by Owen, L
I shake my head. “Not bad,” I croak out. Ethan phones the police, and as Stephen begins to come around, Ethan threatens him with further violence. At this point, Stephen appears too weak to put up much of a fight.
It’s not long before the police arrive and take Stephen away, and naturally, when they see his face, they ask about it. I’m questioned in the kitchen while Ethan is taken into the living room. I’ll be damned if I’ll let Ethan get into trouble for this, so I tell them everything about the years of control and abuse, every humiliating moment. Stephen hasn’t been questioned yet, so he’s not had a chance to use his power to manipulate the story or pull strings. One of the police officers pulls Ethan and me aside and mentions we’re free to go. He also advises Ethan that he should probably leave the country before Stephen regains his full facilities, as he’s familiar with his reputation and aware of the pending investigation regarding the issues with Beth. He then mutters something about loopholes in our justice system before walking away.
We get back to the hospital hours after leaving to pick up Beth’s clothes. Ethan talks to Roman outside to catch him up and makes plans for our flight home. Beth has been so strong up to this point, but as I tell her what took place in her house, she seems to crumble before my eyes. She begs me not to leave her. I tell her Roman wants to stay behind, and she goes into a complete meltdown begging me to stay instead. I have no idea how to help her. After a few minutes of hearing her sobs, I do the only thing I can. I owe her everything, despite the obvious dangers and that I will be separated from Ethan; I agree to stay.
TWENTY SEVEN
Caitlin
Telling Ethan I’m not going with him shatters my heart. “What the hell do you mean you’re not coming?” He’s not shouting, but his voice is firm.
My voice is barely a whisper. “I can’t; I’m sorry. Beth is having some sort of mental breakdown. She doesn’t want Roman here, and she can’t be alone. She needs me.” I desperately hope he understands. The decision is tearing me apart, and I don’t need him to make it even harder.
He kneels in front of me taking my hand. “I need you. I want you. I love you. I can’t leave you here with him, Caitlin.”
I look at him, a rogue tear escaping. I quickly rub it away. “I know all of that, but I can’t leave Beth. Not now,” I say feeling defeated and out of options.
He’s face hardens. “So that’s it? No discussion. We’re over?”
“What, over? No, that’s not what I mean, and you know it,” I rush out.
His face is one of confusion now. “How can we be together when you’re determined to stay here? I have no choice but to go back to America or take the risk of sitting in prison for attempted murder once your ex does his thing.”
I cup his face. “Ethan, you have to relax. I promise once Beth’s better, I’ll come home. It shouldn’t be long.”
He takes my hand from his face and threads his fingers through mine. “You promise?” His voice sounds hopeful.
“I promise,” I reply, desperately hoping I can keep to it.
***
A month has passed since I’ve seen Ethan, and every day my heart breaks a little more. Instead of getting better, Beth has become extremely depressed and withdrawn. It didn’t help that the wound on her shoulder became infected, making her pain much more intense. This was when she began to close down. It’s healing now, and the burns on her neck and lower jaw look much better already, even though there’s still a long road ahead.
Beth’s been in the hospital a total of six weeks now, and today she’s being discharged. This brightens her mood slightly. Being stuck in the hospital for the last few weeks has sucked the life out of me, so I’m hoping this is the beginning of Beth’s emotional recovery and of my getting home to Ethan.
Libby joins us again, although Beth’s mother hasn’t visited since the first day I arrived. After Stephen is arrested and formally charged, Libby’s anger towards me wanes, and we actually become closer.
I pick up Libby in Beth’s car, and we’re off to get our girl from the hospital. We walk into the room and find Beth still in bed, her head ducked under the covers.
“Hey!” I greet her, trying to sound upbeat. “Are you ready to get out of here?”
Beth grunts, and I roll my eyes at Libby. “Come on, get your arse out of that bed,” Libby says.
Beth groans. “Okay.” She rolls out of bed.
