Chapter Twenty
Pacey was sitting on a stool at the island counter when Joey walked in. The dinner dishes were washed and put away. The coffee was brewed and two cooling mugs were beside it, but Joey left hers sitting there, like Pacey had.
"I think we should get a few things straight first." Pacey said when Joey slid on to a stool across from him. Joey nodded in agreement. "I assume we're here to clear up a few things before we throw away our marriage?" He looked at Joey for confirmation, and when she nodded again, he continued with a calm control he didn't feel. "Fine. I don't think I need to say we need to be honest. I think that's pretty much a given."
"Complete honesty." Joey gravely concurred.
"Right," Pacey said, rubbing his clammy hands on the thighs of his jeans. "Casey knows something is up, so I think that if things get a little heated, we should go to the den."
"Let's do that now." Joey suggested, knowing that, if this conversation were going to follow the pattern of their last few conversations, it would get out of hand. Pacey nodded and got to his feet. They walked to the den in silence and Pacey closed the door. Joey sat on one end of the couch, and he took a seat on the edge of the sofa.
After a charged silence, Joey cleared her throat and said, "Um . . . I don't know exactly where to start."
"We can start with the obvious." Pacey suggested, a bitter tautness to his tone.
"The obvious?" Joey repeated blankly. She didn't know if he meant the reason why she wanted to talk to him, or if he wanted to discuss about that morning at the motel in Long Island.
Pacey could feel his anger growing again. He didn't even know why. Maybe it was just by looking at her, in the house, in the place where he slept and dreamt tormenting dreams about her, about them together. He didn't know. All he knew was that she was sitting there looking beautiful and hesitant, and he was getting impatient and irritable. "Do I have to spell it out for you?" He asked in annoyance.
"Well, obviously you do, Pacey, that's why I asked. I already said I don't know where to start!" Joey snapped. Pacey clenched his teeth together and visibly tried to relax himself. Joey exhaled, ran her fingers through her hair and tried to do the same. It already wasn't going well.
"All right," he said tightly, after a moment. "Since you don't know where to start, I will. I only have one question for you. Why did you do it?"
Thinking he was talking about her seeking a divorce, she replied, "Because of what I saw."
Pacey looked perplexed. His confusion gave way to anger as he remembered Melanie's words, 'Unless you did something to make her sleep with Dawson.' He then remembered his reaction to that idea. Well, who's laughing now, genius, Pacey thought bitterly. Not only did she do it, she was going to go a step further and divorce him. Furious at that, Pacey was suddenly ready to leave but he forced himself to stay and instead crossed his arms, raised his eyebrows at her and drawled in a voice saturated with venom and sarcasm, "And what exactly did you see?"
"You know what I saw, Pacey," she said evenly, trying in vain not to let his tone provoke her. "Don't make this hard."
"No, I don't know what you saw. What the hell did you see?" He demanded.
Joey angrily leapt up. "Forget it. This is ridiculous. I'm not going to sit here and let you taunt me." She pointed an accusing finger at him. "You said to be honest. I'm trying to be honest and all you're doing is making this hard."
She headed for one of the doors and opened it, but before she could leave, the doorknob flew from her hand and the door crashed back home. Joey whipped around, her anger at his audacity matching his at hers. "No," Pacey said bit out, inches away from her. "You're not leaving this time. No one is."
Joey glowered at him and planted her hands on her waist to prevent them from flying up and shoving him away from her. "Oh, I left. I did leave once," Joey admitted heatedly, "but at least I didn't keep leaving. Don't say 'you're not leaving this time' as if I was the one who kept running away."
"Spare me," he spit out in disgust. "Don't try to play the victim here, Joey. I'm not the only one who turned cold. I still haven't seen you cry over Mark!"
Knowing this was true, but still stung at the implication, she spit out, "That's because someone had to be the shoulder for the other to cry on. Someone had to keep going to work and pay the bills and feed and comfort the girls. Believe me, I did cry, but I couldn't cry to you or around you because I had to be the strong one."
