Three little words

Chapter 11

Charles heard the words, saw her lips move, but couldn't compute that she'd truly said them. He felt a fool when she had to ask again, and sad that when she did he noticed the anxiety in her voice.

"Yeah, of course." He said, putting his drink down, reaching down and placing his hand in the hollow of her back. The moment he connected with her body heat, he felt her still, and his heart beat louder than it had for years. She turned around and looked at him, straight in the eye, the determined way his Molly often did and smiled a beautiful smile. He knew that his touch was not unwelcomed.

"Well not wanting to sound too much like that Essex prick, Elvis…Your place or mine?"

The mere fact she had felt confident to mention Elvis in his company again made his heart fly. Once upon a time he had screamed at her that she could never talk about him, he never wanted to think about Elvis and their lives with him. He was dead, and his name and the subject therefore should be. He'd known it was an unreasonable thing to say to her, and hurt her. She missed Elvis too, but he couldn't and didn't think of Molly, or her feelings, or how his projected grief was killing them, and also destroying her slowly too.

He helped her on with her coat, briefly touching her hair as she pulled it out of her collar, feeling the familiar silkiness of it and feeling a pang of longing in the sensation. Hands touching each other's in the process, eyes looking into eyes…remembering.

"Yours I guess. Then I can drive home from there…if that's ok. You can ask me to leave at any time…..we'll do this your way Molly."

He was panicked. Molly knew that and somehow that didn't feel fair. As soon as she had suggested that they talk, she had felt calm, in control, two adults who had once meant so much to each other about to communicate about past events. It felt such the right thing to do. Molly and Charles trying to move on, forge a new pathway in their story together. But as they were leaving she caught him staring at her, doubt rippling across his face. She was surprised at how this hurt her, and all she wanted to do was offer her comfort to him.

"Will Brains be ok with this? I don't want to cause trouble."

"Trouble?" Molly asked, then something clicked. "Oh my God Charles. Oh no. Pissing hell! I know you think I'm Queen of the Lost Cause and all that….but me and Brains …nooooo." Her body was rocking with laughter as she turned and pointed out Brains and Jess being very intimate on the dance floor. " Think he's more than happy with Jess".

Charles felt foolish and somewhat angry she was laughing at him. He wasn't used to being laughed at by anyone anymore. Those who loved him knew he wasn't as easy going as he had been, and they were always hesitant to mock him. Sam and Molly used to constantly tease him in the happier days, and he found it hard to have that level of self-deprecation any more.

On the drive back to Molly's they were silent, both nervous and doubting, questioning if this was a good idea. But the stubbornness in Molly meant she was not going to back down, and the desperate need for Charles to explain drove him to continue. Molly though was frightened, wondering if Charles was strong enough for this. Wondering if she was.

It was the first time Charles had been in the home she now shared with Tom, and Brains. When Marie was alive he'd never visited. He knew that this was the home her and Chris too shared as a married couple. Keeping that continuity for Tom. As he looked around he could see the heart breaking familiar traits, similar themes and personal choices which had once been in their home. Very much Molly. But as he looked around he could see nothing that had actually belonged to them, Mr and Mrs James, no ornaments, pictures, and no fucking chest of drawers that he remember talking about in their last ever conversation!

"This is nice." He said and sat down where she pointed at the breakfast bar.

"Yeah. I love it here. So does Tom, and that's what's important."

"Brains and that girl. How longs that been going on for?" He then asked. Truly not bothered, only happy that Brains was just Molly's lodger and friend. Certainly nothing more as Jacki had implied.

As she pour two glasses of wine and placed one down in front of Charles, before Molly had the chance to answer, he suddenly blurted out;

"I am sorry…..I am so very sorry Molly. I hurt you. What I did was wrong. Unforgivable. But you must know….I am sorry. I will be forever…..sorry."

Molly stilled, her glass in her hand. That's the first time he had ever said those words to her. All communication after he came back from tour was through text or lawyers, they never spoke. He'd never actually voiced his apology to her, and now he had she felt the end fall out of her messed up, bitter world. All the nasty negative, self-doubting, self-hating beliefs she had just went. It was like she'd been holding a ticking bomb in her heart all these years ,and suddenly, with his words the bomb had just stopped, no explosion, just a calm quietness now the ticking of hate had gone.

Charles didn't know how to take her stillness and quietness. He struggled to work her out, he used to know her so well, and now he was just not sure. He was shocked, when he heard the words that eventually came out of her mouth.

"Thank you" was all she said and then took a long drink.

"Thank you?" He said. "What…I don't understand Molly."

"You said sorry. I needed to hear that. I need to hear a lot more, but you saying sorry is a bloody good start." With that she sat down next to him, refilled their glasses and said. " So who wants to go first."

Charles took her hands and very very slowly brought them to his lips, she didn't pull away and he kissed them.

"Without being too ungentlemanly…I' think I'd like to go first Molly. I loved you and I hurt you. I need to tell you. I want to tell you." He said with a voice that hardly broke above a whisper.

And so Charles started on his story, his apology for all that had happened, it was bloody painful for both of them. Charles was pleased though that it hurt so much, it was his penance for being a dick, and it meant that Molly still cared.

He explained the PTSD and how he felt that by closing himself off to feelings, normality, it meant that he could never get hurt again. Never be hurt in the way he had been when Azzi betrayed him, when Elvis had died, never be hurt when that one inevitable day would arrive when Molly would stop loving him. She would stop loving him because she'd realise he wasn't worth her love. So he cut himself off, made the first of many fatal blows that went towards ending their relationship, withdrawing from those he loved, turning his back on all he held important in his life. Throwing himself into the arms of the Army, who turned a blind eye to some of his mistakes in order to utilise the skills of one of their exceptional, dedicated Officers. He was still bloody good at his job they convinced themselves.

