A/N: So…this went in a different direction than I thought it would. If you haven't read the previous chapter, please read it first! I posted it less than twenty-four hours ago.

Warning for language – I don't want this fic to become M.

Five words.

"But I'm not. I lied."

Round and round they tumbled in his brain.

She lied to him. His wife, Alice, lied.

They got married when he thought she was carrying their child. And she wasn't.

He felt sick.

"Charlie?" The door creaked open.

If she asks if I'm all right, I will explode.

Beryl stepped behind him where he was still seated on the floor. She reached down and put a hand in his hair. "I'm so sorry," she whispered.

He closed his eyes at his friend's touch. For a few seconds, he was furious with her (why did she forget about the letter, thirty years of my life gone to waste) before he came to his senses.

There was only one person to blame. And it wasn't his oldest friend.

She rubbed his head, a gesture he found rather comforting. But she couldn't soothe away the hurt.

"We were worried about you," she said. He suddenly remembered Thomas. "It's been almost an hour."

Odd. It felt like she'd only closed the door five minutes ago.

He wanted to speak, but could not seem to find the words. Until he thought of his mother. You've only got one life, son.

I'm glad she can't see me now.

All at once, his chest heaved, and he broke down and sobbed. Beryl put a hand on his shoulder. He leaned against her solid presence.

"Why?" he whimpered. "Oh God, why would she do that? It's my life-" he choked, wiping his face with his hand, "-my LIFE! I've been a damned idiot! And she didn't want to tell me because she thought she'd lose me!? WELL, SHE LOST ME A LONG TIME AGO! THAT BITCH!"

He screamed, jumping to his feet. Thomas raced into the room, his face pale and his eyes wide. Grabbing Beryl, he moved her slightly behind him. They could only watch.

"-A GODDAMN LIAR, SHE'S NEVER GIVEN A DAMN ABOUT ME, I WASTED MY LIFE FOR HER, THAT F-"

Beryl was certain she'd never seen Charles in such a towering rage. Thomas visibly flinched.

He scared them.

Pacing wildly, he didn't seem to notice. "-LIED ABOUT EVERYTHING, OUR WHOLE MARRIAGE WAS A TOTAL SHAM-"

"Should I do something?" Thomas half-whispered.

"There's nothing we can do," Beryl muttered. "Just wait it out."

But Charles's wrath seemed to be intensifying. He paced back and forth, waving his arms. Then he bent down and picked up an old commemorative plate, something that had been given to Ruby. He hurled it against the opposite wall.

It shattered instantly.

Neither of the two witnesses could see an opening to try and calm him. Beryl managed to grab the letter and envelope before she fled out the door, Thomas right behind her.

"I'm calling Mr. Napier," Beryl said as they ran to the kitchen. "This-" she held the offending paper between her finger and thumb, "is proof that Charlie's marriage is void. His attorney will need to know."

Ten minutes later, she hung up the phone with a sigh. "Well. He wants to see Charlie tomorrow, first thing."

"He's still…angry." Thomas raked a hand through his black hair. They heard something heavy thud against the wall. "What the hell? He's raging like a hurricane! This could go on for days!"

"I doubt it," Beryl winced as more epithets came screaming down the hallway. "But he's got thirty years of fury to vent." She let out a small chuckle. "At least he'll rid me of unwanted items in the process."

"I'm going to call John Bates," Thomas said resolutely, picking up the phone. "He'll calm him down, plus he'll have the best chance of surviving if Mr. Carson snaps and hits him."

"John isn't who Charlie needs right now. Or his attorney," Beryl murmured, half to herself. She looked up at the wall, at her favorite picture of The Red Fox. She stepped around the table. Thomas gaped at her.

"No. No. No, no, no, no, NO. Bloody hell, NO!" he shouted. He held the phone away from her as she reached for it. "Have you lost your mind!? You can't call Elsie! She's seven months pregnant, for God's sake!"

"You know I'm right," Beryl said softly. "She's the only person who can calm him down. If I can't-"

"I won't let you," Thomas said, his lips pressed in a thin line. "You were right earlier, we just need to wait. Or I-I'll go in there myself, try to reason with him." Beryl snorted. She grabbed for the phone again.

"Don't be ridiculous. You're a brave lad, but Charlie would regret it if he hurt himself, or someone else. Even you."

"All the more if he hurt Elsie. Or the baby!"

"He won't," Beryl succeeded in wrenching the phone from his hand. She turned away from Thomas as she dialed.

She hoped she was right.

000000000000

Elsie stumbled up the sidewalk to Beryl's front door. She was simply going to go in, but she stopped when she was several feet away.

Oh God, what happened?

She had never heard him say, much less scream, half of the words she could clearly hear outside. Beryl had told her he was extremely upset, but declined to give her more details.

"Upset"? That's like saying Cain was upset when he murdered Abel.

Beryl ushered her into the kitchen. Thomas leaned against the counter, his arms crossed. They explained the situation quickly, then Elsie read the letter.

For several moments, she wanted to fly into a rage. But her child chose that precise moment to give her a kick, which brought her back to reality.

She had to be strong for him.

"I'll go in front of you," Thomas said, seeing her touch her belly. "If he throws something, it'll hit me and not you."

Elsie nodded, tight-lipped. "How long has he-has he been like this?" Beryl looked at the clock.

"He's been using every curse word in the English language for over an hour and a half," she said.

"What!? I need to see him! Now," Elsie's heart constricted. "He might hurt himself-have a heart attack or something-"

Thomas saw her anguish and grabbed her hand. He lead her to the back bedroom, hesitated for a fraction of a second, and opened the door a few inches.

"GET OUT! GET THE F-"

Thomas took a deep breath and shoved the door with his shoulder.

"There's someone to see you, Mr. Carson."

She stared over Thomas's shoulder at him. He froze.

His face was red with anger, and with exertion. His chest rose and fell with every breath. There was a long scratch along the side of his face that bled, as if he'd scraped it with his fingernails. A small chunk of hair was missing above his ear. But it was the pain in his eyes that ripped her defenses down. Sadness, rage, betrayal, regret, loss.

Her heart broke, and tears came to her eyes.

"Oh, Charles," she whispered.

She gently pushed Thomas to one side. She held her lover's gaze for one beat. Then two.

His chin quivered.

With a sigh, he fell to his knees. She dashed forward and caught him, swaying slightly with the weight of him against her thickened waist. She kissed the top of his head.

Thomas closed the door quietly behind them.

TBC. Please don't kill me.