Pacey bit his lip, duly chastened, but he still didn't feel that was a good enough reason to stray. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you, Joey," he began truthfully, "but that's not entirely fault. Our son died. I was grieving. But if you had given me any indication that you needed me to be your shoulder, I know I would've done so, and you know it too."
"Oh, so I suppose I'm the one to blame then, huh?" she sarcastically, moving away from the door and going across the room. "I'm the one who shut you out. I'm the one who wouldn't utter anything but monosyllabic grunts for weeks. I'm the one who ran away after every argument and stayed out all hours of the night doing God-knows-what. My mistake. I guess you're the victim then, huh, Pace? Shall I get on my knees and kiss your feet and beg forgiveness?"
Pacey's eyes were narrowed and his arms were crossed over his broad chest. "Well, since we all know that I did that," he drawled acidly, "do you expect me to do it to you?"
"No!" she cried, frustrated.
"Look, I know I wasn't the world's best husband after L.J. died," he went on. "I know that and I'm sorry. But that didn't give you the right to—"
"Didn't give me the 'right'?" she interrupted, shocked at his nerve. "You're not the supreme ruler of this marriage. You can't go around doing anything you want and not expect me to do the same. That changed a long time ago."
"I know that," he said through gritted teeth. "And you know that's not what I meant."
"So why don't you enlighten me, O Great One." She said, throwing up her hands and then crossing them over her own chest, her eyes flashing furiously at him.
Wordlessly, he stared at her, studying her, his face an unveiled mask of repulsion and disdain. "I can't believe you actually think that what I did justifies your actions." He seethed.
"My actions?" she repeated in astonishment. "I'm sorry, Pacey, you'll have to consult your list of grievances and inform me what it was that I did to justify yours."
"Christ, not this again." He rolled his eyes.
"No, not this again," she agreed tartly. "I meant your following actions. Don't be such a smart ass."
"What following actions? I didn't do anything."
"Right. And I'm stupid," she retorted sarcastically.
"I'd be inclined to agree." he jeered nastily.
"How dare you!" she shouted.
"How dare you!" he shot back. "You're the one divorcing me for something I didn't do!"
"And you know this how? You claim not to even know what it is! Give it up Pacey! I caught you!" she screeched wildly.
"Caught me doing what Joey?" he bellowed. "You're the one I caught fucking Dawson."
There was a moment's silence as Joey stared at him, thunderstruck.
"I guess I'm not the only one who 'saw' something." Pacey continued spitefully, holding his ground.
Joey pressed her fingers hands to her temples and applied pressure. She had a throbbing headache, her voice was sore and so many emotions swirled around inside of her that she wanted to scream. She was far too infuriated to pacify him. "Well, it would only be fair had I slept with him wouldn't it?" she needled maliciously, her eyes slits of wrath directed at him. "If you got to sleep around, why couldn't I?"
"What?!" Pacey looked astounded. "What are you talking about, Joey?"
Joey flipped a hand dismissively and contemptuously at him. "I saw your little girlfriend, Pacey. God, I can't believe you brought her to our house. How could you?"
He'd fallen still and was just staring at her. "So that's what you think you caught me doing, huh?" He asked after a long moment.
Joey knew that he was still angry, but there wasn't a trace of sarcasm in his voice. She continued glaring at him, remaining insolently mute, but the force of her anger was expelled with her outburst, leaving her feeling strangely hurt, frustrated, and weak.
"When?" He prompted.
She sighed heavily, dropping down onto the couch and burying her head in her hands, remembering that night. She rubbed her temples again and then looked wearily up at him.
Keeping her gaze, Pacey moved away from the door and slowly sank down onto the loveseat across from her. He took a deep breath and forced himself to soften greatly his tone. "When we came in here we said we were going to be honest, right? When was it, Jo?"
"It was about a week after I came back from Dawson's. A week after we…" she trailed off, not wanting to think about that, knowing that he knew what she meant. She took a deep breath, refusing to shed the tears of frustration and pain that threatened to spill. "I came home, fully intending to make up with you, and I saw you. In here. Sleeping with some girl."