It’s a beautiful warm day, and I breathe in the clean air, enjoying a scent much nicer than disinfectant. I’m elated we can finally leave, but Beth remains tense, covering her scars with a jacket and thin scarf. She’s pulled it high over the left side of her jaw.
I want to lighten her mood. “How about we go to a pub close to home and grab a bite to eat?”
Beth doesn’t go for it. “Umm, I think I’d rather go home.”
I’m not having any of it; it’s about time she starts living again and pushes out of her comfort zone. “Beth please, you’ve been cooped up in that bloody hospital for weeks now, living off of that nasty hospital food you didn’t even enjoy. Let’s go and have some nice pub grub.”
As I glance in the mirror, I see her purse her lips in thought then nod. Before she changes her mind, I make my way to the pub. When we pull up, I already know she’s having second thoughts. I nod to Libby, and we each take an arm, walking her towards the entrance before she can bolt.
The place is a typical British pub with open fireplaces and wooden beams; this one has a real country feel. It’s a beautiful day, so we decide to sit in the garden. “The food looks amazing here,” Beth says, perking up after perusing the menu.
Waiting for the food to arrive, we reminisce about some drunken escapades we had gotten into. A couple of years before I’d even met Stephen, Beth and I were walking home from a night out. We were a little worse for wear, and Beth, with some prompting from me, decided jumping in a bush was a good idea. I have no idea why we thought it was a good idea at the time; obviously it was the wine talking. There were a few branches, so she moved them over then backed away, giving herself a long head start. She took off running fast and leaped, flying through the air as she got to the bush. She miscalculated and landed right into the bramble she had moved away. When she tried to get up, she found many thorns embedded in her skin. Whining, she pulled at each spike, and I was no help at all. Tears dripped down my face, and I could barely stand up straight. With all the laughing, breathing was a real struggle. As I tell the story to Libby, we all cackle, probably annoying the other patrons, but we don’t care.
There’s a small group of children in the garden kicking around a football, and all of our laughter must’ve drawn their attention. One of them notices Beth’s disfigured skin, being that her scarf has fallen away. He doesn’t say anything, but his look says it all. I notice him first, and frantically think of some way to distract Beth before she sees, but it’s too late. She grabs her scarf, pulls it high, and abruptly gets up from the wooden table. “Keys,” she demands.
“Oh Beth, come on. He didn’t mean anything by it. He’s just a little kid. Our food will be here soon. Let’s just eat,” I say with a soothing tone, but it’s too late judging by the look I get from her. I hand the keys to her, and she runs off. Libby had her back to the child, so she looks around, trying to figure out what happened. I groan into my hands when I hear the car kick up gravel as Beth speeds away.
“Well shit, Libby. She’s gone,” I huff out.
The staff are helpful as I explain our predicament, and they offer to plate up the food for us to take home. We pay, and they present us with our packages just when our taxi arrives. It’s a good thing it’s only a fifteen minute drive because I’m starving.
I’m relieved when we pull up at Beth’s because her car’s in the drive. Spotting Beth slumped over the steering wheel, I gently knock on the window. Her shoulders shake because she’s sobbing so hard. The door is unlocked, and as I open it, she looks up at me, her face swollen and red. “I couldn’t go in there a
lone,” she says.
My heart breaks when I see how much of a toll all this has taken on my friend. I made the right decision by staying, regardless of how difficult it’s been on me. “It’s okay,” I say softly. Hand in hand we walk inside, and I immediately help her to settle into bed. Once she’s asleep, I go to my room, desperate to hear Ethan’s voice. He answers after a few rings. “Hey, babe.” It’s early morning there, and his voice is husky from just being woken.
“Hey, I really need to hear your voice,” I sigh. There are sounds of him moving, and then he clears his throat.
“What’s wrong, babe? I thought Beth was coming home today?”
“She is, we are. I made the huge mistake of taking us to a pub first. A kid saw her scar. Beth flipped out and took off. I should’ve bloody known it was too soon. I shouldn’t have pushed her so hard.” I try to stifle my tears, but I’m overwhelmed.
“Babe, please don’t cry. It’ll be okay. Where is she now?”
