Chapter song: And Then You by Greg Laswell
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight.
Huge A/N at the bottom.. well, huge for me.
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Sitting in their bed with her back against the headboard and her journal settled onto her raised knees, angry tears fall from her eyes as her pen glides furiously across the pages, purging all of her conflicting thoughts down onto the paper. Her words are evident of the battle she feels within herself and the situation she and her husband have found themselves in.
…Lost. Angry. Hateful. Love. Longing. Lost. I don't know what to feel anymore. I pull him to me, and then I push him away. He tries to talk to me, and I punish him with my silence. I'm so afraid to let him back in again, and I know that if I look at him that's all it will take…
She writes about the confusion she feels towards the relationship her husband had with the other woman, and all of the questions that she's been trying to tell herself wouldn't matter as long as he ended it with her. She knows that as long as they go unanswered, she'll always have that lingering doubt that hovers in her mind and they'll never be able to move on from this.
… I need to know what he meant when he said he used to work with her. Was she part of the board he worked with when they were developing the new department? Does she still work there? Does he still see her, talk to her?...
She trembles with an immense amount of anger and hate as she thinks about that woman and everything she stands for. She had to have known he was married if she worked with him, and that thought makes her shake with even more rage as her anger burns into the pages.
...I hate her, and I don't even know her name. I hate her, and I don't even want to know her name. She's faceless, she's nameless. She's nothing to me and, yet, she almost destroyed me. I hate her…
The anger she feels towards her husband and his infidelity grows stronger as she continues to write, but the love that she feels for him is always there to intercept.
… I love him, but I sometimes wish I didn't. I feel like I should leave him, but I know I can't live without him. I hate him for that, but I love him too much to leave …
As she writes about her feelings towards him reading her journal, she still feels upset about when he read it. It's the one thing that keeps her doubting everything he has done since that day and she knows that if she's going to forgive him, she needs to get past it. Her heart knows he's been honest in every action he has made, every note he's written, and every apology he's given her, because that's who he is, and that's the person she has known for over twenty years.
…I think of the man he's become since he's read my journal and I know in my heart that he's being genuine because he's exactly the man he used to be before everything started to fall apart…
She thinks of tonight and becomes frustrated with herself as she still feels a little anger towards her husband for not showing. She knows she's being irrational about it, but it still doesn't stop her from feeling that way.
…I still can't help but feel angry at him for not being there tonight, and I'm angrier with myself for feeling that way. How was he supposed to know I wanted him there when I'm still not sure myself? I know that if that was what I really wanted, I would have remembered to tell him, and I didn't. He didn't show and I didn't expect him to until I was standing there alone watching the couples and families walk by, longing for that again…
Her writing starts to slow as her eyes become heavy and her hand begins to cramp. She pauses for only a few moments to stretch and rest her hand before she continues writing the last of her thoughts, feeling a bit calmer after getting everything out.
... I was starting to fear that maybe it was the idea of being alone that was keeping me from just ending this hell and moving on, but now I can see that it's not. It's him and everything about who we used to be, and could still be, that I want and need in my life. I know that if I don't just let go and open up to him soon, we'll either fall back to where this all started, or we'll fall completely apart with no way to repair us. I don't want that and, by him not showing up tonight, I can already see that happening. Maybe it was a good thing that he didn't show…
After closing her journal and setting it aside, she scoots down further into bed and glances at the clock. It's a lot later than she thought it would be and she starts to wonder when her husband will come up to bed. It's not unusual for him to stay up this late, but tonight she finds herself craving his closeness again and she doesn't want to fall asleep until she can feel the warmth of him beside her.
Rolling onto her side, she stares at the clock until she's unable to keep her eyes open any longer. The clock reads 12:04 just before she closes her eyes and succumbs to sleep; completely unaware of the turmoil her husband is going through just downstairs.
Since his wife came home, he's been sitting in the living room staring blankly at the television, having no idea what he's even watching. He can't stop thinking about how much he has failed his wife, making him feel numb with dread as he realizes that a future without her has become more than just a possibility now. He could tell just by the way she looked when she came through the door that he was losing her, and watching her walk up the stairs made him feel that maybe he already has. He swore to himself that he wouldn't let them go back into that dark place they were in before, but he let it happen again and, this time, he doesn't think there's any way out. He knows he will never be able to leave her no matter how much he thinks she's better off without him, but that doesn't mean he wouldn't go if she told him to.
