Chapter 14
Chapter
Fourteen
Joel
T he deep, burning fury within me is nothing like I've encountered for some time. My temples pulse, my knuckles ache with the grip I've had on the steering wheel and I can’t seem to get my head around the words that had been exchanged between Edith and Leon. My heart had sunk when I’d heard her say them, painting the picture so clearly of what Leon had done. Still, I want to hear her say it: I want to know why she never came to me.
Why didn’t she come to me?
I’d surprised myself with how calm I’d been considering I’d wanted to smack the fucker into next week the longer he stood there looking at Edith as if she were prey.
I’d been seconds away from kissing her, forgetting our surroundings and who we were, and I’d been lost in a world of who I wanted us to be—how I picture us to be. I’d wanted to devour her mouth, touch every inch of her skin and hear my name on her beautiful, pink gloss lips. Then everything changed.
Her face had been laced with pain and anguish; I’d wanted to lash out at those who have hurt her and hold her in my arms all at once. But I couldn't.
As we head in through my front door, she wastes no time in kicking off her shoes before storming into the kitchen and throwing her clutch bag on the island.
As she pours herself a drink, I give her a moment and focus my attention on Milo, who is now padding around my feet. I stroke him down and kiss the top of his head before he ambles back to his bed.
Slipping off my shoes, I remove my jacket and fucking bowtie, unfastening the first three buttons on my shirt and untucking it, needing to feel more comfortable. The silence in the air and the tension that you can cut with a knife is starting to make me feel uneasy .
Her back is to me, her head down. She’s no longer crying, but I know the way she is pouring alcohol into her system is her way of preventing the anger inside her.
I step up beside her and lean my back against the island.
She doesn't look at me, and the longer her eyes aren’t on mine the harder it is to breathe.
“Ask me then," she murmurs.
“Ask you what?”
“Whatever it is that you want to know.”
I remain silent for a moment. I don’t want to know, I need to know, but I go with the first and most important question on my mind, already knowing the answer.
“All I want to know is if you’re okay.”
She snorts out a little laugh at the same time fresh tears erupt. Covering her mouth with her hand, she attempts to compose herself as she whispers an apology she doesn’t need to voice. She’s hurting. And it fucking kills me.
“I'm not okay, Joel. Everything hurts. I can’t stand it anymore.”
“Edie...” I murmur, shifting her hair from around her face. “Talk to me. Tell me what really happened between the two of you?”
Finally looking at me, her lip quivers. “Have you ever found yourself in a situation where you know you’re being manipulated and humiliated but you don’t do anything about it because you’re scared of what you’ll lose if you confront the person responsible?”
“Yes,” I admit.
“Total head fuck, isn’t it?”
Without another word, she takes the bottle of whiskey and two glasses and heads into the living room. With my body full of trepidation, I follow her.
She sits on the sofa, her legs curled up while she holds a full glass, pouring one for me, which I pick up, downing it in one go, and enjoying the burn of the liquid that warms my chest. Pouring another, I take a seat, shifting my body to face her.
“He was cheating on me, three out of the four years we were together. He had another woman. Or I was the other woman. I don’t know anymore.”
That ball of anger deep in my core burns like an inferno.
That fucking bastard.
I’d been sure he was wrong for her, and now I learn she’d had to suffer from his actions.
“It was the day after Sophia died that I caught him. I came home after being at dad’s, wanting someone to hold me because I felt so empty, but all I got was more heartache because I found him with her. For a moment, I just stood there, watching in disbelief, questioning myself if what I was seeing was right until it hit me like a freight train.” She pauses. “We had a massive argument, and he said some horrible things to me—twisted it to make me feel like I was somehow in the wrong before telling me our whole relationship had been based on infidelity. So, I threw him out and lied to everyone about what happened.”
“Jesus, Edie. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Mutual agreement was easier to voice, especially when it came down to the timing.” She swallows. “Everyone was hurting. You were hurting. It just seemed easier to bend the truth.”
