Chapter 13
The only sound in the study room was the ticking of the old grandfather clock, if one didn't count the sound of guilt and the utter misery rushing through his veins at the moment, thumping loudly in his ears. The sound was making him dizzy and unfocused. He wanted to get away, he needed to leave this house, everything around him felt suddenly suffocating, Ophelia's accusations, his mother's desperate pleas - now that she knew of his misdeeds, he could barely stand any of it.
God, what a pathetic fool he was.
His grandfather often told him that he was making life hard for himself.
And it was true, Gomez Addams was a master of making things difficult for himself, oftentimes completely unnecessary. His mother blamed this on his tempestuous Castillian soul. Gomez blamed it on himself.
His grandfather, who was more of a father figure to him than Colonel ever was or aspired to be, told him over and over again that he was too sensitive and too emotional, he cared too much and tried too hard and all that caused him almost endless heartbreak. He never disputed that. It was the truth. He was all that. If he could, he would change it in a heartbeat and he had tried to change but what a futile undertaking it was. He just couldn't help himself. His happiness was always radiant and vivacious, problems insurmountable and defeating and he could never contain it, neither his happiness nor his misery.
And so, his heart suffered deeply and often. He often wished - wished so ardently, to have something - someone, who would help him contain it, all those feelings that tended to accumulate and spill out in ferocious waves and he felt as if he could nothing by stand by and watch those waves - his actions, thoughtless, volatile and capricious, destroy and annihilate everything around him. Everyone around him.
He was always at fault. It was his fault that his brother was gone because his jealousy of Fester was too strong to see past it, to see reason, to be happy for that despicable, wonderful, monstrous creature that was his beloved brother. It was his fault that Ophelia was not happy, regardless of his infidelity, he couldn't make her happy because he never loved her and he never would.
She deserved better. Better than a cheat and a traitor to his brother and to his wife and he didn't have any right to make himself feel like a victim or feel sorry for himself but he just couldn't get the hurt out of his heart because, until now, he truly felt he tried, at least at the beginning, to make her happy. And now it seemed it was all for nothing. It seemed there was no point to try because it would never be enough. And it was his fault because everything he's ever done to make her happy lacked love and commitment and could never be anything more than a lukewarm attempt at making her happy.
It was all his fault and yet her words hurt him to the core. They made him feel worthless. It made him feel that the only way to be loved was to be what others expected him to be - carefree and vivacious, gregarious star of every party and the moment he allowed himself to be vulnerable, to show that he was more than that - or rather, less than that - that he felt things too strongly, that he longed to be loved deeply and eternally, that he was hopelessly romantic, that he constantly struggled - with himself, with guilt that was at times too overwhelming for him to cope - the moment he stupidly allowed those things to show, he was too much to handle, for anyone.
His eyes prickled with angry tears. His chest felt so constricted with misery, that it was difficult to breathe.
Maybe even Morticia thought she loved him, only because she didn't know what a horrible person he really was, because she didn't realise that he was exhausting to live with, and she was about to sacrifice herself for something she will soon deeply regret, and it would be his fault too. And it didn't matter that his very soul longed for her, longed to be everything for her. He could not possibly allow her to make such a commitment to him without knowing exactly what she was getting into.
"Going out again?"
"I am," he replied curtly, checking his pockets to make sure his wallet and cigars were there.
He felt exhausted, he simply had no energy to deal with whatever Harald Addams was about to throw at him.
"Where to?" His father asked as he slowly made his way into the study, his posture tense yet commanding as if he was reading for a battle. His cigar was resting lazily in between his fingers.
Gomez half-turned towards him, irritated.
"I think I'm past the age where I need to inform you of my whereabouts," he remarked sarcastically, trying to get past the older man but his father grabbed his arm before he could do so.
"It would perhaps be prudent to be more discreet," he hissed.
"About what?" He retorted in kind, snatching his arm from the ferocious grip.
"I am not stupid and neither is your mother, you - "
"Are you accusing me of something, Colonel?" He interjected angrily."Then say it. Say it to my face."
"I know -"
"You don't know a damn thing," he hissed.
"You're back to your old ways?" His father seethed."You're married now, have some bloody respect for that girl. Stop being a selfish bastard. Isn't it enough that you've ruined your brother's life, you have to ruin Ophelia's as well?"
He knew his father was right, he knew that on every possible level and with every particle of his soul but it was still too much, this whole evening was too much for him, too unbearable and he felt immediately defensive.
"Are you going to throw that to my face for the rest of my life?" He threw back."What do you want me to do? What the hell can I do for you to stop bringing this up every, single bloody time?"
"Be a man, God damn it," he spat furiously."Be a husband to your wife. Ophelia's thousand times better than whatever whore you're seeing -"
The surge of anger that went through him was so swift and violent he was barely aware of his own actions, his body seemed to be moving on its own accord, and his hands were suddenly fisted into the collar of his father's black shirt as he pushed him against the wall, his back connecting sharply with the old wood and the shock cause him to drop his cigar on the floor. He seemed so shocked by Gomez's actions that he didn't even try to defend himself.
It was hard to tell who was more shocked.