He stated he didn't want to do it, he just knew he had to because everything had been his fault, all the bad decisions, the divorce, the deaths, the arguments, everything. No one was safe around him, he was toxic. He hurt, killed, ruined everything, and eventually he knew that's what Molly would think too…so he started to pull away. He tried so hard to pull away, but each and every turn Molly was there trying to fight for them. She wanted him to come back to her, she wouldn't give up. It was exhausting, trying to run, trying to stop feeling, when every day, every minute he kept being pulled back by the woman he loved.

Once the soft caring approach Molly had initially used had long gone, next came the ultimatums, and Charles used these as an excuse to ensure their marriage ended. To set Molly free, free from him. Finally her words started to give him a way out of their marriage. He hadn't expected to bed Georgie, or to turn to her, but somehow in his messed up mind that's exactly what he did. He admitted to Molly now on some level he felt he used Georgie on purpose and used her badly. He, for a long time believed it was her fault too. If it hadn't been for her they wouldn't have been back in Afghan, Elvis wouldn't have been on the roof. He was drawn to her in his grief and hate in equal measures. Without her in the picture Elvis would still have been alive. He started to have feelings for her, but these much later he identified weren't of love or of loyalty. They were of need, to feel something again, to feel something that Elvis had had. It was wrong, messed up and disgusted him.

What his PTSD had turned him into was someone Charles didn't like anymore. It had turned him into a man who had hurt his Molly, and that's why he ran away. He couldn't bear to look into her eyes and see the creature he felt he had become being reflected back to him. He only came back to the UK because he was becoming the man he once was, and because he needed to tell Moly how sorry he was. Lane was a mistake, regretted instantly. Repulsion running through his body as soon as the act was over. He wasn't being unkind to her, he knew she'd used him too to have that connection to Elvis. When she walked into that room they both knew they were only there because of Elvis, for their love for him not each other. Potentially she may have wanted more, but she could see that Charles had nothing to give her, anything and everything he had or ever had belonged to Molly. Always would, he told her. So Lane graciously bowed out of his life.

Charles had nothing more to say. For the past 20 mins Molly had just sat there listening to him, watching him break down in front of her, and all she did was sip her wine occasionally, holding one of his hands in hers. She didn't cry. She never interrupted, never asked one question or challenged one statement. He was amazed she still sat there. What he said was hard, but he really needed her to hear it. They need to move on. He wanted to be her friend. He hoped maybe he could start to be seen in her eyes again for the man she once loved, but most of all he just wanted to be part of her life in a happy way.

"Thank you." Was all she said. He was stunned. Where was the gobby, nuclear charged Molly, where was her temper? Where was her fight? Why wasn't she shouting? In all the years he'd been with Molly he knew she used to love to shout. That was she did, had she really changed that much?

She got up and washed her glass; a sign he wasn't welcome any more. He rose to leave, sick with the thought that he had poured his heart out, told her the truth, but it had been too much, too late, the hurt was still there and wasn't going to be forgiven or forgotten.

"I'll go then shall I?" She just nodded to him, still mute and stunned. "Night then." He turned to leave.

"Wait." She finally spoke, tears rolling down her eyes. "Just wait one fucking minute Charles. Please."

"For so long I was angry, might even have hated you; joked I've never hated any one as much before, but then one day I stopped feeling like that. Mainly because of Chris, Marie and

Tom's shit, but once I stopped I started to think."

She stopped there expecting Charles to come back with his usual, " Christ that sounds dangerous Dawes" comment, but he didn't and that wrenched her heart. So unsure was he, those little moments of familiarity difficult for him to invest in. Now it was his turn to be still, fearful any sudden move would scare her away.

"You were ill. I knew it, everyone knew it. She even knew it, but was too caught up in her shit to be a help to you or anyone. The only one that didn't know it was you, or at least you couldn't admit it. Hearing you tonight made me realise, you weren't you back then, and everything you did you were doing for others, to make amends, to protect them. You were wrong, but you were too far down that dark tunnel to see it."

Charles stood shocked. She was forgiving him? Just like that. Just like only Molly could. He started to feel hope. An alien emotion to him for so many years. How wrong he had been all those years to shut her out he knew that. She would have helped him, if only he had let her in.

"The thing is Charles by trying to do the right thing by Elvis, to help your grief, you did the wrong thing to so many others. To me. I get that you didn't know, couldn't get your head out of your metal fog. I get it wanting to do the best for a dead mate. That's why I married Chris, took on Tom. It's was the only way I could see I could help Marie. Maybe not the right way, but the only way I could."

She went over to him and wiped her hands over his face, wiping away the tears. It wasn't a loving gesture, but a caring practical one, a typical Molly Dawes' gesture. He stared into her eyes, blown away by her words and their closeness. Bodies almost touching. Both staying silent for many minutes. Breathing in each other's air. Necessary for them both to process what they had both been through. To get a calmness in both their nuts!

"So" she said leaning over to the counter, blowing out the air in her lungs hard, and then taking a swig from the wine bottle. " That was intense…and more importantly a start. At least we've made a start."

Charles laughed and grabbed the wine bottle and took a swig too. "I might make you right there Dawsey." Both laughing now.

"It's late. Brains will be back soon. I need my bed."

"Yeah. Good night Molly. Thank you for listening. Can we talk again? Soon?"

"I'd like that. Now piss off before Brains gets here and starts doing it with Jess on the door step cause he can't get in the front door."

Charles threw his head back laughing. "Christ I've missed you Molly Dawes.

"Ditto". Was all she replied.