Pacey blinked and his face twisted with confusion. Joey read his face as the confusion suddenly cleared and was replaced with uneasiness. She bristled at his expression, taking it as one of guilt, but Pacey began shaking his head vehemently. "Joey—I know how lame this is going to sound but, honestly, that was just my friend Leah. We did not do anything. I swear to you."
When Joey didn't say anything, he explained. "I'd been living with her and her roommate Tara and—"
"You were living with her, Pacey? With two girls?" Joey repeated in shock, feeling betrayed all over again, tears springing into her eyes. Pacey winced. He obviously wished he hadn't said that. Joey blinked quickly, trying not to let him see, but damn her emotions, it couldn't be helped. "How could you do that Pacey?" she demanded, furiously dashing the tears from her face, forcing her voice not to tremble and her body to remain seated. She wasn't going to run away until they straightened everything out.
"Joey, please listen." he begged, going across and sitting next to her. She leaned away from him, sinking back against the cushions on the arm of the couch, trying to drive away the image of Pacey sharing conversations and laughter over breakfast, lunch, and dinner and dessert and she didn't dare imagine what else with two other females. Taking a deep breath, she made herself meet his beseeching stare.
"You have to understand. When you ran off to Dawson with Casey and Aliya and left me here, I was miserable. I was worse than miserable, I was a wreck. Everywhere there were memories of L.J., and after you left there were memories of you and my baby girls too. I couldn't take it. I met Melanie shortly after you left. She worked in the diner I went to every time I left the house. She became my friend, Joey; a really good friend, and nothing else," he stressed. "She saw how depressed I was, and she offered to lend me her couch for a couple of nights. That's all."
"You could've gone to a hotel, Pacey." Joey said dully, not lifting her eyes from the carpet, wrapping her arms around her middle and hunching over at the waist. She began rocking back and forth, wishing that none of this ever happened. If only it could be so simple—to compact and form your burdens and your desires into a shiny, brand-new penny, and carelessly flip it into a fully-functioning wishing well.
O, wishing well, O, wishing well…
Pacey began speaking again. "Hotels are even more depressing. I went to a hotel for a week after one of our fights and half of the time I wanted to kill myself," he told her flatly. "So I slept on their couch for two nights only. That third night it was raining and we were bored and I came home to get the Monopoly game… And that's when I saw you… and—"
Joey interrupted him with a sharp nod and a curt, "Uh huh."
He nodded, and took his cue to go on without mentioning it. "Joey, I was so happy that morning. I'd realized how wrong I was in shutting you out and taking my sadness and anger out on you. I was so grateful for the chance that I could apologize and so glad we had a chance to work things out, but when I looked over for you, you weren't there…" Pacey trailed off.
This time, instead of stopping his words, Joey sadly finished his sentence for him. "I ran off again. And it fucked everything up again."
Pacey sighed, and wearily rubbed his face before dropping his hands to his knees and nodding. "Pacey," Joey said, finally looking into his eyes. "I was just—it was just so… I dunno, I—"
"Yeah Jo, I know," he interrupted softly, saving her. "You don't have to explain. I understand. Just let me finish." He paused to remember where he was in his explanation. The memory of that night obliterated everything else in his mind for the moment.
"So when I saw you weren't there," he continued, "I went to Bessie's to find out what happened but she said she didn't know where you were. So I decided to respect your wishes and leave you alone and wait for your call. I couldn't go back into our bedroom, not after what happened, so I slept in here. I stayed home from work the next couple of days but you didn't call. I tried your job but they said you weren't in. So I just laid here by the phone."
His brutal, uninhibited honesty was tugging fiercely at Joey's heart, and she had to struggle to keep her eyes on his and clear of tears. Pacey did not notice however, he was intent on the ending of his explanation.
"One day after I came home from work, Melanie showed up. She hates cabs so she walked, and it began raining. She came over because she was worried about me; I'd said I'd be back with the Monopoly game but I didn't come back or call to tell them where I'd gone. She wanted to make sure I was okay. So I gave her some dry clothes, broke out some alcohol so I could get through the story, and we got trashed and fell asleep. That's all that happened."
