Chapter Fifteen #2
When I arrive, I go around the back of the house and discover Kim and Simon in the kitchen.
She’s lifting burgers from an oven tray onto split buns.
He’s retrieving some cheese from the fridge.
Their posture is stiff and jerky, and he closes the fridge door with more force than is necessary before he sees me.
“Hey you,” Kim says as I walk in. “I was wondering where you were. I’m just dishing up.” I look at her red eyes. She’s been crying.
Suddenly, I can’t bear the thought of staying. Would it be terrible of me to leave? Having someone else present can help if the atmosphere is unpleasant, but equally I comfort myself with the thought that the two of them need to sort things out, and they can’t talk while I’m there.
“I’m so sorry,” I say quietly, “I should have messaged. I can’t stay.”
Her eyebrows rise. “Oh? What are you up to?”
“I’ve found myself a place to stay. Noah King has offered me his cottage for a few weeks. I hope you don’t mind. I really need some time to myself.”
She studies the burgers for a moment. Then she says, “No, it’s okay. I mean, why would you stay? It’s a fucking unpleasant atmosphere here. Hell, even I don’t want to stay.” She gives a short, humorless laugh and slaps the tops of the bun on the burgers.
Simon comes over, pointedly removes the top of the buns, and throws a slice of cheese on each one.
“I don’t want cheese,” she snaps.
He takes it off again and tosses it on his own burger, and they glare at each other.
I turn on my heel and walk out, through to the bedroom I was staying in.
After lifting the case onto the bed, I start putting my bits and pieces into it.
My previously positive mood has dulled. I was too harsh on Jude for being afraid of our relationship mirroring Kim and Simon’s.
I couldn’t see it before, but I understand his fear now.
The pressure of having a baby has destroyed them.
Can I really blame him for not wanting to walk down the same path?
“I’m sorry.”
I turn to see Kim standing in the doorway, resting her temple against the door jamb.
I force myself to smile. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not. You’re going through all this stuff with Jude, and Simon and I can’t even force ourselves to be civil to one another. I’m so sorry.”
I go over to her and throw my arms around her neck, and we have a big hug.
When I eventually move back, we’re both sniffing and snuffling.
“I’ll be fine,” I say, with more confidence than I’m feeling.
I get my washbag from the bathroom and toss that in the case, then zip it up.
“I’m going to get the rest of my stuff from the house now, and then it’ll all be done. ”
“Do you want me to go with you?”
“No, thank you. I’ll be fine.” I pull up the handle and wheel the case past her, out to the front door.
I remember then that I was going to redo my makeup and freshen up, but it’s too late now; I don’t want to stay any longer than I have to.
“Thank you so much for letting me stay for a few nights, I really appreciate it.”
She hugs me again. I look over her shoulder to Simon in the kitchen. He’s leaning on the kitchen counter, looking out over the garden, and his expression is unutterably sad.
I move back. “Will you do one thing for me?”
She wipes beneath her eyes. “Of course.”
“Sit down tonight and talk to each other. It might be that your marriage has gone too far to save, but I don’t believe that’s the case. Simon still loves you. Not everyone is that lucky. Think carefully about that.”
She looks over her shoulder at him for a long moment, then back at me. “All right.” She gives a brief smile. “Call me if you need anything.”
“I will. See you soon.” Pulling the case, I walk away, along the path.
I head off down the road, feeling as if I’ve gone through a mangle and emerged wrung out, limp, and creased. But I still have to go to the house.
It occurs to me then that I can’t pick up much stuff because I only have my case. I didn’t think that through. I’ve told Jude that I’ll be there, though, and I do want some more clothes. I’d like the bike, too. I wonder whether I can convince him to give me a lift up to the cottage?
Biting my bottom lip, I take the turn onto our road, walk up to the house, and go through the gate before I can chicken out. I hesitate at the front door, then ring the bell.
Ten seconds later, Jude answers it and stares at me. He has a red mark on his jaw. Shit, that’s where Archer hit him.