“I’ve just put her to bed. I don’t have a damn clue why the hell the hospital would release her like this. She’s just not ready. Anyone in his right mind can see that,” I say, squeezing at the bridge of my nose and taking in a deep breath.
“Babe, the hospital can’t do anymore for her, and you know that. That’s why they’ve arranged counseling for her.”
“It just doesn’t seem like enough. I’m at a loss here. I don’t know what to do anymore.”
”Caitlin, hear me out, please. I’ve spoken to Owen, the guy who runs The Center, and they can take Beth as soon as we want. You’re not qualified to deal with this type of trauma, and it’s not fair to punish yourself either. You can come back to me, and we can help Beth at the same time. I’ve arranged everything. So when do you think you can get a flight out?”
Granted, The Center did help Ethan after he was injured, and they are helping Simon now, but I’m so frustrated with the whole horrific situation. Am I really supposed to uproot Beth from the only home she’s ever known and drag her to a different continent given her current state of mind? Sure, they can probably help her, but at what cost? She’d have to give up everything. She’s only recently regained her relationship with her sister, plus her job… I ran to the U.S. because I had to get away—it was life or death for me. It’s a different situation for Beth.
Instead of relief, I feel confusion and then anger. Is it fair for him to insist I do this to her? He just did it without asking, no consideration of the fact that Beth might not even be receptive to the idea. That’s when my over-emotional state allows my mouth to spew trash before I get a chance to think it through. “Beth is trying to get over what MY boyfriend put her through. I’ll stay here as long she needs me. I can’t just up and MAKE her move. Stop being so bloody selfish, Ethan. It’s because you want me back over there. So you can keep an eye on me, and make sure I’m not doing something you’d disapprove of, right?” I regret it the second it leaves my mouth.
“Ex,” he grinds out.
“What?”
“He’s your ex. I’m your boyfriend.” Of all the horrible things I’ve said, this is his focus?
“I didn’t mean it like that,” I sigh, defeated.
We’re both silent a moment then he says the dreaded words. “I’m done.” My gut clenches hearing them. “You damn well know I’m doing this to help Beth. For some reason I can’t seem to figure out, you won’t do it. You’re punishing yourself for what happened, but in doing so, you’re punishing me, also. I’ve waited weeks and would wait as long as you needed, but I’m realizing you have no plans to come back. Live in your world of self-loathing and self-pity. I’m damn sure I’m not going to watch you self-destruct. I’m letting you go because I can’t fight for you from over here. You have to want to come home to me. Tell me you want to come home to me, Caitlin.”
I don’t reply; I have no idea why. I’m not sure my heart is even beating anymore. What am I doing? What have I done? “Caitlin?” he asks, but I remain silent as words continue to fail me. “Your mind is obviously made up then. I’m sorry. I wanted us to have so much more.” He hangs up the phone, and the dial tone screams in my ear. I remain there for I don’t know how long, the phone still in place. Eventually it sinks in, and as the tears and tremors wrack my body, I realize I’ve thrown away the best thing I’ve ever had.
***
A week has passed since that dreadful conversation, and I’ve had no contact with Ethan at all, not even a text. I don’t see the point; he made it clear he was done with me, and at the moment, I just don’t have the strength. I haven’t mentioned it to Beth, because despite the reality, I can’t bring myself to say the words. It would only serve to make it more final. Beth seems a little brighter lately, so I focus on that instead. Roman bombarded me with calls. I refused to answer them, so then he changed to texting. I haven’t replied to any of those either. I did, however, leave a message on Len’s home phone when I knew he’d be at Betty’s. It was to explain why I couldn’t come back. Call me a coward; I just can’t face talking to him. I don’t know if I’ll stay in the UK, but I know I can’t go back there—not where Ethan is, not now. My phone beeps again; this time I relent and look. It’s from Roman.
R: Please Caitlin he’s not doing well. Talk to me sis.
Shit! He knows I won’t be able to resist him calling me sis.
Me: There’s nothing I can say. It was him that ended it, not me.
