Some Things Are Better Left Unsaid
Rated PG-13 for language and some violence.
Disclaimer ~ I don't own 'em.
Summery ~ Evelyn is suffering from postpartum depression while an old flame from Rick's past returns to haunt the present.
Ch 4
Evelyn leaned against the side of the London Bridge, ignoring the sounds of the autos that speed by behind her. The tears had yet to stop burning her eyes, baffled and bewildered that he had actually thought her anger was simply because he had lied to her. What a fool she had been. To have thought a man like him could love her and her alone until the day he died. The heart that was slowly tearing in two proved without a doubt that she would love him for eternity, yet how could she love a man she couldn't trust? She lowered her head into her hands, the sounds of the entire world silencing in her sorrow.
She neglected to notice the man that had come beside her, however, leaning against the railing. He stood there for a quiet moment before finding the will to speak.
"Evelyn?" he said softly, just loud enough for the woman beside him to hear before the sounds of traffic drowned it all away. The woman nearly leapt out of her skin, turning to face her husband.
"Just leave me alone," she said bitterly, turning to walk away. Rick grabbed her wrist, pulling her back. "Let go of me!" she cried, hitting his chest with her free fist. Rick quickly grabbed the other hand, clasping them both in his own. A car stopped beside them as Evelyn continued to struggle.
"Is everything all right here?" the driver asked.
"Yeah," Rick answered. "My wife's a little mad at me." The driver smiled knowingly before putting the car back into gear, joining the flow of traffic once more.
"Everything is not all right," Evelyn said defiantly. "And I'm not just a 'little mad.'" She ripped her hands free from his grip, stalking down the length of the bridge once more.
"Evelyn, will you just listen to me for one damned minute?" Rick said, catching her by the arm. "I'm sorry." Evelyn spun around, her face red from the tears, her eyes blazing with fire until she made the grave mistake of looking into his eyes. The sparkling blue had lost its shine, clouded by some great secret he longed to reveal. Her face softened for a second before she remembered her anger. "I should have told you," he continued after a brief second. "But I didn't know how. And I never expected to see her again."
"That's not an excuse."
"I know it's not. I just wish I knew what to tell you."
"The truth."
"This isn't exactly the ideal place to be explaining that." He thought for a moment before saying, "Let me take you to dinner. Please? I promise I will explain everything."
"Who's watching Alex?" she said suddenly, her son leaping to mind.
"He's next door with Mrs. Bentley."
"And you'll tell me everything?"
"Every detail down to the tablecloths." She cracked a small smile as she willingly followed him back to the car.
****
"Okay, so there were no tablecloths," Rick admitted after they had been seated at a quiet little café overlooking the Thames. "But there is a lot to tell.
"I met Marguerite back in the Legion when we were stationed in France. Beni and some of the guys thought it would be fun to take me out for my birthday. Of course, their idea of fun was the local brothel. That was where I met Marguerite. The boys paid for her, we went upstairs...but nothing happened. We talked until the sun rose. She told me about her childhood and how she was orphaned, with all of her parents' wealth left to her, but she wanted nothing to do with it, so she sold herself. Go figure. As I was leaving, she told me she loved me and asked me to come back. I couldn't return the first part, but I told her I would come back. I really didn't know what love was, so how was I supposed to know if I was in it? Looking back on it all now, I wasn't. But I did care for her. So I did keep going back. She wanted to get married, but I said no. I wasn't ready...I knew that much. I also knew that any day we would be getting orders to ship off to Libya. But I could never find the will to tell her that. Eventually, the order came, and try as I might, I couldn't figure out how to break it off with her." He closed his eyes for a moment, the shame apparent in his drooping shoulders.
"So you didn't break it off," Evelyn finished.
"No," he said quietly. "I didn't know how. And I certainly know what it's like to be orphaned and feel abandoned. I couldn't imagine doing it to her. I may not have loved her, but I cared enough."
"I can see why she was upset," Evelyn said with raised eyebrows. "I would have been."
"I was nineteen. I didn't know any better. I didn't think it would ever come back to haunt me." He grinned pitifully at her for a moment before continuing. "For about five months, I thought of nothing but her...maybe I did love her a little. I don't know." He suddenly felt strange, telling his wife about his past love life.
"But that still doesn't explain why you ran off after her yesterday...without a word."
"I was getting to that," he said with raised eyebrows and a small grin. "Like I said, I thought of nothing but her for months. I had hoped that she would have forgotten about me and moved on with her life. Yesterday proved to me that wasn't the case. She had been waiting eight years for me. I felt I owed her some form of an explanation. I should have said something before I ran out. I know. I guess I just went on the blind faith that you trusted me."
"Rick, I do trust you," Evelyn replied. "But it's a little strange having some woman come to the door asking for your husband and then your husband, without a word, bolts out the door and doesn't come home for hours...then he won't tell his wife what the bloody hell was going on!" She realized she was yelling by the end, glancing around at staring patrons. She sank down low into her chair, her face flushing.
"Sweetheart," he said, taking her hands in his, "I'm sorry. I know I should have told you last night. I was tired. The thought hadn't even crossed my mind. I had spent the entire night trying to explain everything to her. It didn't go over very well." He pulled back as the plates were set upon the table.
"So how did it all end?" Evelyn asked, desperately wanting to hear that he was never going to see her again.
"I don't know, in all honesty. She seemed all right last night." Evelyn could read his face like an open book...there was something about last night he still wasn't telling her.
"How 'all right'?" Rick raised an eyebrow, a knowing grin on his face.
"Well, when I pushed her off of me for about the forth time, she seemed like she was handling it well." Evelyn allowed a small grin to break. She reminded herself that had he had anything to admit to her last night, he would have. Nothing had happened.
"So nothing happened," Evelyn said, wanting to hear him say these words as much as she needed to breathe.
"Nothing will ever happen."
"That is not what you told me last night." Rick and Evelyn turned toward the voice, just as Marguerite bent over Rick, planting a deep kiss on his lips. Evelyn threw her napkin on the table, standing up so quickly, her chair toppled over. She stormed out of the restaurant, half the other diners watching her, the other half watching the show at the table just as Rick finally pushed off Marguerite. "Evelyn!" he cried out, shoving Marguerite aside. "What the hell did you do that for?"
"It's all a part of the game, mon cheré," she said with a cynical grin. "Vous serez les miens encore*."
"Don't count on it," Rick replied, throwing more than ample amount for the bill on the table, chasing after his wife for the second time in one afternoon.
*"You will be mine again."