Maybe
Chapter 6
"So she called you then?" Tina asked as she watched Charles sit down and settle on her office chair.
He nodded his head and appeared to be distracted by something happening outside of her window. She wasn't fooled though. She was learned enough to know that it was a poor attempt at a distraction technique. Still, despite it, she was incredibly proud of him.
He was doing so well. Months ago if he'd received a call like that he would have insisted on an extra session, demanded time from her on a professional basis. But months later when that phone call did come through he reacted well. Used the techniques she had taught him, and instead of reacting coped and waited for his routine session with her to mention it.
She now watched him as he almost relaxed in her company. Something she never considered as possible when she had first met him. In the beginning he was closed, scared, ashamed. The opposite to the man she now saw.
When Charles had first walked through her door, many many months ago, she had noted lots of things. The main one was just how broken he was, by the guilt he felt for all the past events, and by the regret and undying love he had for his ex wife; for Molly.
At first she had tried to separate the myth from the fact about his relationship with Molly. Listened to his stories of their once perfect life together, and talked through them with him. Trying to show him that maybe it wasn't as perfect as he described it, as he remembered it, but as the years went on she realised it was a futile effort. He wanted Molly back and no matter how long it took him he was going to continue towards that goal. He was determined.
So now he sat in front of her. Their twice weekly sessions had dwindled off and now he came once a month, and that was enough.
"How did that make you feel?" She asked and saw his head snap right back into the here and now. Realising the session had begun. "Her calling you?"
"Shocked." He admitted. "Scared."
"You were Ok though?" She asked. "During the call? Afterwards?"
"Yeah." He felt relieved in telling her the truth. No panic attacked. No issues." He rocked his head back in the chair's top, almost relaxed. "Just really really shocked."
It had been an ordinary day. He was happy, as much as he could be now a days. Work was going well and he knew he was once again starting to impress. His work with failing recruits was showing progress, and the pastoral lead he gave them he found incredible beneficial to all involved. It was a role he'd never had considered before, almost forced into it, but to his surprise he found he genuinely liked it.
He felt the Army had given him a chance, when maybe they didn't have to, and now he wanted to do that to others.
"Did she say what she wanted?" Tina asked. More than curious. Expecting Charles to be needing more than he was to talk about it.
"To meet she said. To talk." Then he let out a huge sigh and shook his head. "That's what she said was the reason for her call."
"So what did you say?" A simple question but the hole session revolved she guessed around his answer.
"I said no." He watched as Tina tried but failed to hide her surprised.
She had never encouraged him to seek her out, and in the beginning he hadn't. Hadn't been strong enough, though she knew that sooner or later this day would come. She knew that as time went by as Charles became stronger and started to return back to 'him' that she would call him. Contact him, wanting answers, and Tina knew that she'd expect Charles to give them to her, regardless of the damage it might do to his recovery. So now it seemed Tina's biggest fear for Charles' recovery had happened yet he had handled it well.
"Why?" She asked. This was his time to talk not hers so she always kept her questioning brief.
"Because it's too soon. Because it's not the right time." He almost asked her. "And because I simply don't want to."
He thought back to that day weeks ago when her call came through. On his mobile which surprised him. He saw her caller ID and hesitated to answer it at first, but then he did. A sickening dread in the pit of his stomach as he did so.
He answered the call from Georgie Lane.
She had wanted answers, she had questions, she had things she needed to say, she had things she wanted to hear. But he felt it was still too soon for him, too unnecessary, and that truthfully he couldn't give her what she was looking for.
He knew Georgie was going through her own assessments. She had her own issues to confront. He knew she was under counselling too. That had been part of both of their conditions after their last fateful tour together. He knew that she probably need to see him to put some of her demons to rest, but still he couldn't. It wasn't his job to fix her any more, even if he could. To see her again would bring up too much, would cause him to re-live the past rather than move forward into his future, and it wouldn't benefit either of them. He felt proud that he had been so strong and focused in his abilities.
And so he said no. He said not now and possibly not ever.
A long time ago they had both sat down together and had two cathartic sessions immediately after they had sex, then again after the jump; and he felt that was enough. That the demons they needed to face had been, and they didn't need to do that again. They had talked about it as much as they could talk about. They weren't each other's solutions, they had been each other's problem.
Initially he felt guilty about turning his back on Elvis' girl, but as time when by he knew she'd cope without him. Georgie always had. It wasn't him that she needed. The man she needed was dead, and hard though it was she now needed to make a new fresh life for herself once again, and returning back to the ghosts of Molly, Charles and Elvis would never allow her to do that.
"And how did she take it?" Tina asked. Curious. She had seen Georgie's file a long time ago and was aware of her issues too.