"I'm sorry," Gomez whispered, immediately releasing the hold on his father's shirt, he swallowed heavily, the anger that filled him dissipating as rapidly as it came. He felt suddenly more exhausted than he ever was, his throat constricted and he felt so embarrassingly close to tears it took all of his strength to keep them inside.
He watched his father place his palm on his shirt, right where Gomez's fists were clenched just a second ago and tried to smooth the smooth material back to its place. He swallowed, audibly and directed his gaze at Gomez again.
"Who is she?" Harald asked, his voice subdued now, resigned but angry still."The woman you want to ruin your life for, and everyone else's with it?"
And he replied, without hesitance, without an ounce of doubt, with all the conviction he ever felt.
"She's my life."
Morticia Frump was never plagued by insomnia, no matter what was going on in her life, but tonight the sleep just refused to come and so here she was, well past two o'clock in the middle of the night, on the living room sofa, with the only source of light provided by the faint streetlight reflected in the snow outside - it was snowing heavily tonight. She perched her feet against the coffee table, her fingers wrapped around a hot cup of henbane tea, graciously given to her by none other but Eudora Addams, and took a dainty sip, willing herself to relax enough to invite the sleep but alas, no such luck tonight.
What would the Addams matriarch think of her now? She doubted the older woman would be sharing a cup of tea and a friendly conversation with her ever again and, for some reason, the thought saddened her more than it should, this realization that her acquaintance with Mrs Addams would be one in the long line of causalities of her relationship with Gomez. She could not imagine Gomez's mother ever accepting her son's new romantic choices. And why would she?
She could not reasonably expect anyone to accept their relationships, perhaps not ever, not even her grandmother.
Morticia was almost certain that Granny suspected something was going on, that her offer of vacations abroad was primarily a way of removing Morticia from the company of Gomez Addams. Her grandmother suspected there was something going on but if she only knew the extent of what was actually going on, she'd know how futile her actions were. No distance, no matter how vast, would ever change her feeling about Gomez. Nothing would.
Still, she dreaded the thought of what Patricia's reaction to all this would be and she could not imagine not telling her, she could not imagine her grandmother finding out from someone else but her. She owed her at least that, her grandmother was a source of such immense love and support to her throughout her life it was almost indescribable and she didn't want her to find out about her and Gomez through a third party. She didn't expect her to be understanding or condoning, for that matter, but Morticia wanted her to know her version before it was twisted, as it will inevitably be.
How to tell her, thorough? How to tell her beloved grandmother that she fell in love with her sister's husband? That she indented to defy everyone and everything to be with him. What were the apt words to break someone's heart like this? To hurt a person who took over where her own mother failed, even though it never really filled the longing in Morticia's heart to have her mother take a more active part in her life but the only time Morticia could have her mother's undivided attention was when she royally messed up, when she scandalised the core of her mother's sensibilities, when she made it impossible for her mother not to react. It was a daft thing to do, but at the time, Morticia was almost desperate for any kind of motherly attention, anything that showed that her mother cared.
Nevertheless, she hated the thought of causing her mother pain that would be so irrevocable and final because, as emotionally unavailable as her mother was to her, Morticia still loved her, despite the fact that she never was a daughter her mother wanted her to be. She never understood exactly why her mother chose to focus her love and attention solely on Ophelia but Morticia stopped being resentful about it years ago. What she felt now was some kind of dull acceptance but she still dreaded causing her mother so much pain.
And she hated the thought of hurting Ophelia, no matter how precarious and how fragile their relationship was, but what were the options? Not telling her? Breaking up with Gomez, when the mere thought of it was unbearable to her? But was Debbie right? Was lying to her sister better than telling her the truth? The truth that will hurt her, humiliate her and ruin her marriage? Is it better to live a lie than face the painful reality?
Debbie was right, Morticia never involved herself with married men, never before that is, simply because of the fact that it wasn't difficult for her to put herself in the position of the woman who's been cheated on. It wasn't difficult to imagine the pain, the humiliation and the betrayal of it and she never wanted to be the cause of such pain, even indirectly. And yet, she was committed to going through with this because she loved Gomez more than she could put into words but it didn't mean that the betrayal of it, the guilt wasn't all but overwhelming. She and Ophelia never got along but that didn't mean, by default, that Morticia wanted to hurt her, that she wanted to cause her pain, far from that. The last thing she would choose for herself - for any of them - was to fall in love with her sister's husband but it felt as if she simply lost command of her feelings, from the moment their eyes met at the funeral, her very soul seemed damned and revived by him. It was almost indescribable how he made her feel, how much she loved him, how much she wanted him in every possible way.
God, what a mess.
There was a soft tap at the front door and she felt her stomach turn in apprehension, visitation in the middle of the night was never a good sign.
She swallowed heavily and put the teacup away on the coffee table. She slowly raised from the sofa, tightening the sash of her black, silk robe before quietly making her way to answer the door.
It took her only a brief peep through the judas-hole to undo the chains and open the door.
"Gomez," she greeted him cautiously, almost expecting some impending doom.
"It's late I know," he said quietly, apologetically, his gaze seemed unfocused and he swallowed heavily."I just…I was in the area."
She frowned at his words.
