Chapter 35 Now
Now
Sifting through my feelings about Will is a challenge.
The sharp anger is undeniably still there, but he doesn’t feel like someone who deserves to have his life cut short.
The man I saw today was capable of kindness, more pathetic than anything else, and yet he’d still conspired to make my life a living nightmare.
My mind shifts back to my exes. With Luca’s blood washed half-clean of my hands, I find myself able to acknowledge that he could be capable of kindness, too.
He was cruel, sure. But his cruelty was born of carelessness.
Just a cocky boy who thought he could rule the world.
And who did, I think, know how to love with that defective heart of his until it stopped beating.
A needle of grief pricks my own at that thought, catching me off guard.
I can’t take on any more complicated feelings without collapsing, so I swat it away.
I’m still trying to arrange my feelings into a picture that makes sense when I arrive home. James is already here, appearing in the living room doorway.
“Where have you been?” he asks. There’s an unfamiliar note of accusation in his voice.
“Just out,” I reply.
“Natalie…” A clear warning.
“Okay, just hear me out,” I say, setting my bag down in the hallway. How do I start? “Come on, let’s sit down.”
He’s clearly on edge as he follows me to the sofa, nostrils flared, mouth tight. It’s so unfamiliar, so off-putting, that I can’t ignore it.
“What’s gotten into you?” I ask.
“I thought you were going to start explaining yourself.”
“Jesus, James. I’m back an hour later than usual. It’s not like I’ve disappeared for days on end.”
“Well, were you in the office today? We both know I was out with clients, but where were you?”
Admitting I wasn’t there feels like losing the argument we’re suddenly having.
James keeps going. “You might not care about your career enough to take it seriously”—ouch—“but you can’t just pull vanishing acts.
Do I need to embarrass you by reminding you that I own the business, and people tell me what’s going on?
Particularly if they’re concerned that my PA, who is also my wife, has gone AWOL.
They worry. You’re making them worry about you.
Besides, you wouldn’t have driven to the office, and you clearly took the car. So where were you?”
“Okay, babe, can we please calm down a little, and I’ll explain.” I can almost hear his teeth grinding. “I was with Will.”
His eyes darken. “You were what?”
“Okay, not with Will. I was following him.”
Confusion flares up on his forehead and camps there. The frustration is still present, but it seems lighter than it was a moment before. “What do you mean?”
“I mean I was following him.” It’s silly of me to be this glib, but I’m not sure how else to deliver the news. “Look, I just…I just wanted to see if I could get a better sense of why he’s doing this to us.”
“So you stalked him? Nat, I surely don’t have to tell you how irresponsible that is.”
“He didn’t see me.”
The innocent act doesn’t seem to be working, because James is now on his feet, pacing the living room. “Jesus Christ, Nat. I thought we were done with the crazy. You’re officially not a violent psychopath. Great! Fan-fucking-tastic news. But now you’re stalking people?”
I’m more than a little put out. “Person.”
He stops in his tracks. “What?”
“Person. I’m only stalking the one person. And it was only a onetime thing.”
He looks at me, incredulous. “My god, Natalie. What is wrong with you?”
This one cuts deep. He watches me recoil as if he’s physically struck me. It almost hurts just as much. I don’t know what to say to him, so instead I bring my knees up to my chest and hug them. He’s soon beside me, arm around my shoulders.
“Sorry.”
“No, I’m—”
“No, I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re right. I’m not normal.” I wish I was, but I don’t think I know how to be.
James plants a kiss on my head, holds me tighter. We search for what to say next. He gets there first.
“So what did you see, exactly?” he asks.
I pull away so that I can look at him properly. “What do you mean?”
“Well, you spent the day following my brother. What did you see?”
I pick at a bit of loose skin on my thumb. I like that it hurts. “Not much. Gym, coffee shop, chemist. But, James, before he went to the pub—”
“Wait—he’s still drinking?”
“Yeah, I took a photo. In case you need to fob him off a while longer about starting to work again.”
He half smiles, covering his mouth with a hand. “Don’t take me smiling as encouragement.” I do anyway, and he knows it. “This is useful. He’s broken our terms. I’ll figure out a way to deal with it without incriminating you, but that’s it. He’s not coming back.”
“There’s more. He went to the pharmacy section of the chemist. Does he take medication for anything?”
James stops, thinks. “Well, he struggles with anxiety sometimes, I guess. He’s got a prescription. Valium, I think.”
“Oh.”
I try to keep my face passive, try not to show how I’m storing this piece of information away.
“And is that it?”
“No. I think Vanessa’s kicked him out. He’s not staying in the family house anymore.”
“Probably serves him right.”
“Probably.” I take James’s free hand, squeeze it. “I have to admit, he didn’t look like such a threat to me, just watching him on his own. He’s a sad and desperate man. Is there nothing the two of you can do to fix your relationship? This can’t just be about the money.”
“After everything with Claire…do you reckon you can fix that?”
“Claire’s not here. It’s not the same. Isn’t there anyth—”
James lets go of my hand and looks away. “No. It’s too late.”
In the distance of his gaze is a solid resoluteness that tells me, family or no, once James is done, he’s done for good. It scares me a little. How close am I to crossing a line I can’t come back from?
“What do we do?” I ask.
“I’ve checked—I’ll have enough from selling some cuff links and a few other things my dad gave me to make the fifteen thousand. It means…It means clearing out the savings we’ve been trying to rebuild, but I should be able to settle with Will within the week.”
Another setback.
“What if he asks for more?”
“I don’t know.”
We become two playhouse dolls, silent and still on the sofa. James stirs first.
“It would give me peace of mind if we could start sharing our location with each other,” he says.
“It’s easy enough to do on Maps. And before you start”—he’s right; I was about to start—“I know I say couples who do that are insecure, but Will’s making these threats and…
and…” And there’s a lot he’s not saying. “Please?”
Protests wither in my mouth before they have a chance to sprout. I know what he’s thinking. That I’m reckless and need minding. That I’m not the tough fighter we thought I was and need protection. He’s not entirely wrong.
“Okay,” I acquiesce. “But how do we stop him from holding this over our heads for the rest of our lives?”
He pinches the bridge of his nose. I realize, with horror, that tears are building. “Nat, I don’t know. Short of him drinking himself into an early grave, I don’t see how this ever ends.”