Hello everyone
Now, first I want to say thank you to the readers of Love Knows No Bounds for voting for this outtake. I'm glad that you wanted to see into Charlie's head because honestly, he was talking to me anyway.
It's just unfortunate that it's through this situation that you'll hear from him.
The second thing I want to say is that whilst you read this, please take into account for the fact that Charlie is about 35-36 and so whilst he's certainly older and he's a father, this is how he spoke to me and came to me.
In saying that, you'll all read between the lines and see that I'm incredibly fucking nervous. This is the first time that I've done Charlie's POV – from any story – and so I'm more than a little worried about how it'll be accepted.
And lastly… please review!
See you down the bottom!
"Alright, boys," I say loudly, smirking over at my two deputies through the clear window screen of my office that looks out onto the rest of the small building. I stand up and prepare to leave, grabbing anything I might need. "That's me for the day."
They lean forward, Mark smirking as he says, "What's going on here, Chief? You're supposed to be here as long as us."
"Yeah, your shift isn't over yet," Steve pipes up and I glare at the both of them.
"I'm the chief here, not either of you goons," I say, huffing a laugh as I walk past them. "Besides, Renée's staying home today and I want to surprise her for lunch."
"I bet that's not all you're after," Mark guffaws and I glare at him, tapping my gun in warning.
"Now, now, no need to get jealous," I laugh, watching their faces as they growl under their breaths. I chuckle, soaking it up as I open the door. Nodding to them, the last thing I say is, "I'll see you two goofs tomorrow."
"Sure, sure, Chief," they yell after me and I shake my head as I walk down the stairs and over to my car.
As soon as I'm sitting in the driver seat, however, I sigh and sit there, the smile falling from my face. Truth is, I'm not leaving because I want to surprise my wife. No, I'm leaving early because I have a feeling that something is going on.
To be blunt, I have a fairly good idea that my wife of eighteen years is cheating on me. And… well… if it's true – as I strongly suspect it is – I'd rather know now rather than later.
But really; Renée knows my history – or more importantly, the history of my parents – and I have to wonder why she'd do this when she knows I know the signs of an unfaithful partner. Since both of my parents were cheaters, having cheated on each other during their nearly completely loveless marriage, I know the signs from both perspectives.
And let me tell you, men's signals and women's signals are completely different. Yes, there are very similar aspects but mostly, they were on opposite sides of the spectrum. Whilst men completely lose interest and don't bother hiding it, women pretend. Women are suddenly much clingier, handsy and needy when it comes to their husbands; they show their husbands just how much they want them, how much they love them.
And it's all a game to ensure that they are not caught.
Now, of course that doesn't apply to all women… but it most certainly applied to my mother and Renée had thought the world of her. It's only logical to thing that she'd follow in her footsteps – in all ways.
Granted, I've known that something is not quite right for a long time, possibly even years. Since Bella was five, there was just something about the relationship I had with my wife. It was filled with tension, pressure so thick you could cut it with a knife and it had been that way – despite our best efforts at hiding that from Bella – for years.
So for Renée to suddenly be so much more… involved, I suppose… any nitwit that knew a thing or two would be suspicious.
And suspicious I was.
Until, when Renée was in the shower, I checked her phone. I couldn't help it, it was an impulse. I saw her phone, acknowledged that we were alone and couldn't resist the temptation to just… check.
I did, and this just added to my suspicions. There were texts and emails, all sweet and relatively innocent but I knew better. I knew then and still know now that there's more to my wife. She has a vicious side.
A side that sometimes, in an unobvious way, comes out when she's interacting with Bella. Of course, Bella doesn't notice – or perhaps she does, but passes it off as something else because my daughter is perceptive; something she got from me. Either way, whether she notices or not, I do and it pisses me off to no end.
My wife is not affectionate with our daughter. Hell, I know I'm not as much as I could be, but I at least try. I may not be the best father, but at least I car. At least I check on her, give her attention and try to include her. I tell her I love her, ask about school and how she's going, feeling, whether she's happy.