"At two o'clock at night?" She asked, moving away from the door to let him inside but he didn't move.
"I know...it's late, I know - I just…," he looked away and swallowed audibly again."I needed to see you."
"Darling, what's wrong?" She whispered and he instantly loved the soft concern laced into her voice.
It just made him feel so good, knowing that she cared, and he longed for the scrapes of her affection almost violently.
"Nothing," he assured, his voice hoarse."Nothing, I just needed to see you. I… really needed to see you."
She looked at him closer then and became instantly aware of the haunted look on his face. She reached for the lapel of his suit jacket and pulled him further inside, promptly yet silently closing the door behind him.
"Debbie is asleep," she informed him in a whisper." Don't wake her up, she had work early in the morning - she'll be homicidal. Is your car outside?"
"No, I walked."
"You… walked?" She clarified in disbelief. "All the way from the Manor?"
He nodded, only then realizing that he wasn't wearing a coat and his suit was wet with melted snow. And he was freezing cold and his fingers felt numb.
"In the snowstorm?"
He nodded again.
"It wasn't snowing all that much yet when I left…I think."
"You," she said affectionately, placing a soft kiss on his cold lips, and shook her head."Are one mad Castilian, do you know that? Come, before you get hypothermia and catch pneumonia in my hall."
The hot water made him feel better but almost lethargic, he didn't realize how cold he was or how wet his clothes were from the snow until Morticia all but ordered him to strip and get inside the bathtub, filled with hot, steaming fragrant water.
"Scoot," she said, twisting her long hair on the top of her head, before sliding a few pins to keep it in place.
He smiled and moved forward in the hot, soapy water so she could slide behind him into the bathtub, her long legs at each side of him as slipped her arms around his middle and placed a soft kiss on the back of his neck, eliciting another smile from him.
God, it felt good to feel her arms around him, just to see her made him feel instantly better.
Morticia grabbed the sponge and immersed it in the fragrant water before squeezing it gently over his tense shoulders, repeating the process couple of times while silently assessing how to approach the conversation.
She couldn't possibly leave the fact of Gomez Addams showing at her doorstep at two o'clock at night with such a desperate, defeated look in his eyes, undiscussed. Something must have happened for him to walk - walk! for hours in the cold and snow, barely dressed for such conditions, because even her mad Castillian had enough common sense to know how daft of an idea it was.
She had never seen him so heartbreakingly sad and she had an immediate urge to comfort him, to fix whatever was plaguing his heart, to tell him it will be all right in the end. Even though she didn't know what was actually bothering him. Well, considering their situations, she could hazard quite a few, educated guesses.
"Gomez," she whispered, so quietly she was surprised he'd heard her."Do you want to talk about it?"
She could feel him tense in her arms almost immediately, so she wrapped her arms around him tighter, and placed another soft kiss on his shoulder, it seemed to relax him, if only fractionally.
"I never want to talk about it," he replied solemnly, swallowing heavily.
"Do you need to talk about it?" She amended.
He didn't reply, mutely reaching for the palm of her hand and wrapped his wingers around hers.
He had to tell her but how? How? What words were suitable for such confession? How to tell her what a traitor he was? What would she think of him? And yet, it was unthinkable to ask for such an enormous commitment to him if she didn't know exactly what kind of man he really was.
"I have seduced my brother's fiancees," he finally said, focusing his gaze on the burning candle at the edge of the bathtub, his words seemed constricted, almost choking him but he forced himself to continue."I wooed them and he found out and run away. We've never heard from him since. He took off to Bermuda Triangle or devils knows where and my father works very hard to constantly remind me what a despicable bastard I am," he paused, swallowing heavily, his voice barely a hoarse whisper, "and he's right."
She didn't say anything, not immediately, and he felt her move the bath sponge in between his shoulder blades.
"Did you love them?"She asked finally.
"No," he replied immediately, without hesitation.
He didn't love them, he didn't even care about them.
"Why then?" She whispered.
"Because I'm a despicable cad," he told her curtly, bitterness seeping into every word."Stupid, jealous, despicable bastard. He was everything I was not and I wanted to hurt him, I wanted him to suffer and I have accomplished that task quite masterly."
"But you regret it," she pointed out, keeping her voice soft and even.
He nodded.
"With every fibre of my being," he breathed out.
She wrapped her arms around him tighter, pressing the side of her face to his.
"What you did to your brother," she said slowly."Isn't any worse than what I'm doing now."
He blinked and turned sharply towards her, splashing some water on the floor, startled by the comparison, her words seemed to him absurd, as if such a thing - equating her actions with his, never crossed his mind and it was, to him, simply unthinkable that she would ever think that.
"No, Tish, what I've done, I've done out of spite," he contradicted."Out of jealousy. I didn't care about them. You're not doing it because you want to hurt her but that's why I did it - to hurt him."
"I don't think anyone will appreciate those subtle differences," she pointed out gently, but at the same time quite touched by his defence of her, misplaced as it was."I do it because I love you but the end result will be the same. She will be hurt. A lot of people will be hurt."
"I know," he said, his voice barely a whisper."But you're not like me, you're so much better, Tish.
