Chapter 5
A few silly mistakes
Beating the shit out of that battered old table is highly therapeutic. Connor and I hammer it at the beginning but end up using our bare hands to rip it to pieces, scattering splinters everywhere and laughing the entire time. That is, until Rhys walks in.
“What the hell did you do to my table?” he yells, looking from me to Connor. “And who the fuck are you?”
Oh, how the tables have turned.
“Rhys, I didn’t realise you’d be home. I was just grabbing some stuff while you were out.” I don’t look at him as I speak. I can’t. An ache forms in my chest at the prospect of having a confrontation. “I’ll come back another time. Come on, Connor.”
I move to walk out of the kitchen, but Rhys steps into my path.
“I went into work, but they sent me home because I was too distracted. You can’t be trusted to spot someone on the weights if you’re distracted.”
“Oh.” I still don’t look at him but make another attempt to side-step him.
“I’m distracted because of this mess between us!” He moves to block me again and holds me by the shoulders. I can feel Connor move to stand behind me, but he doesn’t say anything, and Rhys doesn’t acknowledge him. His eyes are focused solely on me. “When are you coming home so we can move on?”
“I can’t forgive you for what you did, Rhys.” He moves his head to try to make eye contact, so I end up closing mine tight. Childish? Yes, but effective.
“Will you stop exaggerating, Mat?” he huffs and grips onto my shoulders a bit tighter. “Stop being so fucking dramatic and come back home!”
“You’re hurting me, let go.”
My words don’t come out as forcefully as I intended. The ball of anxiety in my chest begins to take over and my head goes fuzzy, like it’s filled with cotton wool.
“She said ‘let go’,” I hear Connor say from behind me. He’s calm and quiet, but even I can hear the threat in his voice through the buzzing in my head.
Rhys ignores him. “Matilda, you’re being so stupid! Are you honestly going to throw everything away over this?”
I struggle to catch my breath. The room spins. Rhys’s fingers bite into my skin, but I barely feel it.
You’re ruining your one chance at a marriage. No one else would want you.
“Tilly, are you okay?”
I barely hear Connor when he speaks to me.
“Matilda, if you come back now, we’ll pretend none of this ever happened, I’ll even forgive you for wrecking the table…”
You don’t deserve him. You don’t deserve anyone.
My chest tightens. My lungs fail. Everything is black.
“Matilda?”
“Tilly?”
Stupid bitch.
I wake up on the couch with a cool, wet flannel on my forehead.
Connor stands near my head with his arms folded, biceps on full show beneath his T-shirt.
He’s glaring at Rhys, who stands near my feet, standing in the exact same pose, glaring at Connor.
Neither realises I’m awake, which gives me a second to gather my thoughts.
I remember Rhys asking me to come home, the pain in my chest and the darkness that followed as I fell to the tiled kitchen floor.
“How did I end up on the couch?” I ask, dreading the answer I know is coming.
“I carried you,” Connor says, his eyes softening when he realises I’m awake and turns to look at me. “Are you okay?”
“I told him not to,” Rhys adds before I have chance to answer. “I know you don’t like being picked up because of your size, but your guard dog wouldn’t listen to me.”
Connor turns his attention back to Rhys. Rhys kneels next to me and holds my hand. I shift uncomfortably on the leather couch cushions.
“Mat, I miss you. We both have some stuff to work on. I’m willing to try if you are. We can’t just throw away seven years together because of a few silly mistakes.”
And there’s that anxiety ball again. I pull my hand away from Rhys’s and promise to think about it, for no other reason than wanting to get out of this place as soon as possible. Rhys’s eyes cloud over, and for a second, I don’t recognise the man in front of me as my husband.
“Do you know what, Mat? Don’t bother!” Rhys stands up and takes a step back. His hands are balled up into fists and there’s a vein throbbing in his neck.
I sit up instinctively as his face turns red with anger. Connor takes a step towards me.
“Leave if you want to leave!” Rhys spits. “It won’t be long before you’re back here begging me to take you back because you’ve realised that no one else will have you. Who’s going to want a broken, lazy, fat bitch like you?”
Connor starts to move, but I hold him by the back of his shirt. Rhys is in too much of a rage to notice and just keeps shouting, spittle flying from his mouth with every other word.
“I give it a week before you’re banging on the door wanting to move back in with the only person who will ever be capable of loving you.”
He storms out of the house and slams the front door behind him so hard the wedding photo we hung in the hall falls off its nail and smashes as it hits the floor. How symbolic.
Connor and I remain in silence for what feels like minutes after but is probably only seconds. Without turning to me, Connor asks, “Is there anything else of his that we can smash?”
I huff a laugh and release his shirt. I’d forgotten I was holding it until that small laugh centred me.
“Plenty, but I just want to grab the rest of my stuff and go before he comes back.” I stand up and realise how tired I am. It’s only 11:00 a.m., but a lot has happened in a few short hours.
“You’re not planning on staying, then?”
“What? No, of course not!” I shake my head, hoping it will clear the residual fuzziness. It doesn’t.
“Good. He’s a dick,” Connor says.
I laugh to myself at his choice of words.
“What’s so funny?” Connor asks, a look of wary amusement on his face.
“Just you calling Rhys a dick. That’s what I used to call you. You’ve always been ‘Dick with a capital D’.”
“Oh, really?” The small smile is still there, but I’m sure that’s a glimmer of hurt in his eyes.
“But not anymore!” I hastily add. “Since this truce started, it’s like you’ve been a different person. I really appreciate you being my friend. I don’t know what I’d do without you now. You’re really good at taking care of people, you know?”
He grins. “I’ve had years of practise with Ivy. Talk about high maintenance.”
“I bet your girlfriends have all loved the protective alpha-male stuff, too.” I don’t know why I say it; it just slips out. How mortifying.
“I wouldn’t know,” he replies shyly. “I’ve never really been interested in girlfriends.”
He’s a one-night stand kind of guy. Noted.
Breaking the tension, Connor slings an arm over my shoulders and guides me back towards the kitchen.
“Come on, friend. Let’s get you packed up so we can leave.”
I finish putting on my fluffy pyjamas and run a brush through my damp hair.
Sitting on Ivy’s bed, I think about the long day that’s finally coming to an end.
After Rhys stormed out of the house, Connor and I finished packing up my things and picked up some lunch from the baked potato van on the way home.
Ivy video called briefly to say she would be staying in Edinburgh for a few more weeks, so I should move some of her things out of the wardrobe to make room for mine.
I unpacked my pathetic four boxes of belongings (one of which was filled with books) and waited in my room for Connor to go to work.
It was childish to hide in my room, but I couldn’t face anymore talking, especially about Rhys or, even worse, about me.
I couldn’t be more grateful for Connor’s support and friendship over the last couple of days, but my social battery was running on fumes.
So I hid until I heard him leave, then had a long, hot shower without worrying that he would catch me naked or in a towel.
I sit on the bed, brushing my hair, tears running down my cheeks.
When did I start crying? For the first time since my life fell to pieces, I let the tears fall freely.
I ugly-cry so hard I have to gasp for breath and my eyes sting, but still I keep crying.
I cry because a huge part of my life has come to an end.
I cry because I feel stupid for being used and lied to.
I cry because I feel ashamed of being such an awful wife that my husband would cheat on me repeatedly.
I don’t, however, cry because I miss Rhys.
It’s only 6:00 p.m., but I’m exhausted physically and emotionally. Having had both breakfast and lunch today (and a handful of crisps this afternoon), I decide to skip dinner and just make a cup of tea instead. I take it to bed with me and settle down with my book before falling into a deep sleep.