"Well she said she understood. Sounded hurt, tried to persuade me, but when she realised it was no good we then we said our goodbyes." He leaned forward and looked directly at Tina. "Our final goodbye. Buried the past and opened the door to our new futures and all that shit." He half-heartedly teased.
Tina looked at him with her school teacher stare.
"So we agreed that no more. We had to stop and move forward." He admitted. "That that was it...our goodbye."
"How did that make you feel?" She asked. "That you'll never see her again? Hear from her again?"
And then Charles did something he had never done in over two years of therapy. He laughed. He really laughed loud and he laughed happily.
"Fucking relieved." He answered smiling. "So fucking relieved."
He stood at the door and assessed the issue. It didn't need to be done but he needed to do it. He felt his anxiety levels over that last few days had increased. So he needed something. A task.
To be fair the anxiety had been increasing for a long time, but since he had last seen Molly they had started to become more frequent. Controllable still but more frequent. He recognised that and accepted it.
And this was how he managed them. How he grounded himself. As he clung on to a sense of reality and stopped himself from falling into a deep dark pit again.
He cleaned.
He kept himself busy.
He organised his home.
He survived the wave of destructive emotions and thoughts that had in the past consumed him, by simple household tasks.
The pantry didn't need reorganising. He was certain he'd done it merely a week or so before, but this was one of his recognised therapy tasks. So standing in front of the cupboard was now where he was to be found.
He'd spent the entire weekend alone. No Sam. No friends. No parents, and once again no word from Molly. He hadn't expected any though. His hope on that matter was getting less as time went by.
A usual standard lonely existence that he practiced. He wasn't wallowing in it though. He accepted it for what it was. Past experience had shown him friendship, relationships only brought heart ache and uncertainty. He stayed away from all relationships these days that didn't include immediate family and mandatory professional expectations.
As he organised the radio played hits from the 80's and he found himself singing along. Still holding on to his enjoyment to bursting into song at a moment's notice. Yet tonight even he was surprising himself that he knew the words to so many. The noise and the task helped distracted him from any other thoughts for now. Happy or sad ones.
"Holy mother of... what the hell are you doing here." He asked loudly in total surprise, his body still tense from the shock. His heart hammering in his chest.
He'd made the trip to the outside bin, not bothering to turn the outside light on when he had suddenly seen her lurking by his front door. Her presence had scared him.
"You frightened the bloody life out of me." He said still totally confused by her being there at his home.
Desperately trying to concentrate on bringing his heart rate down from the shock. Trying to work out why she was there, he failed to sound polite or happy to see her.
"Sorry." She said quietly and looked down at her feet. Then said no more. She was so unsure as to whether she'd be welcome here. Unsure if it had been the right thing to do.
It had been a huge leap of faith her coming. Pulling in favours to find his address, and had not once hesitated in her plan. Yet now she was here she was uncertain as to whether she should be or not.
"Are you ok?" He asked. Reality snapped him back to the here and now. Scared as to why she was unexpectedly there. "What's going on?"
Molly looked at him. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." She said meekly.
"That's ok." Charles waved his hand about to trigger the light sensor. It blared on and he saw the tear stains on her face. "Hell Molly. What's happened. You ok?"
"No," And she let out a big sob. "No I'm not."
He went to speak, to move towards her, comfort her, but she started to speak, and silenced and stilled him.
"I read your letter." She said.
"You...?" He stared at her. Amazed that she was here, and that she had finally read the letter. "You read it?"
"Yes I bloody read it." She snapped back. Dashing away once again at her face soaked with tears. "Why else do you think am I here?"
"Ok." He said tenderly. "Do you want to come in? Talk?" He hoped against hope she wouldn't run.
"No. Yes." She sighed and he saw her shoulders sink. "I don't know." She said quietly. She hadn't thought past just finding him.
"Ok.?" He repeated cautiously. Then watching her closely knew she was directionless in all this. Just like he was. "Look come in. For a minute at least. Then go if you want. I won't ask you to stay if you don't want to."
Molly obviously saw this as a plan. She followed Charles slowly into the kitchen and instantly looked at the mess. The entire contents of his kitchen appeared to be on the floor.
"What's happened?" She asked looking at him with concern. "Caught you at a bad time?" Trying to make things light, but scared by the mess. Worried as to what it meant.
"No it's fine." He reassured her as he attempted to guided her in. Stepping over some cans of soup as he made his way to the kettle. "Cuppa?"
She just stood there in the doorway and only gave a small nod of her head. He bravely made a move, hoping it was worth the risk and gently pulled a chair out motioning with his head so she could sit.
He turned away, and didn't know if she would, but inwardly sighed when he heard rather than saw the chair scrape further out as she sat down.
