Thanks so much to everyone who took the time to read the last chapter and review!
It's not like they say, all those divorcees. Emma didn't walked down that God awful aisle in Vegas knowing she was making a mistake. Sure, it was Carl's idea, everything was, but she had gone into it with wide eyes. She knew what she was doing.
Her whole life she craved normality and predictability and made it her sole focus. Not an easy task when you have fire red hair and a compulsion to alphabetise your grocery list. She became a guidance councillor so she could spend her days ironing out people's kinks and for the most part, she was good at it and quite content until one day she woke up, thirty years old and unconditionally in love with a married man.
Who divorced his wife and kissed her and betrayed her, which deep down she had been expecting.
Marriage and intimacy were typical and normal and Carl worked late. She would be left alone to watch the nightly news in peace. She slipped the ring on Carl's finger and felt calm, a little less alone.
It was horrible telling Will when he had that look in his eye and all the dimples in his face went deeper and darker. She was a heartless monster. She wouldn't let herself linger on it too long though. Being normal and secure was worth it all, for the first time she was putting herself first and at last, getting what she wanted.
As Will walks into the staff lounge her insides ache and as he sits beside her with a half grin she knows she'll never ever be able to put her own feelings before his, she loves him that much, and she hates herself for it.
She cries before he even has the chance to speak and the voice in her head is full of disgust and self loathing at the weakness of her resolve, exhaustion creeps further into her.
He grabs her hand, avoiding the ring, and they walk while everyone watches, to his office where no one can see in. They lean in unison against his desk and she controls herself, manipulates her eyes until tears stop falling.
For the longest time no one speaks. After what might have been 20 minutes he moves to lock the door, not remembering where he is obligated to be besides in this room with her.
"You want to talk about it?" he says looking at same spot on the floor as her.
"I'm sorry everything got so messy Will. I didn't do it to hurt you"
"Do you love him?"
"Of course, he's my husband" her face is in her hands again.
"Don't say that like it means something Emma. It was a quickie wedding in Vegas!" At last he is angry and she feels fleeting relief.
"What do you want me to do Will? Agree with you? Yes, the ceremony was tacky and I wore a rented veil. Rented. That other people had worn" she yells too but even when she yells it's meek and threatening to no one.
"I just don't understand why"
"Because I can't do it anymore. Do you know how long I waited for you and preyed that you'd leave Terri? And everyday you didn't I went home heart broken"
"And now?"
"There'll always be something. I can't live my life waiting or fighting for you, always being insecure and jealous every time another woman looks at you. With Carl I am part of something that is stable Will, I don't have to worry every minute if he is happy with me"
"I was happy with you" he whispers turning and touching her cheek.
"This is not a conversation two friends should be having" flushed, she walks out to the click of her heels.
For three days she avoids him, or vice versa, she's not sure. At night in her home with Carl they cook dinner together, he rubs her feet and they watch 'Jeopardy' instead of WOHN because he knows all the answers.
On Friday she sneaks into Glee practice and later she will say she needed to chat to Artie. She doesn't. She adores him in the choir room, the way he stands tall and counters all their snide teenage remarks.
The kids file out, she can't help but think they despise her a little for breaking him, like she despises herself.
For once he looks at her like he used to and she reciprocates and when they are alone they chat and banter about Sue and she notices he's thinner than before. She tells him.
He grunts and looks down. She has ruined the moment.
On Tuesday morning when Carl is filling cavities, Will touches the back of her hand in the school yard. She doesn't flinch but keeps talking SAT prep. On Wednesday she visits his classroom with some attendance files and stays to help the special education kids up the back conjugate verbs, not because she speaks Spanish but because he asks her with that dimple in his chin.
It's Friday again when they grab a coffee after work and he remembers how she likes her tea.
He calls her on weekends when Carl playing golf to talk about Nationals, the set list. He thinks Bon Jovi. She thinks The Beatles. She tells him the kids couldn't ask for a better director and again he tells her he loves her.
After that, they stick to text messages so nothing will tumble regretfully out of their mouths.
HELP! We need costumes for nationals.
What's your budget?
Seriously?
Come over. I have ideas.
Carl?
No.
?
At conference in NC. Come over.
Now?
Yes.
It's late.
Please?
OK.