I care.
I saw Bella that night that the Cullens arrived in town. I saw how… how depressed she was, how low she was and it scared me, worried me to no end. Renée saw it too, but rather than ask, she simply chose to ignore it when she went into the kitchen. Oh yes, I listened. I was surprised she even went in to check on her or speak to her.
I shake my head, my eyes flashing to the building as I start the car. It chugs, but eventually works and I sigh, preparing myself for the worst as I drive slowly to the house. Soon, my thoughts drift to my daughter as I think of how she'll deal with this, how she'll move forward if her mother really is cheating on her.
Whilst I haven't met Edward yet, I've heard the whispers that are going around the town. I know my daughter is seeing something, and rather than feel angry that she hasn't told me – or Renée – anything yet, I'm calm. I know that Bella will tell us something sooner or later, and I know that she'll bring him over to meet us.
I also know that if she's going out with this boy, then he's good one, he's a keeper. My daughter is by no means stupid and if she's finally started dating then he's worth it.
My only hope is that he'll support her when she finds out. How she will, I have no idea, but she's a good, perceptive girl – something she got from me – and she'll figure it out… or find out… one way or another. And when she does, it'll break her heart and her world. She'll see the signs, just as I have, but she won't know what they mean. She won't know what they stand for, and she won't know how to cope with it when she does find out.
If there's anything to find out.
Give it a break, Swan, I think gruffly to myself as I turn down our street. It's the only thing that makes sense. As much as you don't want to accept it, Renée's most likely fucking the gardener in your bed.
With a harsh sigh, I park the car a few houses down the street. If I'm going to catch my wife, I'll have to be somewhat stealthy. And as much as it'll drag a knife through my heart to catch her in the act, I did it with both of my parents, so I'll just have to do it now, too, and get it over with.
But this is harder than the experience of finding both my parents combined.
I close and lock the police car door, throwing a smile on my face. I know for a fact that the dear ole' Mrs Matcham from across the road is watching, so I'll have to pretend that I'm not trying to catch my wife in the act of cheating.
When I near the house, I slow a little without making it obvious. I scan the area briefly, my eyes narrowing when I find the bastard gardener's car there and I try to remember his name; Phil or something like that.
I breathe in a few deep breaths, my eyes glancing up at our bedroom window. I see movement and I half-heartedly shrug it off.
Perhaps she's cleaning, I think before cursing because… because my wife doesn't clean.
With a knife preparing to slice my heart, I move forward and to the front door. I open it as quietly as I can, all the while trying to ignore the painful ache in my heart.
Christ, this is harder than I thought it'd be, I think to myself again as I quietly and slowly close the door.
"Oh!" I hear Renée scream, and I clench my eyes closed. I know that scream, I know it so damn well and it kills me.
Because that's the first thing that halfway confirms it. My wife is cheating on me.
Now, I just have to investigate, get more evidence.
I curse as I put down my keys on the table near the stairs. I move so slowly, quietly as I listen out for anything and it breaks me over and over again as I hear distant sounds of fucking. My hands clench into fists as I start to walk forward.
When I'm done walking up the stairs, I take a deep breath. Standing there for a few moments, I wait it out. For me to get any closer there needs to be noise… and it needs to be loud.
Yes, I'm treating this like a house raid. But it's the only way I'll be able to do this; coming to terms with the evidence before me will come later, for now… I have to just get through this shit.
When I hear the sounds of the headboard of our motherfucking bed hitting the wall repeatedly and Renée's moans… Phil's grunts, too… I suck my teeth, gritting them and clench my jaw angrily as I slowly begin to move forward.
In all honesty, I don't have to do this. Between the noises, the car outside, the texts and emails… I can honestly say that my wife is cheating on me.
But suddenly, it isn't about the proof. Suddenly, this is all about the visuals. I need the proof of seeing this for myself. I need to see it to come to terms with it.
I just… I just fucking need it.
And so, as I reach the door, my hand closes around the doorknob. With a heavy heart and angry everything else, I slowly twist it and push open the door.