"So why were there clothes on the floor?" Joey asked quietly, her eyes back on the carpet. "And why were you all wrapped up under the covers together?"
"Under the covers together?" he repeated, frowning.
"Yes, in each other's arms under the covers."
Pacey's frown deepened and he shook his head. "As for the clothes, like I said it was raining and she got soaked. I gave her clothes to change into and while I was in the kitchen getting us something to drink she changed in here. I just forgot to take her wet clothes to the dryer when I came back," he explained. "And as for the covers, I honestly don't know. The blanket was already down here because I sleep in here. After spilling my guts and crying like a baby, I passed out. I honestly don't even remember going to sleep. She must have just lain down next to me and covered us up with the blanket. When I woke up I was laying here by myself and she was already up and ready to leave. But I didn't sleep with her, Joey. I never even kissed her, nor did I ever want to. I could never cheat on you, Jo, you know that. Even if I wanted to—which I never have or would—I couldn't, not knowing how you felt when your father did it to your mom."
Joey nodded slowly, hearing the truth of those words. Jen had been one hundred percent correct. And she believed him. She looked up at him and said, "Then you should know that I didn't sleep with Dawson, either."
Pacey's jaw tightened, his expression darkened, and he was mute for a long moment, staring broodingly at the blank television screen. Then he looked her in the eye and when he spoke, his voice was measured. "So why were you in bed together?"
"Well, after I found you with the girl… Melanie? I was heartbroken… you know how it feels. So I got back into the car and I just drove. I stopped at some motel and called Dawson. And I sounded so distraught he thought nothing of coming out to comfort me. It was terrible, Pacey," Joey told him, shaking her head, staring at him. "I just wanted to forget about it. When I went back to Capeside, I unloaded everything and felt better. So this time I needed to revisit childhood again, but I didn't want to unload anymore, I just wanted to forget. So I asked him if he could sleep with me, like we used to. Completely platonically, like we were kids again. And we did."
Pacey took a deep breath and when he released it his whole body sagged. He propped his elbows up on to his knees and pressed his face into his hands. He believed her. And the feeling of relief was so exquisite that he began to cry.
Seeing him like that, understanding exactly how he felt, Joey's own pent up tears began to flow freely. Tentatively, she got up and walked over to him. He heard her approach, and raised his haunted eyes to hers. He got to his feet and, hesitantly, he held his hand out to her.
Weeping, Joey fell into his strong arms and they locked fiercely around her. Together they stood, crying for the time they wasted being apart, crying for the needless pain they unknowingly caused each other, crying because their own stupidity and stubborn unwillingness to talk almost caused them to lose each other, crying with sweet and utter relief.
"I'm so sorry, Jo." Pacey whispered brokenly, holding her closer, rubbing his wet cheek against hers. "God, I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry too." She sobbed, pressing her face against his, hugging him tightly around his middle.
Reluctantly, he pulled away from her slightly and took her face in his hands and pressed his forehead to hers. She clasped her hands on to his forearms and sniffled.
When he raised his head he was smiling a little and he used the pads of his thumbs to wipe her tears.
"I love you." He whispered tenderly.
"I love you too, Pace."
And then he slowly kissed her and it was warm and loving and sweet and it felt like home. He released her face and slid his arms around her waist, pulling her body tightly against his and gently parting her lips with his tongue. Dizzily everything else slipped away as she put her arms around his neck and kissed him back.
Her entire being was plunged into awareness as Pacey's hands slid past her waist and, cupping her, nudging her snugly against him. She knew nothing else but the softness of Pacey's lips, the tantalizing thrust of his tongue, the way he felt pressed against her aching need, the way he felt growing harder as their kiss intensified.
Before they could get too out of hand, he lifted his head and looked down at her in wonder. Her lips were swollen and full and her eyes were heavy and languid and full of desire. "Christ." He swore, reverently touching her lips, adoringly stroking her cheek.
"Upstairs." Joey choked out.
He nodded. "Yes."