R: You know he felt he had no other option. Were you ever planning to come back?
Me: Of course I bloody was! It’s just not that easy. I can’t just push Beth aside so I can get on with living my happy life!
I write the words, but I’m not completely sure it’s the truth. I don’t know if I’d have gone back. A long sigh escapes me as I remember Beth saying I sabotage anything good. It’s true, and I don’t know why I do this. I don’t feel I deserve to be happy. That’s a fucked up way of thinking, I know.
R: Caitlin, come on, you know it’s not like that. The Center will help her. You belong with us. You both do. Do you still love him?
Me: With all of my broken heart!
R: Then let me help you fix this please.
Me: I want to. I really do, but I have no idea how.
At that my door bursts open; it’s Beth, and she doesn’t look happy. “Give me your bloody phone.”
“What?”
“Give me your bloody phone, Caitlin.” she repeats, holding out her hand.
I pass it to her without saying anything, and she sits down on my bed, taking the time to read my texts. She shakes her head at times and tuts at others, but never says a word. Finally, once she’s finished, she turns to me with unshed tears in her eyes. “You and Ethan split up a week ago, and you never told me?” I hate the disappointment in her tone.
I nod. “I’m sorry. How’d you figure it out?” I ask puzzled.
“Roman sent me a text saying I needed to look. He was right.”
“Those brothers are sneaky bastards.” With my comment, we both chuckle.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she reprimands.
I sigh. “I didn’t want to because I was worried you’d blame yourself.”
Laughing with no humor, she replies, “Of course I would. What’s this Center place?”
I explain it and tell how it helped Ethan. “Do you think it will help me?” she asks.
“I do, but it’s not that simple, Beth. There are places in the UK. We don’t need to go to America to get you help.”
“No, we don’t.” She sighs. “But, Ethan’s not in the UK.”
“You need to forget about Ethan. We’re done.”
“Don’t be a fool! You know that’s bollocks.” I don’t get to say anything as she continues to rant. “If you went back, he would open his arms for you.” She pauses as if mulling things over. “Let’s do it.”
Hold on a second. “What?”
“I’ll go to this Center place,” she says with a shrug.
“What? You’ll go? Ju
st like that? What about your house, your job, your life here? You didn’t want to do it when Roman wanted you to stay, why would you now? What’s changed?”
She looks so sad. “Stephen changed everything. I don’t want to be here anymore. When I said no to Roman, I’d only known him a week. Even then, I knew I’d made a mistake before I put one foot on the plane. Not that I’m saying I want Roman now; that’s not what this is about. I need to heal, and I need help in order to do that. I’m sorry to say, but I think this is more than you and I can handle. It’s not like I need to work, and if I’m honest, I’m not ready anyway. As for the house, I can sell it; it’s just bricks. I want us both happy, and this town has too many memories we don’t need reminding of.” She takes my hand. “Look, I need help. I know this, and I don’t want to be here. As Stephen is pleading not guilty, I’ll need to come back for the trial, but that’s months, if not years away.”
“I’m not sure if the offer of The Center still stands.”
“Ok look, you still have your apartment, yes?” she asks.
Yes, I do; I hadn’t gotten around to giving it up yet. I nod.
“Right then. We’ll stay there and see how things go with Ethan. If it doesn’t work out, then we move on together. What do you say?”
I look at her, and all I see is sincerity and hopefulness; things I haven’t seen light her eyes in a long time. “Are you sure?”
“I’ve never been more certain about anything in my life.”
Smiling at her, I put my hand out, and she places my phone in my hand. He answers on the first ring. “Roman, I need your help.”
TWENTY EIGHT
Ethan
I wish I could wake and this was just a nightmare, but this is my reality. I’m still lying in bed, reeling from the phone call I got from Caitlin. It’s bad enough I’ve been home for weeks and haven’t slept well, but this is so much worse than insomnia. I NEED her, I KNOW her insecurities, and I opened my stupid mouth to spout a load of shit. My damn pride has cost me again, and now she’ll never be mine.