“What are you doing?” he asks.
“I wasn’t sure whether to use my key,” I admit. “I don’t live here anymore.”
“It’s your house, Beth. Your name’s on the contract.” He walks into the house, leaving me to lift the case up the step and close the door behind me.
I follow him in, leave the case in the hallway, and go into the living room. With some surprise, I can see that he’s cleaned it. The room is free of plates and mugs, and he’s even tidied up the books and magazines.
He stands in the center, slides his hands into the pockets of his jeans, and hunches his shoulders. He looks around. “What do you want to take?”
I swallow hard. “I’m going to get some clothes.
” I turn and go back out, run up the stairs, and walk into the main bedroom.
The bed is unmade; clearly, he doesn’t mind sleeping in here now I’m not in here.
That makes me bristle, and, newly energized, I take out the rest of my clothes and lie them on the bed before going into the spare room and finding another large bag and my backpack.
I fill the bag with the clothes, add more of the bathroom items, including all my makeup, and a few other personal bits and pieces—jewelry, my headphones, the plushie I stand my phone on at night, my donkey that has a heat pack inside, some books, a couple of ornaments, my hairdryer.
When I’m done, I carry the case down the stairs, leave it next to my other one in the hallway, and go back into the living room with the backpack.
Jude is still standing there. I walk around him, picking up the occasional item. Only personal things—books, my knitting, my Kindle, anything I can see that is mine, rather than ours.
“What about kitchen stuff?” he asks. “Furniture?”
“The cottage is fully furnished. I don’t need any of that.”
“Half of it is yours.”
I zip the backpack up. “When I know what I’m doing, we can go through everything else, if you want. Right now, I just want to take my personal things.” I straighten and face him.
We study each other for a moment. My original idea was to sit down with him and try to talk calmly about where we go from here, but I discover that I don’t want to sit.
The sun is low in the sky and normally I’d put the lights on, but I don’t move.
The house is filled with shadows, and it makes me feel sad and depressed. I just want to get out.
“I’m sorry,” Jude says.
My heart bangs on my ribs. “What for?”
“For hurting you today.”
I don’t know what I was expecting him to say.
Maybe that he was sorry for not showing me enough affection.
For not making me feel wanted or desired.
For not saying he loved me enough. It feels as if there’s a great chasm between us, and he’s trying to span it with a rope bridge. It’s not enough, and I just nod curtly.
“You look as if you’ve lost weight,” he says.
I haven’t had much appetite over the past few days, and I realize that I haven’t eaten today either.
“Not been hungry.” I clear my throat. “About the rent… the lease is up at the end of May, right?” He nods.
“How about if I pay my half until then, and after that, if you decide to stay, we get the landlord to remove me from the tenancy. Does that sound fair?”
He nods again. That’s a relief. It means I have three more months’ rent to find, but I have some savings and should be able to manage that. Technically, if he were to refuse to pay his half, the landlord could come after me, but Jude is a good guy, and I don’t think he’d do that to me.
“Do you love him?” he asks. “Archer, I mean, not the landlord.”
I blink. I wasn’t expecting that, and I can’t raise a smile at his half-joke. “I don’t want to talk about Archer,” I say, my voice husky. “He doesn’t have anything to do with this.”
“Strange,” he says. “That’s what he said.”
My eyebrows rise. “You saw him?”
“Yeah. He came in to check on the dog.”
“How did it go?” I ask cautiously.
“We didn’t resort to a fist fight again, if that’s what you mean.”
“How did you end things?”
“He told me he loves you.” He says it flatly.
I inhale and hold my breath for a moment. “Oh…” Warmth creeps up my neck into my face.
“You blush for him,” he says softly. “How romantic.” There’s a touch of a sneer in his voice.
I stiffen. “Maybe if you’d told me you loved me once in a blue moon, we wouldn’t be in this position.”
“Remind me what the necklace I bought you said?”
I flush. “I know what it said. But I didn’t feel it, Jude.”