She shook her head in denial, but allowed a small smile to form on her lips before framing his face with her hands and leaned to kiss him.
"It's going to get worse than this…," she continued hesitantly. "When we tell them, it's going to get much worse."
He realized, with a sinking feeling, that she was trying to give him a way out. That if he wanted to change his mind, she understood. She understood if it was too much for him to handle and he hated it.
He hated himself that he made her think, even for a second, that he was having second thoughts about this - about her, when it's her that should be in two minds about him.
"I will do anything to be with you, don't ever doubt that. I love you, Morticia," he promised, placing a firm kiss on her palm, and then pressing his lips against hers firmly, desperately, curling his fingers behind her neck."I was never so sure of anything in my entire life except that I wish to spend the rest of my life with you. I'd do anything for you."
She smiled gently, clearly pleased and relieved by his words and he felt relieved too, relieved that she knew and there were no more secrets between them.
"I love you," she assured him, curling her fingers at the back of his neck. "And I trust you. I don't… regret this, I don't regret you but…," she paused, drawing her bottom lips in between her teeth briefly before admitting," but I'm scared, too. I'm really scared if we can handle this. Or if it will break us."
"There's nothing more terrifying to me than living my life without you," he said instead. Simply and honestly, because the only guarantee he could offer to her was his love for her.
"Yes, that too," she nodded, pressing her forehead against his."I wish things could be different…simpler. I wish we could just be together, love each other without hurting anyone in the process."
"In the ideal world," he whispered, brushing his lips gently against her cheekbone."We would meet at that funeral and I would drop on my knees there and then, and propose to you the very night."
"Well, that's just highly inappropriate," she chuckled, a little breathlessly.
"We would have married as soon as possible," he continued insistently, gazing at her with such tenderness and devotion she could barely stand it."And I would give you the world. And I would love you and worship you every day for the rest of my life. "
She smiled at him.
"I don't want the world," she said, caressing his bottom lip with her thumb."I just want you, you are my world."
His heart skipped a beat then and he leaned to kiss her, desperately and relentlessly, because at this moment he could not possibly express in words what it meant to him to hear her say all that. Words seemed partly to adequately express what she meant to him.
"Let's go to bed," she whispered in between the kisses."You will need to work extra hard to make up for interrupting my beauty sleep."
"We don't need a bed for that," he supplied cheekily, promptly wrapping his arms around her, causing the water to splash on the bathroom floor, and claimed her lips into a ravenous kiss.
"Gomez, you will flood the bathroom - " she tried to reprimand, but failed miserably, succumbing to his caresses.
"I will clean up afterwards," he promised in the midst of placing delightful kisses along her collar bone.
"I will make certain you will," she deadpanned.
He paused his kisses, lifting his head slightly to look at her.
"What would you have said if I proposed to you at the funeral?" He asked suddenly and smiled when she let out an amused laugh.
"In the ideal world?" She repeated teasingly, smiling at him indulgently and placed her hands on his arms.
"Yes," he nodded, tightening his embrace, resting his palms against the smooth skin of her back.
She looked at him tenderly.
"Oh, Gomez," she let out an exaggerated sigh." I think…," she paused, framing his face in between her hands before placing a small, soft kiss on his lips."I think I would have followed you to the gates of hell and back even then."
Ophelia Addams woke up to the empty space next to her and couldn't help but sigh in annoyance, it was untouched. He didn't spend the night here, probably making a great spectacle of himself and sleeping ostentatiously on the sofa in the library or wherever.
Perhaps she was a little too harsh with him yesterday but, good Lord, he really was getting on her nerves. He needed to grow some balls, man up or whatever one called it, he had to stop being such a drama queen. God, and her grandmother thought that Ophelia was spoiled, if she was indeed, then Gomez Addams was a whole new level of spoiled. What did he expect of her really, to cater to that insane behaviour of his? To sacrifice herself and her needs so he could moan about his brother gone missing? Fat chance.
She could not, for the life of her, understand why he was making such a big deal of some stupid spat with his brother that happened over ten years ago. They all acted as if it was some unspeakable tragedy when, in Ophelia's opinion, Gomez behaved no worse than many rich, entitled twats she knew and his brother, whatever his name was, overreacted. Oh, so it turned out that his fiancee was a little slut who thought she could hit two birds with one stone, too bad, so sad. Surely, if he thought about it, he should be glad not to marry her, so this was a non-problem. They all needed to get the fuck over it and fast because Ophelia's patience was running low.
Who the hell raised a man to be such an emotional wimp, anyway? Why couldn't he just suck it up, just like everyone else? Everyone had family problems. Her own family was one big fucking joke but did she bother him with it? No. Gomez was so enamoured with her father, thinking he was some God-sent patriarch of the family, caring and indulging but if he only knew what a cold-hearted bastard James Frump could be, perhaps he would start appreciating his own father more. Maybe Colonel wasn't all lovey-dovey but at least he wasn't a liar, he was honest and he cared.
Ugh, anyway. She really didn't have time to lay down in bed and think about this shit. She had a busy day ahead of her and oh, she could not believe the nerve of that damn Hornby woman to call her and offer her help with the preparations, practically 48 hours before the ball. She politely thanked her for her kindness and sweetly declined her generous offer. Drop dead, bitch, that's what she really wished to tell her.