I had been hurting. I’d felt like I’d had my stomach and heart ripped out, but she still could have come to me. I’m her best friend.
I think back to the time Daisy had had concerns for Edith. The day I’d gone around to check on her, I’d witnessed it with my own eyes: a small, fragile woman laid out on the sofa—that woman hadn’t been my Edie. She’d been withdrawn, pale and more vulnerable than I’d ever seen. She’d looked right through me as if I wasn’t there and never uttered a word when I spoke.
I’d picked her up, cradled her in my arms and stroked her hair. I don’t know how long I’d sat with her, but when I’d told her to find me when she was ready because I needed my Edie back, she’d fisted my shirt, sunk her face into my neck and sobbed. All the while I was silently crying into her hair.
Now everything makes sense.
“That day on the sofa. It was because of him, wasn’t it?”
“I was at the lowest point in my life, losing two people I loved at the same time. I was numb. Heartbroken and completely lost. When you held me, I just broke.”
Not being able to stop myself, I circle my finger around her anklebone, wanting so desperately to touch her. “You scared me that day.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispers, taking a mouthful of her drink.“I feel like such a fool now.”
“If anyone is a fool, Edie, it’s that piece of shit for doing what he did.”
“But I never suspected it, Joel. It was three years. How did I not know he wasn't who I believed he was? How could I be so fucking blind?”
“This is not your fault.”
“Of course it is. It was in my bed. Under my roof. I clearly didn’t give him what he wanted, otherwise, why go out and find it from someone else? I failed as a lover and as a girlfriend. And it fucking hurts.” Her voice cracks.
I cup her cheek, hating that she’s blaming herself for something that has been out of her control and loathing the fact that his actions have made her doubt everything that she is.
"You, Edith Kennedy, are the kindest person I know. You put yourself before others. You never judge. You are strong, independent, funny and a beautiful woman. If Leon can’t see that then it’s his loss.”
“But there was obviously something missing. I need to find out what that was because if I don’t, it’s bound to happen again,” she whispers, a tear slipping down her cheek.
I shake my head, disagreeing with her. “What's the one thing I've always said to you?”
“That has nothing to do with this.” She looks away from me for a second and I lift her chin, wanting her eyes on me again.
“It has everything to do with this. Now, tell me. What is it?”
“To never change," she whispers.
“Exactly. Being you is all that matters. It’s the only thing that's important.”
“Well, being me has left me feeling used and lonely. ”
“Then we can be lonely together. Just think of all the fun we can have.” I smile, hoping it will light her spirits a little. “I got you, Edie. You know I'll always be here for you. You just have to talk to me."
“I never meant to keep any of this from you. I just didn't think it was fair. So, I remained silent.”
Meanwhile, she’d been breaking inside and couldn't come to me. Why is it that people can treat you like shit yet leave you feeling like you’re the one who’s in the wrong?
I can't even be mad with her for not speaking out because as I sit here, my demons eat away at me. Maybe now it's time to get everything off my chest—have a clean slate—but as much as it sounds so easy, a part of me is terrified to speak the words. I feel less of a man having put up with the shit I did. If anyone should feel weak right now, it's not Edith, it's me.
“It’s surprising how people can hide who they truly are yet somehow still play the victim—make you feel like shit for something they constantly do and expect you to still respect them after. The hardest part is watching someone change and having no power to keep them the way you thought they were when you met them.”
They say marriage is challenging at times, but within a year of mine, I’d felt like I was running a marathon and could never keep up the pace.
“That sounds like you’re talking from experience?” she murmurs.
For a long time, I’ve wanted to talk to her, and I feel like tonight is our time to unveil all our secrets. I finish the rest of my drink and place the glass on the table in front of me.
“It seems we’ve both been keeping things from each other when it comes to our relationships,” I whisper.
“How do you mean?” Placing her glass next to mine, she shifts herself closer, taking my hand in hers as if knowing I’m going to need her comfort.
I think back to what she’d said to Leon and how far from the truth she had been.
“What you said to Leon about me being a good man, isn’t true.”
