Chapter 7
Seth woke up late the next morning, the daylight coming through the blinds, a hangover of mammoth proportions already pounding away in his brain. It took a moment for him to remember the details of the day before, especially as he realized he was in the bedroom of his apartment and not at home with Jessica.
As soon as he thought of Jessica though, every detail poured into his mind, crashing over him, causing his heart to race, and breathing to become shallow as it was a physical pain that he experienced thinking of how she had betrayed him.
Oh, he had listened to her last night. He knew her reasons for the deception she had contrived, and he was mature enough to understand that if the shoe was on the other foot, he might have done the same thing. Being a man and an old-fashioned one at that, he believed taking care of his woman was the right thing to do. It was disheartening to know that he would never be able to do that with Jessica. At least never financially. He knew she did not care, and he knew that life was short, but he had his pride.
That pride of his had suffered terribly when Ruth died and he could barely make ends meet. He was a medical doctor. Most people in this country thought that automatically made a person rich. Maybe in the big city hospitals or in certain specialities such as neurosurgery, but as a general practitioner in small town America, he was no different than many other professions. He made enough to live, but when tragedy strikes like it did when Ruth died, there was barely enough to go around. He had struggled for years to get back on his feet, but he had, and he had felt proud of himself for doing so, without changing the way he practiced medicine. He charged for his services, but only what people could afford. If they didn't have insurance, he would often charge the value of a copay and looked the other way when they tried to offer anything more.
The last couple of years he had finally turned a corner, getting out of debt, and making some small retirement plans. He had rented for years and he didn't mind it. It was a fair price, and it was convenient having both his office and his living quarters under the same roof. Recently in the last few years, but well before becoming romantically involved with Jessica last year, he had begun to hope that he could buy a small cabin somewhere in a rural area once he retired, close to a fishing lake or state park. He had daydreamed about asking Jessica to live with him there, perhaps going back and forth between his and her place, if he could ever get the courage to tell her how he felt. He knew that even if he could afford something, at best, it would be a one- or two-bedroom, one bathroom, probably no more than a thousand square feet. He knew it would never be up to her standards, but she might humor him. At least in that way, he could provide some of their living expenses in his fantasy.
Even if they never married, he needed to be her equal. Her partner. Without feeling like he was a deadweight that she was responsible to care for.
He scoffed at himself, as he recalled those daydreams from several years ago, never daring to hope that they would be together even as that is all he had ever really wanted in life since falling in love with her many years ago. Now, knowing that she did feel a sense of responsibility for him by buying his house out from under him, he felt the old familiar weight of self-hatred as it washed over him.
Staring at the ceiling, trying not to fully open his eyes as the sunlight was becoming increasingly harsh, he tried to figure out what bothered him the most. He had admitted to himself that he would have done the same for her if she were the one who did not own a home, and he had the means to provide for her. In an odd way, she had attempted to even provide a sense of autonomy to him by giving him his own house, instead of having him inherit her own, understanding that if something ever did happen to her, he would never want to live in her house without her. Not only that, but no one in Cabot Cove would ever suspect that she had given the house to him as it was not common knowledge that he had rented. She had really done her best at protecting him.
Knowing all this, it was clear though that his pride was still hurt and that even though he was old-fashioned, Jessica was a woman of the world, and he needed to move with the times if he wanted to keep up with her.
No, he supposed that what bothered him the most was that she had done all of this behind his back, and they had been together now for a year and in all that time, she had never seen fit to tell him. Would she ever have told him of her own volition?
Before yesterday, he would have sworn that they did not keep secrets from each other, and she would never do anything behind his back that would hurt him. But now? Could he trust her again? He thought he could. In fact, he knew he could, but he was not sure how to. How does a person have their heart broken due to a breach in trust and repair that? Despite her acting in what she believed were his best interests, he felt hurt. Terribly, terribly hurt.
Sighing, he needed coffee. He could not wait any longer. Grumbling, he rolled to his side, gingerly getting out of bed. Looking down, he realized that he was still in his clothes from yesterday.
Shrugging off his trousers and unbuttoning his shirt, he wrapped his robe around his body. He would get his coffee and take it to the bathroom to shower. Walking towards the kitchen, he realized that the pieces of glass from the whiskey tumbler were nowhere in sight, evidence that Jessica had cleaned up after he went to bed.
His plans altered though, when he appeared at the doorway of the kitchen to see Jessica seated at the tiny breakfast table, a cup of coffee in front of her, staring off into space.