Ophelia groaned out loud, stretching her arms above her head, she really needed to make a move, she had things to do, better things than contemplating her husband's stupid behaviour and, besides, Vanessa was right, they would soon be moving out of that condemned manor to their beautiful new mansion in the suburbs, over 13 acres of land and 12,000 feet square of interior space, over 13 million dollars well spent - private gym, tennis court, her own swimming pool and the golf club practically adjacent to their property. This was her dream, and this was where she belonged. Things would soon get back to normal. She had no doubt about it. No more running, decapitated hands, no more brain-dead zombie butlers, no more crumbling ceilings or senile mother-in-law.
Life was good.
There were far too many perks of being Mrs Addams and she had no intention of ever giving that up, as long as she gave Gomez a few little tweaks because… really. One needed a patient of a saint to deal with him and Ophelia Addams was many things, many, many things but a saint she was fucking not.
He had no idea what time it was but it must have been early because the sun was yet to raise. Despite the fact that the night did not consist of much sleeping, he felt pleasantly refreshed, even though he was already awake for some time, languidly weaving his fingers through Morticia's long hair, mindful of waking her up. God, he loved her hair, loved how silky soft they were, their scent - they always smelled like roses and bitter almonds which he found absolutely bewitching.
He found it a bit bizarre how he found himself on her doorstep in the middle of the night because it truly wasn't his plan to come here. He wasn't at a good pace yesterday and he certainly didn't want to bother her with it, all he planned - well, he didn't plan anything, he simply needed to clear his head, and the next thing he knew he knew he was at her doorstep.
And now she knew, she knew what a pathetic creature he really was, how stupidly vulnerable. Would she still think he was worth all the sacrifice? Or maybe once she looked at it, cooly and logically, she would decide to bow out gracefully of this arrangement - this arrangement that was too much, too dangerous, too much of a risk, maybe she would decide he was not worth it.
Hell and damnation, he wished his mind wouldn't immediately go to the darkest scenarios, especially when there were exactly nil indications of Morticia giving up on him. Quite the contrary.
Except -
Except, shut up, he told himself.
He should make himself useful, instead of lying down in the bed, next to the love of his life, conjuring the most depressing scenarios. He could, for example, wake her up in the most delicious of ways but, come to think of it, they both went to sleep in the early hours of the morning, so maybe it would be better if he allowed her a few more hours of slumber before waking her up in the most delicious of ways.
He could, instead, see about breakfast. Yes, there was an idea not without merit. Especially, when a homicidal maniac who was very inclined to beat the hell out of him with a baseball bat was sleeping in the next bedroom.
It certainly wouldn't hurt to do some sucking up.
He was certainly pushing his luck, or - more accurately, he was asking for a death wish but he just couldn't help himself when a very tired and annoyed-looking Debbie Jellinsky, wearing a pink, tight dress with a neckline almost down to her navel, stopped dead in her track at the sight of him and he deliberately stretched his lips in the most obnoxious grin in his repertoire.
"Good morning," he greeted the blond woman cheerfully. "Nice to see you without a baseball bat in your hand and a murderous gleam in your eyes."
She didn't even have the good grace to look contrite or even mildly apologetic.
"It's too early in the day for murderous gleam," she replied, letting out a tired yawn." And sorry about that," she remarked, sounding very much not sorry at all." I get a bit emotional when my friend's idiot lover is trying to ruin her life. It's healing nicely, by the way. Also, I'm pretty sure you were not here when I went to bed."
"I wasn't," he agreed, picking the coffee pot up from the stove.
"You two morons are doing this adultering thing all wrong," she remarked casually, taking her seat at the breakfast table and proceeding to inspect her long, cotton-pink nails.
"Everyone's a critic," he deadpanned."Coffee?"
She turned towards him sharply, her demeanour softening instantly.
"Jesus Christ, yes please," she agreed readily, practically snatching the cup of hot black treasure from him before he even finished pouring, never mind putting it on the table. She took a sip and murmured contentedly.
"I got some fresh croissants as well," he told her, pointing to the fresh pastry he set up on the table. Yes, blatantly sucking up to her." And some brioche rolls, chocolate chip muffins, take your pick."
"Oh, bless your little, tender heart," she replied dryly, already tearing the chocolate muffin and popping it in her mouth."God, that's so good. We're hopeless with grocery shopping."
"So I noticed," he chuckled, taking a seat in front of her.
"Oh, please," the velvet voice interjected and Morticia appeared in the kitchen, still in her nightgown, the black robe wrapped around her and her hair still damp from the shower. "This privileged, rich male specimen has never been to a grocery shop in his life," she proclaimed teasingly as she passed behind him, to brew her morning tea.
"I very much have," he insisted, grinning at her.
"Liar. You'd get lost between the aisles," she teased, smiling back at him as she rinsed the teapot with the hot water before putting the tea leaves inside. "I bet you bought those coffee beans from the cafe down the road."
He laughed then, gregariously, tilting his head back.
"Guilty as charged," he admitted.