“Why would you say that?”
“Because I couldn’t keep my marriage from falling apart.” I hesitate for a moment, trying to find the words but not knowing where to even begin. "Sophia was often violent. She never physically hurt me, but at the same time, the anger behind her often had me waiting for the first hit."
Just saying the words feel like a weight has been lifted. I can finally breathe, and that’s before Edith even knows the full story. It makes me realise just how loaded I’ve been with everything that has happened over the years and how I should have spoken out sooner.
"At first, everything was how I imagined it to be. I was happy, and for a long time, I thought we were happy together. Only, I was wrong. Everything seemed to be happening so fast, yet I couldn't pull the breaks. Our relationship had been great, but my marriage was not what I expected nor what I wanted. Each time we fought, the thread to the rope weakened until there was nothing left. We talked less, argued more and we slowly started to become more distant than ever. I realised then that what we had wasn't enough for either of us. Sophia needed a love I couldn't provide and in return I wanted a love she never wanted to give.” I drag my hand through my hair and let out a heavy breath. Knowing that what is about to come next is the hardest part of all. “We hid who we had become to everyone. We acted in front of others like we were the happiest couple going, yet inside, I’d never felt so lonely because the woman I’d married was no longer there. I hated coming home because I never knew which Sophia I was going to get, and each night I got into bed, I felt more alone than ever. The day that she died, things had escalated quickly. She’d been screaming at me that I never listened to her—never gave her what she wanted—when deep down, it was me who’d been breaking. Next thing I knew, her coffee cup was narrowly missing my head for it to smash to pieces after hitting the wall."
"Oh, my god, Joel."
“I needed to calm down. I drove into Skipton, drowning myself in alcohol whilst trying to work out my next move.” The reoccurring shame is back full force and tears sting the back of my eyes.
“I was going to leave her, Edie,” I admit. “I couldn’t stand by and be the husband she wanted me to be when she’d driven a wedge in our marriage.”
“How do you mean?”
“I want a family.”
“And she didn’t,” she whispers, sadness in her eyes because she’s always known how much I’ve wanted children.
“She never loved me in the way that I thought she did. I wasn’t her priority anymore; I don’t think I ever was.”
“I knew something wasn’t right,” she murmurs. “There was always this look in your eyes. Why didn’t you say anything? ”
“I didn’t know how. And also, I didn't want to be the man who broke her heart.”
“So, you let yours be crushed instead.”
“It crushed even more the day she died.” I swallow, knowing I need to get the final part of that day off my chest, but the emotion inside causes my voice to crack.
“I told her to get out and not come back.”
"Oh, Joel.”
“She left thinking I didn't care at all.”
Holding the nape of my neck, Edie presses her forehead against mine as I let the tears fall. I've cried many times over my mistakes, and I’m not ashamed to admit them, but tonight it's like I can finally breathe.
“She knew,” she whispers, wiping my cheeks. “She knew.”
"I should have stayed at home that day."
“It wouldn’t have changed anything if you had.” She grips my jaw. “This is not your fault. You hear me?”
I nod, but that doesn’t change the fact that her last human interaction was me yelling at her. It doesn’t stop all the guilt that is eating away at me. I was the one who made her leave.
Me.
Not one person will be able to change that—not even Edith .
I say the words that I don’t believe anyway.
“I hear you,” I whisper, running my hand up her body to the soft curve of her neck.
We shed tears in silence as our pain becomes one and I’m overwhelmed by the closeness of her. With each beat of her warm breath against my skin, she eases the persistent remorse that laces my veins, and the cocktail of feelings I have for her take over.
Her eyes dart between mine, the heat of her body a signal of recognition as this tender moment between us shifts into that sweet seduction that has been bubbling between us.
The rapid beat of my heart strums against the palm of her hand that rests against me, my dick, straining against my trousers with need.
This.
Her.
I want it all.
And I’m praying she will have me.
“You are so beautiful, Edie,” I murmur, as her unsteady breaths battle against my own. “So, fucking beautiful.”