He tries to think of anything he could have done differently these past two weeks to keep them from coming back to this place, but he still feels at a loss. He's not sure if he should have tried harder by ignoring her need for space, or if maybe he should have tried less and just kept his complete distance from her like she had asked. Then he wonders if it would have mattered either way, and if this has just been a losing battle he's been fighting all along, even though she'd told him she wanted to work things out. He's been holding onto those words with a vice-like grip ever since she'd said them, but that's never stopped his fear that she could change her mind, and he can't blame her if she has.
He's brought out of his stupor as his phone starts to buzz loudly across the coffee table, alerting him that he has a new text message, most likely from his son. Leaning forward, he grabs the phone and sees that his assumption was right as he reads the text from him.
Crashing at Jared's. Be home in the morning.
After replying back an 'okay', he checks the time and sees that it's after midnight. Knowing he has an early day tomorrow, he shuts off the television and locks up the house before heading to bed.
When he enters the bedroom, he sees his wife curled up around her pillow fast asleep with her bedside lamp still on. After undressing, he walks over to her side of the bed to shut the lamp off but instead, he's stunned into place. There, sitting beside her lamp with a pen sticking out between its pages, is her journal. He didn't even know she still had it, assuming she had gotten rid of it as soon as he told her he'd read it. Tearing his eyes away from it, he glances down at his wife and almost wishes he hadn't. The vast contrast from when he saw her at the park compared to now, looking at her swollen, closed eyes and the silver lines streaked on her face from where her tears had dried, cements any thoughts he'd had earlier about losing her. The crushing pain of resolve rushes through his body as he realizes that as much as he wants to hold onto his marriage with everything he has, they can't keep living like this and he's going to have to step in soon. He has a feeling that once he does, nothing will turn out in his favor, but at least she'll be able to move on and not have to cry herself to sleep every night because of him.
With one last look at her journal, having no desire to read what's in it, he turns the lamp off and makes his way to his side of the bed. After pulling back the covers, he gets into bed as gently as he can so he doesn't wake her but, before he can lay all the way down, he hears her take in a deep breath and move around. He stills only for a moment before laying the rest of the way down into bed, knowing she's about to seek him out in her sleep. She's been doing this for the past few nights now and each time he has felt her come into his arms, it made him feel hope that they could get through this together. But, now, as he brings his arms around her, all he feels is the pain in his heart as he realizes that this could be one of the last times he holds her like this. A couple of tears trickle out from his closed eyes as that thought runs through his mind, but he holds back anymore that want to fall and pulls her closer into him, kissing the top of her head before falling into a restless sleep.
Hearing the alarm go off, he reaches back with the arm that was around his wife and hits the snooze button before snuggling back around her. Even though he's gotten the same amount of sleep he would have had any other night, he still feels as though he had just fallen asleep. He feels drained and wishes he could spend the rest of the day curled around his wife in bed instead of having to go to work, but he knows that even if he didn't have to go, that option wouldn't be possible right now.
After what seems like seconds later, his alarm goes off again and he peels himself away from his wife, knowing he has to get up if he wants to make it to work on time. He goes through his morning routine with mostly the same thoughts he had last night, but only this time he has some conclusions on where to go from here. He knows he can't wait another forty-eight hours for the weekend to start before he talks with his wife so, with it being only Thursday, he plans to take tomorrow off. He's not worried about canceling any of his classes, considering there's only two weeks left in the semester and they'd only be reviewing what they've learned these past few weeks. He wishes he could take today off too, but he knows that that's not feasible with the amount of time he has to prepare for the time off.
Walking into the kitchen to start his other morning routine, he eats a quick breakfast before pre-setting the coffee maker and taking the memo-pad and pen out of the drawer to write a note to his wife. He doesn't even have to think about what he wants to write to her as he quickly jots down the one thing that has been on his mind since the night before. After folding the note and setting it under her favorite coffee mug, where he leaves it every morning, he grabs everything he needs for work and heads out to his car.
She awakes to the muffled sound of her phone ringing somewhere in her bedroom and quickly jumps out of the bed to look for it, unable to remember where she had put it the night before. She's not completely coherent yet as she stumbles around the room before finally finding it in the shorts she had worn yesterday. Her phone stops ringing just before she has a chance to answer it, so she checks the call log and sees that it was her therapist's office calling, most likely reminding her of the appointment she has scheduled for tomorrow morning.
After checking her voicemail and confirming that it was just a reminder call, she notices the time and sees that it's already after ten in the morning. She can't believe that she had slept that long throughout the night without awakening once, and she knows it has everything to do with writing in her journal the night before. She doesn't feel a huge sense of relief or even happy that she's finally gotten to this point, just content and ready to start forgiving. She's still not looking forward to talking about everything with her therapist tomorrow, but she's hoping that it will help her better prepare for when she and her husband finally talk.