"Doesn't change the fact that the only thing that gets proper meals in here is your African Strangler," Debbie pointed out, wolfing down the pastries as if her life depended on it.
"That is such a travesty," Morticia insisted, opening the fridge and taking out the fresh burger for Cleopatra before putting the pan on the stove to fry it.
"See?" Debbie said, pointing at Morticia with an open palm.
"What?" Morticia asked, pressing the burger into the hot pan where it sizzled furiously."It's an African Strangler, she has to eat."
"And we don't?"
"I am not going to even grace it with a reply," Morticia decided, turning the burger on the other side, frying it for exactly three minutes before plating it on a porcelain plate and proceeded to feed Cleopatra."Here you go, my darling, don't gulp."
Debbie shook her head in half-hearted exasperation.
"This damn plant is living her best life while I gotta go to work," she declared morosely, rising from her seat and gulping the rest of her coffee before addressing the two other people in the room sternly," please do not fuck on the kitchen table while I'm away. We eat here… occasionally."
"I will keep that in mind," Gomez replied in a deadpan manner.
Morticia gasped sharply, turning towards him.
"Why darling, don't let her bully you like that," she said in faux outrage.
"I still have the baseball bat," Debbie smiled sweetly at Gomez. "You've been warned. Feel free to organise some dinner later as well."
Apparently, Debbie did not expect a reply because she shut the door behind her before any of them could blink, let alone offer her a reply.
Morticia finished feeding Cleopatra, caressing her soft leaves before sitting down at the table next to Gomez.
"I'm hazarding a guess that Debbie is responsible for that gush on your head?" Morticia asked, pouring herself some tea.
"She whacked me with a baseball bat," he replied lightly, taking a hearty sip of his black coffee.
"Oh," Morticia winced, putting the teapot away, clearly not surprised by her friend's behaviour."Sorry about that, she's not very into the whole idea of going public with this affair."
"So I gathered," he replied, chewing on his lip somewhat apprehensively.."She's worried and she's looking after you, it's a good thing."
Morticia smiled at him.
"Debbie likes you."
He couldn't help but laugh at her assessment.
"I beg to differ."
"She's buried three husbands," she told him, her lips curling into an amused smirk."If she wanted you dead, you wouldn't be sitting here with me, they'd be scooping up your remains off the wall."
He grinned and nodded appreciatively.
"My brother would marry her on the spot," he remarked fondly.
"He would be marrying his death wish," she smiled."There would be constant attempts on his life."
"Oh, he would love that," he said, in an amused wistful tone, but the amusement was short-lived, and his gaze became instantly subdued."My parents know."
She seemed to freeze in mid-movement, the porcelain tea cup stopping just before touching her lips. She didn't say anything immediately but set the teacup gently back on its saucer.
"About us?" She asked finally.
"Not about us per se," he shook his head."They just know. They know there's someone."
"I see," she remarked softly, drawing her bottom lips in between her teeth."How did they find out?"
He shrugged.
"I wasn't careful enough," he told her, and then shrugged enough."It's not just that, I was… I don't have the most stellar reputation with women. Maybe they always expected it, I don't know… I think it wasn't all that hard for them to put two and two together."
She nodded, mutely acknowledging his words. It wasn't ideal but it was bound to happen at some point. Soon, actually. It would be better if they told them in person but alas. It was what it was. Besides, perhaps it wouldn't be better at all. Perhaps better didn't even apply here.
"And Ophelia?" She asked after a while, a little anxiously.
"She doesn't know, yet," he replied quietly." I wanted her to know first, before everyone else, because it's just not fair but… we've argued yesterday, she said…," he paused and shook his head." It doesn't matter what she said, she was right - she was right in everything she said but - I got upset, and I just…" he swallowed heavily, looking away from her briefly."I'm sorry, about last night. I know I shouldn't have come -"
She shook her head, stopping him from continuing any further.
"I'm glad you did," she assured him."I'm glad you've told me."
He smiled at her gratefully and then bit his lips into a thin line, contemplating his next words.
"I do… struggle with this," he told her heavily."A lot. You need to know that."
Why was it so easy to share this with her, to allow himself to be vulnerable, to say the words that wouldn't otherwise pass his lips, no matter how painful the outcome might be.
"I struggle," he said again, slowly, choosing his words carefully."And I need you to know that before we… before you make a commitment to me. I can be… too much sometimes and I will understand if… this is not what you want."
He will understand, he will also die and perish without her, of that he had no doubts.
"I appreciate the offer," she retorted smoothly."But I'm pretty sure I know exactly what I want."
"You do?"He whispered, swallowing audibly.
She nodded.
"I love you," she whispered wrapping her hand around his."All of you, exactly the way you are."
"Jealous, pathetic scoundrel and all?" He asked hoarsely.
"Yes, all that and more," she smiled, straddling his thighs and wrapped her arms around his neck. She looked at him intently." Gomez I… I don't expect it to be all lovely thorns and singing vultures, that would be unrealistic… but I do love you and I'm not going anywhere," she promised." I want to be there for you when you're at your most vulnerable. It's…okay to struggle," she whispered, resting her forehead against his."We'll deal with it, but we'll deal with it together. This - us, it's forever, don't ever doubt that."