"Is there more coffee?" His voice was raspy, the residual effects of alcohol and lack of sleep, making it sound harsher than he meant it to.
Seeing him, she jumped up, her voice sounding relieved as she said, "Seth!" She moved over to him, but when she reached for him, he grasped her hands, keeping them in between their bodies, not allowing her to embrace him the way he knew she wanted to. He tried to smile, but he couldn't really. He did not know what to say, but he could not allow her to touch him yet.
"Coffee—please."
Her eyes watered as she looked down at their hands, but she nodded her head before turning to go to the coffee pot and pour him a fresh cup. He watched as she placed two pills beside the cup of coffee. Ibuprofen for the hangover she knew he had. Sitting down across from her, he swallowed the pills and reached for the newspaper she had discarded. Glancing at the headlines without taking them in, he asked, "Did you walk back this morning?"
"I never left last night…I didn't want to leave you like that. I slept on the couch."
Jerking his face up to look at her, he took in the dark circles under her eyes, the same rumpled clothes that she had arrived in last night, her hair that needed brushing, all things he could not bring himself to notice when he first walked in.
"That couch isn't comfortable. You should have gone home. I am surprised you can move this morning."
She made a noncommittal sound in response, not saying anything verbal. She had topped off her coffee when she had poured his own, and she was staring at the steam rising off the hot liquid. He watched her lean over slightly to inhale the coffee smell, trying to self-soothe if he had to guess. When he kept staring at her, she finally looked up at him, shrugging, before whispering, "My home is with you, Seth. At least I hope it still is."
"Ayuh, it is…"
"But?"
"But—you broke my trust. I can get past my wounded pride and all the ridiculous traditional thinking that I have, and I know you still have despite your feminist ideals these days. I can deal even with the subterfuge in the beginning and why you felt like you had to do everything behind my back…" he trailed off, lost in thought.
"Then what, Seth? What can't you make peace with?"
Boldly, he stared at her, making sure she understood not to look away. He wanted her to see the hurt and anger and fear in his eyes as he spoke, his voice broken, trying to keep the tears at bay. "I can't make peace yet that based on what you told me last night, the very trip to New York when you signed all these documents making provisions for my life without telling me, is the very one you came home from and invited me to your bed—I suppose I can get over you not telling me that day or the next day or even the next week. It was a honeymoon period of sorts for us. But we have been together for a year now, Jess, and in all that time, you never thought to tell me? You never thought to trust me to understand?"
While Seth had kept his tears in check, Jessica had not been so successful, the tears now pouring down her face. She reached for his hand tentatively. He allowed it, but his body language made it clear that was his limit. She tried to calm her tears so she could speak, but it was difficult, managing to say, "I'm so sorry, Seth. So sorry. I have no excuse other than fear of losing you, but I should have had more faith in you and in us. I know that you are hurting and I am responsible for that. I hope you allow me to find a way to make it up to you at some point."
Nodding, he tried to smile, but it came out crookedly. He squeezed her hand, letting it go, firmly removing his from her grasp. "Jess, I'm going to get a shower. I want to take a drive today on my own. I think I need to be alone."
She tried not to panic, but she couldn't stop herself from pleading with him, "Seth, please don't leave me."
"I'm not leaving you, woman." His eyes softened, trying to convey a bit of comfort, in the midst of his own hurt. "I couldn't leave you. I might as well die first because I can't survive without you. You are everything to me. But I—I just need time. Surely you can understand that, can't you?"
She felt miserable, but she nodded. She would give him anything he asked for right now.
He asked quietly, "Do you need a ride home?"
She shook her head no but stared down at her hands.
Standing, he moved to the doorway, turning at the last moment. "Jess, I promise I will be home tonight. But–don't wait up for me."
Her eyes locked with his. She wanted to beg him to come home earlier, until that moment not realizing he intended on being gone the full day, but she latched on to his promise that he would come home that night, and she understood that she needed to let him be.
"Alright, I trust you."
Seth wanted to return her sentiment. Deep down, he knew he trusted her, and she was trustworthy, despite how she did betray him, but he was going to have to process his emotions a bit to be able to vocalize that. He felt his heart constrict, as he knew she was hoping to hear him return her feelings, but he couldn't. He wanted to alleviate her pain as she had done for him so many times over the years as his best friend and now his partner and lover, but he couldn't. He did not have anything to give her right now, which is why he knew he needed to be alone.
He could not bear to see the pain or suffering in her eyes any longer, tears already brimming in them again, so he simply turned and walked down the hall to the bathroom, closing the door softly behind him.