With where our bed is situated, neither of them with see me. I know from Renée's sounds that she's riding that fucker, so I'll be able to see it for myself and leave both of them none the wiser.
I grit my teeth, my eyes closing, clenching and squeezing for a second as the sounds get louder. I swallow and with the last moderated push of the door, my hand still on the knob, the door is open and my eyes are on the bed.
Fuck.
There are no words, no fucking words to describe the anger, the pain and the… just… fuck, the everything that I feel when my eyes land on the image of my wife, naked, on top and moving on another man. All I can say is thank god I can't see the fucker's face, because if I could, I'd snap.
I stand there. I stand there for perhaps longer than I should as I watch Renée and the bastard on our bed, in our home.
I'm still. I can't move, or speak. I can hardly even breathe, but then I do.
And then, I close the door and walk away as I hear my wife scream that dickhead's name.
I run out of the house, grab my keys before running to the car. I get in, slam the door and drive like a madman for the police department. I just… for the life of me, I can't stay in that house. I can't be around that, but the images, the sounds… they're all still there in my head.
Haunting me.
And I can't stand it, but I have to pretend that nothing's wrong. I have to pretend that I didn't just watch my wife fucking another man; that my whole world isn't crashing down.
Because it is, but I can't let that show. For now, I have to pretend that everything is ok, that my heart isn't breaking. And to do so, I think of my daughter. I think of Bells as I arrive and park at the police station and walk in through those doors.
As soon as Mark and Steve see me, they raise their eyebrows.
"What's this, Chief?" They say, grinning at each other like idiots as they swing in their chairs. Their eyes follow me as I walk swiftly toward my office, paying them no mind.
Soon enough, I'm in my office, the door closed and I sigh as I sit in my chair.
I look at the photo that before had made me smile. An old photo of Renée, Bella and I from when Bella was four. All of us are smiling, happy and I clench my eyes closed as tears well in my eyes and my throat closes up.
Who am I kidding.
I can't fucking pretend; I can't just ignore what I've seen, what I've heard.
And so as I breathe heavily against the sobs, my hand lifting up as I swallow hard, my hand slamming the photo down so I no longer see it, I, for the first goddamn time in my life, cry.
And when those tears are gone, I know I'm done. Yes, I feel betrayed, my heart is breaking and there's a knife stuck into it, but I can't think of that now. Anger clouds my mind as I think of Renée and what she's down to us, what she's going to do to our daughter.
And I'm resolved. When shit hits the fan, I will protect my daughter.
The only thing I have to do now is warn that boyfriend of hers… whenever I meet him, that is.
Another thing: Renée cannot know that I know.
And as I sit there, getting on with my work, I plan. I plan exactly what I have to do in order for this to work.
Before I leave for work, I take out the photo of the three of us and fill it with a new one.
My daughter. She's the only thing that matters now, the only thing that I will strive to protect and love. Because I've been through this, I know what she'll feel, how she'll react.
It's just… history repeating itself.
And then I leave work, and smile as I drive home, knowing I'll be able to do this.
Yes, I found my wife cheating on me today and yes that hurts like a bitch. But right now, I have to be strong for Bells and I have to prepare that boy of hers for what's to come, too.
"Dad!" I hear as I walk through and I smile as my eyes land on my daughter.
To think only yesterday she was in my arms… and now… now she'll soon be off in the world.
Don't be such a damned sap, Charlie Swan, I think to myself as I grab a beer out of the fridge and sit down in the lounge room in front of the television.
I turn on the T.V. and settle into the chair, knowing that whatever comes, whatever happens in the future… it'll be ok.
Because I'm a father, first and foremost, and I love my daughter with everything that I have.
Alright, how was that? What do we think of it, people?
I'm a little worried about the end. He just kept dragging it out and eventually he just stopped with the above statement. Hopefully, it's not all that bad.
Now… as I said up above, please review and let me know what you think, lovies.
See you over at Love Knows No Bounds,
bexie25