He purses his lips. Then, to my surprise, he says, “Yeah, you’re probably right.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” The words are out before I can vet them, and I curse myself. I don’t want to sound pleading. But it’s a genuine, heartfelt question. “Did you ever love me?”
“I don’t know.”
His honest answer shocks me. “Because of Chrissie?” I whisper.
“I was never unfaithful to you,” he says.
It’s not an answer. He might not have had an affair, or seen her in the flesh; I don’t even know if he’s still in communication with her, but his indirect answer implies I was right. He still wears her ring. And while he still had feelings for her, we were never going to work.
“I should have left months ago,” I admit. “We’ve let it drag on too long.”
“Probably.”
His dull admission fills me with sadness.
If he’d fought for me, declared that he loved me, asked me not to go, apologized properly and said he still wanted me…
I might have stayed. But just like how the sunlight is fading, so is our love, dissipating and leaving only shadows of what there once was.
Maybe it wasn’t even there at all, the way I thought it was.
Did you ever love me?
I don’t know.
His answer is going to linger in my mind for a long time.
I glance around the room, surprised I have so few memories of the two of us together here. Just two and a half pointless years of routine and drudgery. Why did I stay so long?
I look back at him. “Noah’s offered me his cottage for a few weeks.”
“Yeah, Archer said. I asked him if you two were dating and he said that you wanted some time alone.”
“Yes. I need to get over us before I start seeing Archer. If I start seeing him. I know it’s possible he might choose you over me.”
That makes his lips curve up, just a little. “I don’t think that’s going to happen,” he says. Before I can ask him what he means, he continues, “He said he’s offered you a job at PAWS.”
“Yes.”
“Are you going to take it?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“You should. Senior Veterinary Nurse is a good offer and you’d be great.”
I swallow hard, surprised. “Thank you.”
He gestures toward my cases. “Do you need a lift to the cottage?”
“Um, that would be great, yes. And I’d like to take my bike.”
“We can hook it to the back of the car.”
“Okay, thank you.”
He walks past me, picks up his keys and slips on his shoes, picks up both cases, and takes them outside. I shoulder my backpack and look around one more time. Then I follow him out, closing the front door behind me.
He lifts the cases into the boot, then collects the bike from the shed and hooks it on the back. I climb into the passenger side, and he gets in the driver’s side. He starts the engine and heads the car down the road.
We’ve been in this car a lot together, but suddenly it’s awkward and hostile.
You sit close together in a car, and it’s weirdly intimate, but he feels like a stranger.
We don’t say anything as he drives the short distance to the Ark, then goes around the drive and takes the road to Noah’s house.
Before reaching it, he turns to the right and heads toward the cottage, and parks outside it.
We get out, and he helps me take out the cases, lifting them onto the deck for me. I wheel them both inside the cottage and drop my backpack in there too while he unhooks the bike.
Finally, I come back out, and we stand by the car.
It feels like the end of a movie, and there should be a crescendo of an orchestra, or a thunderstorm, or a comet falling, or some other momentous event to mark the finale.
But there’s just birdsong, and cicadas, and the sound of the sea in the distance.
“Well that’s it,” he says.
“Yeah.”
He hesitates. Then, surprising me again, he walks up to me and puts his arms around me.
Tears immediately spring into my eyes. He’s familiar and yet a stranger at the same time. I know how to fit under his arm and where he likes his neck to be kissed, but suddenly I have no right to. His skin is cool and smooth against my cheek, his cologne oddly strong and spicy.
I stand stiffly in his embrace. All I can think about is Archer, and how different it felt to be in his arms. The warmth of his body.
The brush of his beard against my face as I kissed him.
His elegant cologne. How much I liked that he was taller.
And how he kissed me as if he wanted me more than anything in the world.
I feel as if I’m betraying him by hugging Jude. How strange.
Maybe conscious of my lack of response, Jude draws back and lowers his arms. “See you around, I guess.” He turns and gets in the car, and soon he’s heading back down the drive.
I watch him go, and then I walk into the cottage and close the door.