Making her way downstairs, she heads into the kitchen to plug in her phone and get herself some much needed caffeine. While sitting at the island, she sips on her coffee as she unfolds the note her husband had left her and begins to read, noticing it's different from any of the other notes he has left her.
Your laugh is the most beautiful sound I've ever heard.
I miss it.
I miss you.
As she wipes her tears away, she gets up from her seat and goes out into the garage to grab her purse she had left in the car the night before. When she comes back inside, she sets it on the counter and digs out the business card her therapist had given her weeks ago. After making the appointment with the marriage counselor, she finishes her coffee while thinking about what she had just done. Just the idea of seeing the counselor scares her, fearing that it could be what completely breaks them, but she knows the likelihood of that happening is far greater if they don't.
Once she's finished with her second cup of coffee, she heads upstairs to get dressed for the day, not bothering with a shower just yet. She still has to unload everything from the car and clean out the cooler that she hadn't bothered with the night before. Before she makes her way back downstairs, she remembers that she still hasn't taken her medication for the day and walks over to her nightstand where she keeps it in the drawer. Just as she approaches it, she notices that she had left her journal out and becomes frozen with the thought that her husband may have read it. Even with as much hurt as he has caused her, the last thing she would ever want to do is hurt him in return by him reading the words of hate she had written towards him out of anger. If he did read it, not even the fact that he did it without her permission would make her believe that he deserves to read those words about him from his wife.
She sits on the bed and, without taking her eyes off of the journal, tries to remember if that's how she had left it before she'd fallen asleep last night. But, from how tired she was when she had set it down, her memory is vague on any details. She thinks about the note he left her this morning, and can't decide if it's something he still would have written if he had seen her journal.
Unable to think about it any longer, she opens the drawer and takes out the medication she needs for the day and tosses it back in, along with her journal.
As she exits her bedroom, her son rushes past her towards his room, almost knocking her over.
"Sorry, mom! I'm late for work," he says hurriedly, as he closes the door behind him.
She had thought that's where he already was when she didn't see him this morning, which makes her ask through his door where he'd been.
After he swiftly opens the door, fully dressed in his work clothes, he starts to walk quickly towards the stairs as he tells her that he had stayed the night at his friend's and that he had let his dad know about it the night before.
She follows him down the stairs to give him a quick goodbye and, as she watches him leave, the only thought on her mind is that she's just glad that he didn't come home earlier to see her crying in the kitchen. She doesn't ever want her son to know about the problems that she and her husband are having. She fears that if he ever found out, it would not only hurt the good relationship he has with his father, but it would also crush him. They've always been really close and she would never want their problems to interfere with the bond that they share.
She spends the rest of the day keeping busy by cleaning the house, something she realizes she's been slacking on lately with the amount of dusting she has had to do, so that, by the time she's done, she barely has enough time to shower before getting started on dinner. Her husband had texted her earlier, letting her know that he'd be home around six and it's already 5:30.
As she cooks dinner, she starts to feel nervous as the time nears six o'clock. With her new revelation of sorts, it's left her feeling confused on how she should act around him until they have their talk. She doesn't want to blow him off like she's been doing, but she also doesn't want to give him the impression that everything's forgotten. Taking in a deep breath, and trying not to over-think it, she continues on with making dinner just as she hears the garage door opening.
Watching the garage door closing behind him from the rear-view mirror, he's hesitant to go inside the house right away. An illogical sense of guilt starts to overcome him as he thinks about walking through the door and watching his wife, who's most likely in the kitchen cooking him dinner, tense up at just the mere presence of him. It makes him even more impatient to have to wait until tomorrow to talk to her, but tonight doesn't seem like an option considering they'll be needing more than just a couple of hours to talk about everything.
Stepping out of the car, he grabs his things and heads on into the house and, just as he thought, his wife is in the kitchen cooking dinner and tenses as soon as he closes the door behind him.
Timidly walking the rest of the way into the kitchen, he greets her quietly, "Hey…"
As she stirs whatever she has in the pot, she replies, "Hey… I started on dinner a little a late, so it'll be about another twenty minutes before it's done."
He's a little shocked at the amount of words she had just spoken to him since she hasn't said more than a few in almost two weeks, causing him to pause for a moment before he can reply.
"That's okay… I have some work I need to finish anyway, so I'll just be in my office."