Nothing was said and the sound of the kettle boiling, and the cups were the only noises in his kitchen. Within minutes he turned placed a cup of tea in front of her and sat down opposite with his coffee.
She smiled weakly but remained mute.
"So?" He asked after moments more of no talking. He didn't want to push her. Knew he couldn't push her. "You read the letter? My letter?"
"Yes." She stared at the fascination of the hot drink in front of her. "Yes I read your bloody letter." She replied ever so quietly.
He nodded but said no more for a while.
"And?" He eventually asked once the fascination of his coffee dimmed. Scared though of her answer.
"And?" She replied back. He could see she was brimming with emotions but he was unsure which ones they were.
"Well... I mean... you ok? Everything ok?"
At that she angrily snorted. "No Charles everything is not fucking Ok!"
He nodded wisely as though he understood, but truly he didn't.
Clueless after all this time why she would choose to read his letter, years after he had written it, and why she would turn up on his door step. Uninvited, unannounced, unexpected.
"I mean how can things be ok?" She went on. "After that. After what happened between us. After you and her. After me reading that letter. Tell me Charles exactly how you think things can be ok?"
Her voice was rising with each sentence. He saw the anger in her rising too. Her body tense and closed to him. He knew from past experiences that once her blue touch paper had been lit, once Molly was ignited, it took a lot to bring her down. So he didn't try. He became instead diplomatic.
"What's this about then Molly?" He held her gaze and calmly spoke. "What is it then that you want Molly?"
The question surprised her. She hadn't expected it. To be asked what she wanted. To be asked a question she didn't know the answer to herself.
She expected more apologies from him, more attempts to ask for forgiveness. She'd even expected a fight, but this was a new side to Charles. More patient, more open, and she knew right there and then as he held his ground awaiting for an answer to his question, he'd changed.
She considered all that she knew and felt, then after long pause she knew what to say to him.
"I don't know what I expected, or what's gonna happen." She swallowed hard and struggled to find the braveness in her heart to say the next words. "But maybe, just maybe I think it's time we talked."
It hadn't been what he had expected.
He'd thought fireworks. Screaming. Physical displays of anger, but never expected her demand to talk.
"Talk?" He looked at her with surprised and a desperate need to smile. Yet he didn't want to, still unsure, still too scared. "Talking would be good." He admitted.
She smiled at him but it didn't reach her eyes. He thought she regretted it already. She looked pained.
"You ok?" Habit made him ask. It was the most used line in their emotional history. Once it had been 'I love you'. Now he always seemed to ask her how she was.
"No." She shook her head and winced, misunderstanding his concern. "Might gonna need some headache tablets. If you have any."
"Yes. Of course. Bad head?"
"Bad hang over." She admitted with a smile. "Think my new friend and I over did it last night."
He raised his eyes and swallowed his fear. "New friend?" He asked with neutral a sound as he could.
"Yeah; just me and a bottle of red in a hotel room." She clarified. "A whole bottle to be fair. Valpolicella Amarone to be exact."
He whistled out. "Wow. Expensive friend." He nodded his head then tipped it to the side. "You only used to drink that on special occasions or at the spa I used to remember."
He stood and searched through the cupboards. "So what was it? A special occasion?" He tried again to sound unaffected. And prayed it hadn't been a celebration that he didn't want to hear about.
"I was at the spa." She said quietly as he handed her the packet of tablets. "Me and Bella."
"You still go?" He asked shocked. That was one tradition he never had expected her to keep up.
"Well yes. Well no. First time since..." She didn't need to finish that sentence.
He moved to sit down again and in doing so he knocked over numerous tins and packets from his groceries on the floor.
"So what did I miss?" She asked waving her hand around at his mess. "What's the reason for all this chaos."
He felt embarrassed and started to place the cans and food into the cupboard. No system. No organisation. It wasn't how he did it, but he knew once she'd gone it would be a task he'd turn to again. A task to help him process whatever it was Molly wanted to talk about.
"Nothing, it's just part of my schedule. Routine." He admitted after a moments consideration.
He nodded to the kitchen door where there was a timetable of tasks, chores for him to do. All graded and next to them descriptions on what to focus on while doing them. She realised it was part of his mental health treatment plan.
The sight of it brought her back to their reality. How he was still recovering. He had admitted that he was. How carefully she had to go. He was still delicate in so many ways. Almost as delicate as she was.
"So?" He asked as her sad face turned back towards him.
"So!" She smiled at him. Then said no more as she sipped her tea
He waited. The silence between them wasn't uncomfortable. Wasn't hard to endure, it was just there.
"The letter." She began once her tea had almost gone. "Thank you." Quietly and shakily she offered a smile.
"Thank you?" He asked amazed that they were her first words on the subject. "For what?"
"Writing it!" She suggested. "Gave me something, helped me understand a bit about what went on and why." She looked hopefully at him.