He nodded mutely, there were no words to sufficiently convey how ridiculously grateful he was for her. She couldn't possibly know what it meant to him to have his pain acknowledged and validated despite the fact that he was in the wrong.
"Thank you," he managed to breathe out, pressing his palms into the curve of her hips.
"And to somewhat diffuse this emotionally charged moment, we should, most definitely, have sex on the kitchen table," she murmured in a deadpan manner, slowly undoing the sash of her robe and allowed it to slide off her arms.
"I wholeheartedly support this idea," he moaned, claiming her lips in a firm, ravenous kiss, then watched, mesmerised, as her lips curled into a purposeful smile and she slowly sank to her knees before him but before Morticia even managed to put her hands on him, the front door opened swiftly and one, very annoyed looking Debbie Jellinsky barged in.
"Damn it, I forgot my purse, I was literally…what the f… -" she paused and her expression darkened as she took in the sight before her." I was gone for two minutes," she exclaimed in outrage.
"Five minutes," Gomez corrected dryly and, unsurprisingly, was rewarded with a murderous glare.
"I dropped my earrings," Morticia replied without missing the beat in a tone smooth like a summer breeze.
"You're not wearing any earrings," Debbie pointed out.
"Yes…, " Morticia agreed slowly. "Because I dropped them," she insisted, but her friend only rolled her eyes and exhaled in dismay.
"You're despicable, both of you," she threw, before slamming the door behind her.
"Now," Morticia purred, turning her attention back to Gomez."Where were we?"
The restaurant was the most peculiar place Patricia Frump had ever had occasion to dine in and, indeed, she'd have expected nothing less from her companion, for Eudora Addams was rather peculiar herself. Fascinating, but peculiar nonetheless.
The place was lavishly decorated, with heavy chandeliers, and gold and emerald ribbons hung from the ceiling heavily, a startling contrast to the weaponry displayed on the walls, illuminated by the array of candelabras. The guest themselves seemed to be as peculiar as the place itself.
"This is an interesting place," Patricia remarked politely as they were seated at their table."I don't believe I've been here before."
"You probably haven't," Eudora smiled. "It's one of those if you know, you know places."
Patricia chuckled in amusement.
"Indeed," she smiled, surveying the menu card."Anything exciting on the menu?"
"Have you ever tried a roasted alligator?" Eudora asked.
"I can't say I have," Patricia replied, smiling at the younger woman." I do hope you won't find me rude or ungrateful," she remarked casually, or as casually as she could in the face of what she suspected this lunch date was truly about." But I was never one for small talk, so if you don't mind me asking, is there any particular reason for this impromptu invitation?"
Eudora held her gaze and then swallowed heavily before nodding at her somberly.
"I need your help."
He didn't know if it was a good sign that the house seemed so empty. It felt ominous. It felt like a relief too.
The charity auction was tomorrow but he couldn't imagine staying in this house, let alone sharing a bed with Ophelia. He wasn't that big of a bastard. He would just grab some clothes and spend the night at the apartment and tomorrow he would tell Ophelia everything.
Tomorrow. After the charity ball, or as soon as possible after that.
He didn't know why he chose to tell her after the ball, to allow these few hours of respite before turning their lives upside down. It seemed like the last, kind, decent or charitable thing to do, allow her to focus on the preparations, what absurd. What difference did it make, really? There would never be a 'good' moment to tell her.
There was no good way about any of it.
God, he wished, cowardly, for Ophelia to find out on her won, that she'd caught them in the act and in some absurdly theatrical moment the truth would be out and he wouldn't have to have this conversation with her.
"You're overdoing your little drama, don't you think?" She told him in a manner of greeting the moment he stepped through the door to their bedroom.
She was in the midst of packing her gym bag, already dressed in her workout clothes.
"They delivered your tuxedo this morning," she said, barely looking at him." I'm going to the gym, and then I need to go to Vanessa, she's doing my hair and makeup for tomorrow because my hairdresser caught some bloody flu - what timing, I swear to God, sometimes I can't cope with the utter incompetence of some people. Anyway, I hope by the time I come back you'll be done with your little mental breakdown because I really don't have the time for this. I don't want any drama at tomorrow's event."
It wouldn't matter, he realised, it really wouldn't matter even if he weren't madly in love with Morticia. That it was just a matter of time before this marriage would crumble, that they were making each other miserable, they couldn't give each other what they wanted, they couldn't make each other happy. They never could.
"You have every right to be angry with me," he started slowly, gently closing the door behind him. He didn't what to tell her but this, at least, was the truth.
He was a horrible husband to her. An awful, cheating coward and there will never be words sufficient enough to say how sorry he was.
And he was sorry.
"Damn right I do," she retorted coldly, turning sharply towards him."I'm not one of those cheap floozies you used to hang around with. I'm your wife, I deserve better than this."
"You're right," he nodded, swallowing."You deserve better, better than me."
She rolled her eyes.
"Oh, don't start with the drama, please."
"I'm really very sorry, Ophelia," he continued and tried not to wince at the sound of his own words. "It was never my intention to hurt you and I should have been honest with you… from the start."
