want to move on. I have moved on.”
“And yet you’re still wearing your fucking wedding ring!”
An ice-cold silence descends between us as her eyes widen. It’s enough to tell me she’s shocked by her own words, but they have already pierced through my heart like a fucking arrow—not because they hurt but because it’s true. No matter how much I stand and protest to myself or to anyone else that I’ve moved on, it’s not lost on me that the band that connects me to my wife is still firmly on my finger.
The raw, gut-wrenching feeling of failure I’ve felt so many times causes my throat to burn as I swallow the lump that is now lodged in my throat, my tears threatening.
I don’t wear it because I’m too afraid to let go. I don’t wear it because I haven’t accepted my loss. I don’t wear it because it’s all I have of her. I wear it because I see it as some twisted souvenir of how I fucked up so badly. I wear it as the punishment I rightly deserve because her death is on me. I wear it because it’s a reminder that I can’t fuck up like that again. Yet now I’m caught up in another conflict because of it, and I don’t know how to make it stop.
“Joel,” she whispers, the pain in her voice noticeable. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean…” She steps towards me, looking so distraught as her tears fall, and I want nothing more than to comfort her—which is ironic because I’m the one who feels like I’ve been kicked in the chest. How did we even get to this point?
It was never meant to be like this.
Only a few hours ago, my heart had been filled with warmth, something I’ve not felt for some time. Now, it’s colder than it’s ever been.
The slightest touch of her fingers on my bare chest has my skin breaking out in chills. My jaw is locked, my eyes closed, and for someone who’d needed space, she’s dangerously close, so much so, I can’t breathe. The touch of her feels like she’s rebooted my heart, melting away the icy patches that had been slowly closing over me.
“That was wrong of me,” she whispers. “Forgive me. Please.”
The truth is, there’s nothing to forgive. I’m just not ready to explain to her, or anyone, why her remark has hit me hard. How can I forgive her for something that only I can change?
“Look at me, Joel,” she whispers.
Finding her eyes, I suck in a breath. She looks beautiful yet broken, and I want nothing more than to change that. We’ve both said things we shouldn’t have and caused this to blow up unnecessarily. I want to make this right, too, because the thought of not having Edith is crucifying me.
“Forgive me,” she repeats. “You must know I didn’t mean that.”
“I forgive you,” I whisper. “But where do we go from here?”
“How do you mean?”
“I can’t let you walk out that door without knowing we are okay.”
If you were to playback the last few minutes, anyone looking in would think we were far from that, but deep down, pushing through all my confusion, I know we will be okay. I just need to hear it from her.
“We will be. I just need time. You have to understand that?”
I nod, cupping her cheeks as I wipe away her tears with my thumbs. “I can’t lose you, Edie,” I whisper.
“You won’t.” Her soft smile reassures me. Without Edith I have nothing. She is everything to me. She is my world. Always has been.
“Promise me.”
“I promise,” she whispers.
With the overwhelming need to feel her comfort, and having her so close, I break down the wall she’s been building between us. Because if there is one person who can make me forget all the demons, it’s her.
I step closer, feeling her resistance slipping away second by second. She feels this, no matter how hard she tries to deny it or how much she fights back with words and warnings.
“Joel…”
I don’t know if my name on her lips is one of those warnings or if it’s a plea, but either way, it doesn’t stop me.
“I can’t lose you,” I whisper against her lips, right before I press my mouth to hers. I kiss her like she’s a delicate rose, and her shudder only encourages me more.
The chaos in my mind is erased as she allows me to take her captive. Our bodies mould into each other, her knees weaken and I let my heart expand as I’m taken deeper, gaining once again what I’ve always wanted: her .
But like the devil is pulling the restraints, she presses her hands against my chest, breaking the kiss.
“Joel.” She exhales against my mouth. “I can’t.” Stepping back, the plea in her big, beautiful eyes is prominent, and even though I know I need to give her what she’s asking, it’s going to be hard watching her walk away.
“Tell me we are okay,” I murmur.
She smooths the back of her hand over my cheek before leaving a soft kiss in its place. “We will be okay. I just need time,” she whispers. “I just need to think.”
Knowing she’s leaving to do that only makes me want to hold her more because I know just how much stress she is going to put on herself. Yet, out of respect, I nod and step back, picking up her bag to give it to her before opening the door.
Before she leaves, my words make her halt, and I make sure she knows I’m not going to give up on this.
“I’ll do anything for you, Edie, but I won’t let you run from this—not when I know you feel what we share.”
Without looking back, she heads out of the door and the ache in my chest doubles with her absence.
I just hope that I’ve not ruined the one thing in my life that helps me breathe.