If the World Was Ending
Chapter 5
Her world had ended.
There was no escaping that now.
The door closed silently, but very definitely and firmly, behind her.
Molly walked quickly to the car, not daring to look back. She was unsure how she made it this far, her vision was blinded by tears. Anger, sadness, hate, and shame boiled up inside of her. Eventually she found herself sitting in the car, unable to drive more than a few metres away from the front room window. She couldn't sit there and let him watch this. She still had her pride. She wouldn't allow him to hurt, destroy her anymore.
It had been weeks since she had been to to see Edward and spoken to him about Charles. Weeks since Edward had been Charles' confessor and explained what his son felt, and how the PTSD; the death of Elvis; had destroyed him as well as destroyed Molly, and their marriage.
She knew then after listening to Edward that she would go to Charles. Make contact. Be the one to give that tenuous offering of hope; she just needed to plan it right. She just needed to feel right, to consider it all.
And so, she waited. Waited for many more weeks. Scared and afraid, but certain she'd go through with it. Half hoping, half dreading that Charles may make the first move. Unsure whether Edward would have mentioned it to Charles about her visit.
She was left in doubt. He never contacted her.
She knew though that Elizabeth knew, though they never both openly admitted they did. The subject, so skilfully avoided in the telephone call and the text message days later, confirmed that. Yet she didn't hear much hope in her ex mother in law's voice when she called. Instead, she could only hear her fear. Molly understood that. Molly shared that fear too. A fear of rejection again. A fear that this time she may not be able to bounce back.
Yet the strong determined character of the old Molly Dawes resurfaced itself, and eventually, nearly 5 weeks later she summoned up the courage, found out where he lived, and paid him in an unexpected surprise.
He was just as she had remembered him in her dreams. He looked older and more measured, but still the tall man she loved. Time, despite it all, had kind to him.
When he opened the door she immediately saw the myriad of emotions cross his face. Initially there was shock, she expected that, then briefly happiness, and then his face with overcome with with a palpable sadness. She thought she understood at once why. It was as Edward had said, he was eaten up with guilt, guilt for what he had done to her. She appreciated that he too was now probably consumed by the fear of what this meeting meant. He was unprepared and nervous. She was too, despite her plan now she was here she had no idea what was going to happen.
She bit down gently on her lip as he stood there silently. Taking her in Assessing her, and what the years had done to her. His mouth eventually began to move. Started to form a syllable of saying her name but failed to do so.
"I thought it was time we talked." She said gently. "Can I come in?" She nodded her head indicating the hallway that he blocked with his body.
He nodded briefly, her words shook him out of the trace he was in, and he stepped aside invited her into his home.
She stood there hesitantly in the hallway; this unfamiliar environment and waited out until he closed the front door and walked past her, leading her into the sitting room.
"I never thought I'd see you again" He said to Molly as she stood there nervously.
"Well, I never thought I'd see you again either." She tried to smile. "But I guess things change."
"Yes. I guess they do." He said as he indicated to take her coat but she shook ahead instead she accepted the gesture he offered for her to sit down.
"I know you came to the hospital." She began. "To see me, all those years ago after I got shot."
He nodded
"Yes I did."
"Thank you." She said.
"I always said I would be there. You knew I'd come." And he watched her nod her head at his simple but powerful statement.
"But you didn't stay? Why?"
Charles sat down opposite her. She couldn't fail to miss how very tense and worried he was. She wondered whether she was pushing him a little bit too much. Wondered if he was still too delicate for this.
"Didn't know if you wanted to see me. Didn't know if I wanted to see you. Just didn't know." He said his total honesty surprising even him.
She noted that.
"So how are you?" He gestured with his hand towards her body. "I mean after the shooting. You look well."
He had noticed her and Molly grinned at that. It was a small step, but she instantly felt it was too small a step. It hurt her insides and her heart knowing that the man she loved was sitting opposite her and they were acting like total strangers to one another. This uncomfortableness was something she hadn't expected. The detachment she felt in his company. This wasn't how she had planned it. Still, she tried.