"What the hell are you talking about?" She threw impatiently."You're rambling nonsense again."
"I should have told you about my brother before we married," he explained, approaching her slowly."I wasn't honest with you. You should have known before - "
"Gomez," she sighed, tilting her head with exasperation."Your brother is not the issue here, I couldn't care less about that. I truly don't understand why are you so bothered by something you've done when you were eighteen. We've all done stupid things at that age."
"It wasn't just a stupid thing - "
"Oh, for God's sake, here we go again," she exhaled in frustration as if he was some particularly obtuse child. "It's you and your imagined problems again. I really can't stand listening to this shit a moment longer, I mean honestly - "
"There is someone else," he blurted out and immediately wanted to take it back but it was too late.
And how awfully cliche it sounded, how generic, as if taken from some tacky romance novel but what else could he say to her. How else could he explain?
She laughed in amused disbelief and shook her head.
"I'm sorry, what?" She asked.
He could barely stand her gaze, his heart was slamming against his chest, his palms were sweaty with apprehension, and he felt simultaneously hot and cold.
"You were right…when you asked…when you suspected," he faltered and looked away, ashamed.
He could not do it, he couldn't tell her, but it was too late to back out.
"I shut you down, I lied to you, and I'm so sorry," he confessed rapidly, his words slamming together, stumbling over each other.
He hated the sound of those words, he wished to take them back and redress them, make them more appropriate, make them sound nicer, make them hurt less but it was too late.
"What do you mean there's someone else," she echoed, shaking her head at him." We've been married for six months, how can you even… you're not serious, you can't be serious," she paused and exhaled heavily. "Is this some kind of a sick joke? Are you trying to me mean… this is so fucking immature, Gomez - "
"I'm sorry-"
She started at him for what seemed to him like an eternity and he bore her gaze steadily, even though, the need to look away was almost overwhelming.
"I'm so sorry," he said again, just to break the silence because he couldn't stand this suffocating silence a second longer.
"Oh, my God," she whispered to herself, covering her eyes with the palms of her hands." This isn't happening."
"I'm so sorry -" he repeated, desperately, stupidly, because nothing else came to mind because telling her was a thousand times worse than he imagined.
Her shock, her hurt and her denial were harder to stomach than he anticipated.
"Sorry?" She echoed in disbelief." You're sorry? You… bastard."
He shifted uncomfortably.
"I don't want to fight you," he told her." I don't want to make it any more difficult than it is…I'm so sorry. It's my fault, all of this… nothing here is your fault, you've done nothing wrong, it's me…it's always been me," he said breathlessly and paused, running his hand through his pomaded hair in an abrupt, desperate manner.
God, he couldn't stand her look, he couldn't bear her pain. And he was so sorry. So so sorry but what was his sorry worth really? Nothing. It was worthless.
"Whatever you want in the settlement is yours, I won't fight you," he promised, his words spilling out haphazardly, desperately."I will give you anything you want."
She faltered, as of suddenly frozen with silent rage.
"Wait," she laughed in disbelief."What are you telling me exactly… you want - you want to leave me?"
"Ophelia -"
"No," she shook her head."You're mad, you're fucking mad if you think… even for a second, that you can leave me for some shameless whore. You will not, you will not do this to me, I won't be humiliated like this."
"Ophelia -"
"We are not going to divorce, you bastard, do you hear me?" She replied, puncturing each word with a firm punch of her fisted palm against his chest and he allowed her, barely budging against the impact ."I don't care who you're fucking behind my back, we are not getting a divorce."
He didn't dare to touch her, didn't know what to say so he just stood there passively, allowing her to lash out at him.
"No," she hissed, shaking her head furiously."This isn't happening, I don't care…just - no, I'm not accepting this. You can't do this to me -"
"I know you're upset - "
"Don't patronise me, you cheating bastard," she retorted angrily, hitting him again on the chest with a closed fist and then shoved him away, even though he made no attempt to touch her."I don't care who's the whore that's spreading her legs for you, you will not humiliate me."
He had no words, his mind was suddenly entirely devoid of any response, all he was able to do was to stand there and take it.
"I'm going to go to the gym now and it is in your best interest to be here when I come back," she told him in a low, angry whisper.
"Ophelia - "
"This didn't happen, do you understand?" She hissed, shaking her head at him."This never happened. You will not… I will not allow this, you will not do this to me."
He watched, helplessly, as she gathered her car keys and made her way out of the bedroom and down the stairs.
"You shouldn't drive now, you're too upset," he told her, following her, trying to stop her."Don't drive. Please."
"Don't talk to me," she hissed, rapidly putting her coat on."Just… shut up. Shut the fuck up."
He watched her open the door swiftly and leave, slamming the door behind her so hard he was surprised they were still attached to its hinges.
He looked down where Thing tapped apprehensively on his shoe.
"No, old man," he whispered, swallowing heavily because it was becoming very clear that whatever he imagined this situation to be was becoming far more difficult than he - than they could have ever anticipated."Nothing is alright."
A/N: Thank you for reading! Hope you guys enjoyed the clandestine affair while it lasted because we're really hitting it with the drama now. xoxoxo