He opened the door, swept her up into his arms and carried her quickly up the steps, going faster when Joey began to drop soft wet kisses on his neck. The door of the bedroom was pulled to, but not shut and he nudged it open with his knee and set her down. Joey closed and locked the door and as soon as she turned around Pacey reached for her in the darkness.
When they kissed again it was urgently. Kissing her deeply,Pacey slid a hand to her breast and teased her nipple through the red cotton of her shirt, feeling her breasts swell against his hand. He abandoned her lips and tugged the hem of her shirt up. Joey lifted her arms and allowed him to pull the shirt over her head. Before he could take her back into his arms she was doing the same to his. Impatiently he yanked the shirt off.
Pacey unclasped the snap of her bra, pulled it off and bent his head hungrily to her exposed nipple. Joey caught her breath and slid her fingers into his dark hair, holding him to her and arching her back as stabs of pleasure shot through her body, gathering at the juncture of her thighs. She reached for the button of his jeans as he switched to her other breast, lavishing it with attention, swirling his tongue around the hardened nub, flicking at it with the tip of his tongue, closing his mouth around it, sucking hard and gently suckling.
Light-headed with desire, Joey fumbled with his jeans, finally undoing the button and unzipping them. He lifted his lips to her neck and teased the side of her neck with open-mouthed kisses while he undid her jeans and slid them down her hips along with her underwear. She stepped out of them while he kicked his off.
Divesting themselves of the rest of their clothes, Pacey and Joey fell to the bed. He pressed his throbbing hardness against her and kissed her lips hotly, moving his hips in small circles, driving her mad. She didn't need any foreplay; she was warm and soaking wet and she was dangerously close to release, just by his moving against her. "Jo…" He whispered desperately, seeking her approval, the tip of his thick arousal against her slick entrance.
She answered by moving her hands to his tight ass, lifting her hips and pushing downward with her hands, her whole body clenching as the blissful pain and the mind-blowing pleasure of his entry flooded her every pore. "Shit." She gasped unable to take the assault after so long.
"Fuck." He breathed, too overcome with the heavenly feeling of being inside of her to move.
Gingerly, he eased out and plunged into her again. He slowly increased the rhythm of his thrusts, and his heavy breathing matching hers. She moaned and matched his pace, lost in their lovemaking. He brought her close to climax over and over again, prolonging the act, slowing down when their tempo got too frenzied, until Joey could no longer take it. Whether he sensed this or she told him, Joey didn't know, but he suddenly began going faster, driving to complete the ride this time. Frantic, Joey moaned in abandon, meeting him thrust for thrust, holding him tightly, pushing harder and harder as she skyrocketed and exploded with long, drawn out cries of ecstasy that was muffled against the desperate kiss of his lips on hers and drowned out by his own moan of sheer rapture as he jerked convulsively, pushing himself deeper and deeper as he came.
Long moments later, Pacey kissed her damp forehead and then kissed her mouth. They kissed gently and slowly until exhaustion made him move off of her. Joey turned in his arms and he gathered her close and nuzzled against her, burying his face into her hair. "Mmm…" he murmured in satisfaction, sated and happier than he'd been in a very long time.
"Pace?" Joey spoke softly.
"Mmm?" he replied, too languid to say anything else.
"We're pregnant."
Pacey blinked once, twice, and then looked her in the eye. "Isn't it too soon to tell?" He asked, his voice a tender, low grumble.
"No, silly boy," she said affectionately, grinning at him. "It happened that night. I was going to tell you that earlier but… as you know we got side-tracked."
He stared at her. "Are you sure?" He asked gruffly.
"Very sure," Joey answered; and then she held her breath, awaiting his reaction in anticipation.
Pacey heaved a sigh and pressed his forehead to hers. There were no words to explain how he felt. So he kissed her lips and then held her tighter, whispering achingly, "Joey… I love you… I missed you like hell. I was in hell… I love you so much."
Joey answered him by kissing him, drawing his lower lip into her mouth and suckling gently. Pacey groaned, rolled on top of her and hungrily kissed her back. The night, like their marriage, wasn't over.