"I'm good." She let out a false laugh as though the thought had only just struck her. "God it's nearly 2 1/2 years since then. I can't believe it. But yeah I'm good thanks and you?" She asked. She kicked herself for the stupidity of the question. The asking and the answering of it potentially could lead to a disaster.
Instead, he chose to ignore what the question meant to their past and politely answered.
"I'm better. Thank you."
"It's been hard hasn't it Charles?" She asked before she could stop herself. "I know it has."
Charles looked at her. Astonished by the simplicity of her words. Worried as to which door they would open. Yet he still chose to remain polite.
"Yes it has."
"I spoke to your Dad." She blurted out. "He explained a lot of things to me. Made me realise. Well, him and Candy did." She looked over at him and he raised his eyebrows in question.
"What's that then?" He asked with hesitation.
"That we needed to talk." She shrugged "We never did...did we? It kind of just ended. I left and that was it."
"You leaving didn't end it Molly. What I did...that's why it ended." He said with brutal honesty and immediately jumped up and walked to the window. She watched him in the silence that ensued, she felt he was looking for something. But she was unsure, she didn't know him like she used to. His back was now to her, and she felt as though he was a great distance away.
"I'm so sorry Molly. What I did. It was so wrong. But you have to understand I never meant to hurt you." He said with a tired sad voice. She expected more but accepted the few words of apology he had finally given her.
She was too nervous now to look at him. Unsure if he was now facing her. Instead, she looked at her hands that she held tightly clutched on her lap.
"I think I understand Charles. I'm trying to understand anyway. I guess I will understand a little bit more... after...maybe we could talk?"
He spun round and stared sternly at her. His voice was direct and cold.
"Why? Why now after all this time? Why do I find you on my doorstep wanting to listen to me? To hear me out."
The tone to his voice frightened her, but she bravely went on Blamed his abruptness on his fear.
"Because I reckon it's time!" Simply she said.
He laughed. A mean hard laugh, and Molly felt a coldness from him that still existed between them.
"I don't believe that Molly. After all these years? Why now? Why are you doing this to me?"
"Doing this to you?" She asked. Now she was angry, despite her promises to herself she wouldn't be. Yet more than anything she was bewildered.
She had been realistic about her coming. She hadn't expected him to greet her with open arms. She hadn't expected him to open up to her immediately and all the hurt and pain to suddenly disappear. Yet she had come with hope that after all these years they could talk, and finally he'd would be willing to. Yet here he was standing in front of her. A man she used to know so well, who now appeared to be a total stranger to her, someone who seemed tortured by her presence, rather than nervous or desperate for it.
"What do you mean 'do this to you' Charles?" She asked. "I just want to talk. To understand. To listen. To try."
He shook his head.
"No...it's too late really. It's been too long. Surely you can see that?" He stared at her bewildered.
"Yes. It's been a long time but I do think we need to talk. I do think that we need to remember that we were friends, and that maybe we could try to put all this hurt behind us, and maybe we could be friends again." She wasn't going to back down; she had come too far.
"You don't want me as your friend." He said forcefully. "Believe me Molly. You won't. Leave...leave now...please go."
"You don't want me here?" She asked; begging that the tears stayed in her eyes and she clenched her hands tightly so her nails bit into the palm. "Do you want me to go?"
Again, he turned away and his back was facing her as he looked once more outside the window. She watched. Noticed how tense he was, completely on edge. She was making him uncomfortable.
"Yes I want you to go Molly... please I can't hurt you anymore... you staying any longer it will hurt me. It will hurt you." She heard him say, though his voice was almost unrecognisable. It was part sadness and part loathing.
"Why?" She said quietly. "Why are you so certain us talking about what happened it's going to hurt me more? I'm a big girl Charles. I know it was in the past. I'm starting to realise what type of mindfuck you were in at the time. But I need to talk to you." She pleaded. "I need to get some understanding, and..." Suddenly she stopped as his head dipped but he still didn't look round and quietly she heard him say.