"Ok." He said still ashamed of the reasons that he had to write her such a letter. Remembering what he had written and what he had done all over again. Too many of the wrong thoughts started to filter in.
"I'm sorry." She broke him out of his thoughts. She had sensed some change in him and her timing was perfect. The spell was broken for now.
"Sorry?" He shook his head with total lack of understanding. It was all confusing for him still at times.
"For taking so long to read it." She answered.
He laughed.
"That's ok Molly." He smiled at her. "Though I did worry if you ever would."
She shook her head, almost not hearing him. "And sorry for all that happened. For all you went through." Her emotions took over and she broke down. Her next words were sobs. "For what we went through."
He couldn't stand it any longer. The fear of her rejection over rode his need to do something. He moved to her side and squatted down by her. He reached out for her hand and was amazed that she let him take it. That she didn't pull away.
"Hey." He said tenderly. Using his thumb to wipe away the tears that trickled down her face. "You weren't to blame. None of it. It was me. It was me that totally fucked up."
She caught his face in her spare hand and smiled as he leaned into it. A simple intimate action that made her more than happy. A reaction from a time gone by.
"Wasn't all you. Some of it yes. But me..." Her breath shuddered. "I ran. Never gave you the chance once you started to try. Wasn't there for you to help you get better..."
"I didn't expect you too." He said honestly. "Molly I betrayed you. Betrayed us."
She pulled her hand back, away from him as he spoke. The harshness of the reality of his actions stinging her once again. He saw that and stood. Moved away.
"I never wanted to." He said as his back turned away from her. "I was looking down on this life I had and it wasn't me. The things I said. The things I did. It wasn't me. Yet I couldn't stop myself. Wanted to, but couldn't and I just couldn't understand why!"
She stood. The past twenty four hours. The past three years of separation. The past... that's what it now needed to be.
"I know. I understand. I read your letter." She touched his shoulder gently, helplessly drawn to give him comfort. Knowing that as his heart broke then so did hers.
He didn't turn around. He dipped his head as he gripped onto the kitchen counter.
"I don't know how you can forgive me." He said with a voice thick with his feelings. "I can't forgive myself. So why should you? I hurt you."
She pulled her hand way and just stood behind him. Close, but not too close.
"Yeah you did, and I don't know. I don't know if I can totally forgive, but I do understand." She said slowly. "And that's more than I did this time yesterday, or last week, or a year ago. So it's progress ain't it?" She added hopefully.
He turned around, though still staying pressed up close to the counter. His body squished into its surface. Too afraid to move forwards onto her personal space.
"I guess it is." He admitted. "Thank you."
"Think we've a lot to talk about. Haven't we?" She walked back to her chair appreciating his uncomfortableness being so close to her. "For now."
"Guess we have." And he followed her. "You know that wasn't the first letter that I wrote you?" He admitted.
"Really?" She looked shocked. "I never got any others!"
"Didn't post them." He admitted. "No address! Never knew where you lived."
"Sam did." She half smiled back. Then watching Charles' face cloud over with confusion she added. "He came to see me the other night."
"By himself?" He could never imagine that Rebecca had taken him, and seeing Molly nod. "The little bugger…just wait until I see him again. He was meant to be grounded."
Molly bit her lip as she tried to hide a little chuckle, but failed and Charles saw and a smile spread across his face too. It felt so natural, so right between them that they both just held each other's gaze for a while.
"What do you want Charles?" Molly broke the silence and she fixed him with a stare. "Out of all this. The letter. Me. Us. What do you want?"
"I want..." He hesitated. He wanted to say he wanted her. Them. Everything they once had and he threw away. He wanted that back. But he didn't. "I think friends would be good." He said softly.
She considered his offer and smiled at him.
"Friends? Ok. Think we can work on that." She promised him. "We can at least try."
"I don't know how easy it going to be Molly. I'm still broken. Still have huge fucking invisible band aids over all the cracks that appeared." He needed her to know the truth.
She reached out across the kitchen table.
"Ok. I understand." She squeezed his hand. "But this time I'll be around to help. If this time you want me to and will let me?"
"I do Molly." And he squeezed her hand back.
He watched her stand and say her goodbyes.
Explaining work was calling in the morning and so was her bed. She saw the sad look cross over his face as she started to make tracks.
"I'll be in touch." She promised. "Don't worry."
He watched her go almost as silently as she had come, and turned to refocus his attention on re organising his pantry once again.
But this time he did it with a smile on his face and a seed of joy on his heart.
Maybe it was seeing Molly again that had put it there.
Maybe it was because she said she be in touch and he believed her.
Or maybe the smile was plastered across his face was because of the soft gentle kiss she had placed on his cheek just as she left.