For full explanation, please see my author's notes at the start of Locked In!
This one is actually a twitter challenge. The gist was "write your own version of Mary's Pamuk confession to Matthew and see how they differ", so we (myself and the wonderful Orangeshipper) did. And this was my finished product.
Enjoy!
Mary confesses - The missing scene.
"Even so, please tell me," she nodded once and carried on walking, still being a bit too close to some of the search party. She took a deep breath. What was the point in trying to hide it now? He'd find out eventually anyway, and surely it was better from her than a newspaper? No, it didn't matter. She was going. She could forget him. He would forget her.
"He knows something about me. Something that will ruin the family if it ever gets out," they stopped and he turned to look at her, his mind racing with endless scenarios.
"Mary-" she shook her head. No interruptions. She had to tell him everything.
"No. If I marry him, he won't publish the story, and Papa, and you, and everyone will be left alone." She clasped her hands together, not sure what else she could do. "If...if I end it, he won't hesitate-"
"He's blackmailing you?" Matthew could not stay silent, disbelief etched across his features. Blackmail? Although, when he thought about it, and what he knew about Carlisle, it wasn't completely beyond the realm of possibility. "Mary, what does he know about you?" He felt sick. What could be so bad that it involved blackmail and ruin? She closed her eyes, willing herself to not fall apart. The air was still around them, everything else had faded in the background. She took another deep breath and forced herself to meet his piercing gaze.
"He knows...that a man...that Kemal Pamuk died in my bed." Everything stopped. Even their own hearts. It was finally out. A million half-formed, confused thoughts raced through his mind as he tried to process... Pamuk…that sounded…ah yes. That dinner. But died in her bed? In her bed? But that would mean that... Oh. Suddenly it all clicked into place, even things that hadn't seemed relevant now connected with this...this...secret.
She watched as the colour drained from his face and recognition flickered in his eyes. He remembered. She blinked, trying to rid herself of the tears that filled her eyes. She knew he would be disgusted. Had she not always told herself that he would be? That he would hate her? She had prepared herself, or so she thought. But it had to be done. And she had yet again lost the friendship that was so so dear to her, that had been tentatively, cautiously rebuilt since the spring. But it had to be done.
He turned away from her, certain that he was going to be sick. There was a strange roaring in his ears and he felt a pain rip through him, something that had been forced down and ignored so long ago…the cruel stab of rejection. She had wanted the Turk. Had she ever wanted him? Was this why she didn't… He realised he had never had a claim on her, he never would…she would never be his. He shook his head once, desperately trying to rid himself of thoughts that dragged up the past. He could just walk away. He could. He wouldn't. He needed…to know…there was so much that he wanted to know, and yet…
The silence was unbearable, and it felt like hours since someone had spoken. She almost wished he would just leave, at least that would be a reaction.
"Say something… Even if it's only goodbye."
He heard the words, heard the pleading tone, felt himself turning back to face her, saw the red-rimmed eyes…and then he knew.
Thanks for reading! Any feedback is always appreciated!