"And what?" He asked.
"And I guess I want to try to see if I can get my best friend back." She gushed out. That was the person she had missed the most. Not the Captain. Not the lover. Not the husband, but the man who was her best friend.
She heard the shuddering breath escape from his body at her confession.
"Oh Molly." He almost spat out; arms squarely tucked across his body. Protecting himself. "Why now? Why did you have to do this to yourself now? Why did you come back now? You left me."
"I know. It's been too long. I've been by myself for a long time Charles." She said. "I just can't move on. I still love you." She said with all the bravery she possessed.
She expected him to turn around. She expected him to be shocked by hearing her declaration, as much as she had been to make it. She had expected some response.
Instead, he stood with his hands now on the windowsill, gripping it tightly, and he said nothing.
A sick heavy atmosphere fell into the room. Briefly she wondered if it had been there all the time, but she just hadn't noticed it. She instead had been so intent on not looking at him, and only focusing on her breathing and her own world. Not his world in where they both now awkwardly stood.
Still, he said nothing, and she took the time to focus on her environment.
It hit her immediate. This wasn't a bachelor pad. This place wasn't cold and sterile like the home Charles had lived in before she has come along. This place had a touch of something.
It took Molly's mind awhile to realise exactly what she was seeing. She was standing in a room, not of a broken man, but in a room which somebody cared about. This was a home. And she gradually realised that this wasn't just Charles' home.
She noticed the cushions matching the rug.
She noticed the stylish coasters on the side table.
She notice scented candles dotted around the room.
She noted the carefully placed selection of magazines on the coffee table. Magazines that would never gave held Charles' interest.
And iced hand started to grip her heart.
She moved her head higher and looked further around the room more. There were pictures on the wall, and they were photographs. There are photographs of Elizabeth, of Edward, of Sam, and of old friends. These made her smile, and then there were photos that didn't. There were photographs that she didn't want to see.
"Charles?" She said in a strange voice, and he instantly turned around.
She saw the tears run down his face. She saw the pain etched into his face, but she needed him to hear the words.
"Tell me?" She asked quietly.
He shook his head and moved slowly. Carefully, frightened that if he moved too fast towards her he would scared her, and she would run.
"Tell me!" She said again, this time with more force and volume.
He shook his head.
"I am so sorry Molly. I never wanted you to find out. I didn't mean to. I never want to hurt you again. Why did you have to come?"
"Tell me!" She shouted at him as his arms went to reach her shoulders. "For fuck's sake Charles!" She sucked out stepping backwards and away from him. "Tell me now."
He closed his eyes and held back a sob, and then he opened them instead and began.
"You just took too long to come back to me. I never thought you'd come back. I thought I'd lost you forever."
"Tell me!" She spat. "Be a man." She demanded. "Say the fucking words."
"You left me. I'm with Georgie." He said with determination, but not joy. "I'm sorry Molly. You left me. I needed someone. She wanted me…you….. you didn't."
"How long?" She demanded. "How long is this been going on?"
"You promised you would always come back to me." He ignored her question. "You didn't Molly. You never came back. You'd promised. Instead you left me alone." He was crying now.
"How long?" She demanded again.
"What? Why does it even matter?" He asked. Moving closer.
"Cause it bloody does." She screamed at him as she pushed him away. "Yes it bloody matters." She still wouldn't let the tears flow She spun around to look at him poking him in the chest. "All this time Charles. All this time it was eating me up. Me; thinking I hadn't given you a fair chance. Thinking it was a PTSD that messed with your head. Thinking that she was just somebody you turned to for comfort once. Telling myself it was just that once cause you were confused! Shit...,yeah... look at me now. I'm the bloody mug."
"Molly please don't!" He said. "Georgie and me." He looked at her, now he was pleading for understanding. "Molly you left me; you left me; you didn't come back for me; you always promise you come back for me...but you didn't. What was I to do?"
She picked up her bag and moved to the door.