A twinge of sadness runs through her when she hears him say that, and all she can do is nod in response. For the past two weeks, he has at least asked her if she needed help with anything before he went off to watch television before dinner. But today, it seems, he's choosing to hide in his office like he's been doing for the past two years.
Leaving the door slightly open, he sits behind his desk with his laptop out as he finishes preparing for his day off by posting the announcement on the University's website forums. After posting it in both the student's and staff's forums, he writes a quick email to a student to reschedule the office hour they had scheduled for tomorrow. Once he's finished, he sits back in his chair, having nothing else to do, and turns on the digital picture frame his wife had given to him for his birthday a couple years back.
He watches the slideshow of pictures with a bittersweet sadness as moments from a happier time move across the screen; Family holidays, vacations… their son's basketball and baseball games… there are even a few from the surprise trip to Niagara Falls he had taken his wife on for their fifteenth wedding anniversary. She had always wanted to go there to see the falls, and even though she had spent most of the time behind her camera, they still had a great time. He's just hoping she'll give him the chance to do something like that for her again.
He's interrupted from his trip down memory lane when his wife softly knocks on the door and tells him that dinner's ready.
Just as he thinks he's about to eat dinner alone again, their son walks through the door and they end up taking their meals outside to eat as a family.
Their son starts the conversation off by talking about how unreasonable his boss was being towards him when he showed up for work twenty minutes late and how he had to stay an extra hour after work because they got real busy from the festival crowd. In the middle of his rant, though, he stops himself ,and with a look of confusion, asks his mom why she isn't at the festival.
After swallowing her food and taking a sip of her water, she answers him, "Today the park is reserved for all of the local middle school and high school kids' artwork. And tomorrow they're having arts and crafts all day for the smaller kids in the neighborhood. I thought about helping out with that, but I missed the sign up."
"Bet you're happy 'bout that dad!" their son says with a laugh, then continues in the same playful tone, "How many old ladies hit on you last night? I think I got my cheeks pinched at least four times while I was sittin' with mom."
Glancing up at his wife, who's sitting across from him, he sees that she's looking down at her plate with her fork stilled in her vegetables.
Looking back down at his food, he pushes it around with his fork as he responds quietly, "I, uh, didn't go."
He's hoping his son will just leave it alone, but he doesn't.
"What? You left before I did."
Before taking a bite of his food, with his eyes still on his plate, he says, "I couldn't find any parking, so I came back home."
"Told ya it was crazy down there," his son says with a shake of his head before eating the last bite of his food, completely unaware to how uncomfortable the atmosphere had just become.
He looks up at his wife as sees that's she's now sitting back in her chair, arms folded to her chest, with her head turned to the side looking out towards the lake.
She can feel his eyes on her, but she won't even allow herself to look at him from of the corner of her eye. She can tell that he's lying, and she hates that the first thought that comes to mind is wondering if he was with her. She's so lost in thought that she's startled when her son kisses her on the top of her head and tells her goodbye before letting them know he'll be home late.
After their son leaves, he starts to gather the dishes to bring them inside while taking quick glances at his wife's still-form. He has a feeling he knows exactly what she's thinking, and the guilt he feels for putting that doubt in her mind is enough to leave him almost breathless.
The last thing he wants is for his wife to believe for the rest of the night that he was with someone else, if that's what she's thinking. He's so tired of seeing her hurt and he knows that he needs to tell her the truth about where he was during the festival. He didn't want to have to do this tonight, but there's no way it can wait until tomorrow.
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RECOMMENDATIONS:
Avalanche by Rose Masen Cullen /s/6018011/1/
If This is Love by owenic /s/7045398/1/
Need a break from angst? You HAVE to go read Meet the Masen's by FictionFreak95, although I'm sure every single one of you is already reading it but I just thought I would stress it some more.. because.. well, it's fucking awesome. Go read it again. /s/6987169/1/
Thank you Crackylu, Beegirl13, and Rose Masen Cullen for helping out with this super tough chapter and Allison Cullen for beta'ing!
HUGE thanks to Jo aka FictionFreak95 for writing an unbelievably beautiful review for The Journal on The Lemonade Stand. . And, thanks to all that voted!
Also, I forgot on the last update to thank Mrs. White for her awesomely wonderful review for The Journal on the PIC FF Corner *facepalm*picffcornerDOTblogspotDOTcom / 2011 / 05 / mrs-white-talks-about-journal-with-msemDOThtml
(Both links to these awesome blogs are on my FF profile if you're not feeling up to removing spaces and replacing DOTs)