"You're asking me what the fuck you should have done Charles? Me? All I know is in the beginning you should have trusted me….your wife. Not that slapper. All I know is you shouldn't have shagged your best mates fiancé, and you most certainly should not have left me for That!" She spat out as she pointed at the picture on the dresser of the two of them standing smartly dressed and laughing. Charles and Georgie hold onto each other, sickening close and in love.
She stormed down the corridor and out of his, their, home. Listening to him pleading for her to understand, to realise that he had no choice but to stay with Georgie. Shouting at her if she didn't want him then he had no choice.
And so, she hurried to her car and it's was there, away from his prying eyes that she finally broke down.
It hurt her heart so much. She had been willing to give him a second chance. She had been willing to try again for them to have something. She wasn't sure whether or not she could let him back into her life the way she had before, but she thought he loved her, and she knew that she needed to give him the opportunity to prove it. Never once had she imagine she'd be confronted by the nasty bitter truth that she had just discovered.
Charles James and Georgie Lane we are now an official item.
Molly Dawes and Charles James were no more.
She had no more forgiveness in her heart. That had gone as soon as he confessed to her today. He had destroyed her; he had destroyed them for the very last time.
She rested the head on the seat of the car and cried. Many more moments later she opened her swollen red eyes and looked at the clock only to realise that she had been sitting in the car for hours.
She was exhausted and felt drained of all physical strength. She sent off a text to her mum explaining that should be over to see her at the weekend. Knowing she simply just needed a cuddle from her Mum. She needed somebody who understood.
Then she slowly closed her eyes and hoped the sleep would take away the pain in her heart. Her heart that was breaking all over again.
She was confused. Unsure what the noise was. A loud beeping sound played in her ear. She rolled over and realise it was her alarm clock. The pillow she had been resting her head on was soaked from the tears she had spilt.
Slowly but surely, she became aware of her surroundings and realised where she was. Still broken with the grief she felt, but realising her surroundings were of her room back at barracks. She wasn't in the car.
She hadn't been parked meters outside of Charles' house. She hadn't been to visit him. She instead had been in bed. She had only been dreaming. The nightmare that she had just lived through was just that. It wasn't real. It was cruel, it was painful, but it wasn't real life. It had been a dream. She hadn't confronted Charles. She hadn't learnt that he was still with Georgie. Her heart hadn't been broken in the most vicious and nasty way imaginable.
It was only a dream.
She slowly moved her tender body, still wracked with the sobs that she allowed to flow during the nightmare. Even though she had just had a night's sleep she still felt exhausted. She felt acutely the pain, the sense of loss, and it hung heavy on her.
She knew that she could never feel that in real life. She knew that if there had been anything to say about Charles moving on Edward would have told her all those weeks ago. That Elizabeth when she telephoned would have said soo too, but neither had because her dream wasn't true.
She believed that much. She also still believed in her husband Charles. She believed that no matter what he had done he would never do that to her. What had happened was beyond his control, that one and only time, his parents had reassured her, and she believed them. That what he had done all those years ago wasn't really the man who he was and that he would do that to her again.
She had to believe that, and she had trust in that. She had to because she couldn't suffer as she did with the dream. Real life couldn't turn out like that.
Now she had a fire in her belly. A mission. She had to do something before she did push him into the arms of someone else. She had always promised him that she would come back to him. That was their promise to each other, yet she hadn't.
He had left her, but she was the one who walked. She was the one who ran and ran and never stopped once to allow him to explain. To catch up to her.
Slowly and delicately she walked across to her washstand and started to splash her face. She looked at the image before her in the mirror. Her face was swollen and puffy, the tortured scenes of the night before had taken its toll on her. But despite how she looked, despite how she felt, despite the heartbreak she had just gone through there was a little bit of hope. A little glimmer.
She knew if her dreams could hurt her so much then reality would hurt her to so much more, and she wouldn't let that happen.
She wouldn't let Charles James escape from her. She needed to see him. They needed to talk. They needed to start working their way back to each other; into the love they had.