Through the Wooden Door

by K Carr

  “Yes,” she admitted. “It did but,”

  “Good,” Connor interrupted. He had an idea of what she planned to say and he didn’t want to hear it. “Great. Let’s go from here, we won’t rush it. We’ll just take-”

  “Connor,” It was her cutting him off now. “Look, this morning was nice,”

  “Jen,” he stopped her right there. “Do you love me?” He heard her irritated scoff down the line. “Do you?” he pressed.

  “Of course I do,” she confessed, bad-temperedly from the way it sounded. “But-”

  “But nothing,” Connor exhaled in relief. “As long as you’re still in love with me, we can make it work. Give us a chance, sweetheart. I miss you.”

  “Connor,”

  “And I really enjoyed this morning.” Connor deliberately brought the conversation back to their lovemaking to throw her off guard once more. “Maybe we could do it again sometime soon?”

  “Look, Connor-”

  “Let me take you out for dinner,” he interrupted her again, knowing he needed to keep firm on this course of action or she would slip through his hands like she did months ago. Shit. He looked frightful, there was no way he could be seen out in public like this. “Or you could come home and I’ll cook something for us.”

  Jen’s heavy sigh down the line didn’t bode well. She softly cleared her throat and said, “I know you love me, Connor, and,” she sighed again. “I love you too, but-”

  “But nothing,” he reminded her. “We love each other and that’s all that matters.”

  “It’s not that simple.” she argued, the frustration was clear to hear in her voice.

  “I know,” Connor exhaled loudly, he was frustrated too. He wanted what was left of his family back. “Look, I don’t want to have this conversation over the phone, Jennifer. I know it’s complicated, I know we have – I know it’s not going to be easy, but I also know that Megan deserves as happy and as stable a life that we can provide for her. I miss you. I miss her. I want us back.”

  She went silent and for a few seconds Connor thought she had hung up, until her pained whisper of, “We can’t go back. That’s – that’s impossible. Things won’t be the same,” came down the line.

  “I know,” His throat felt clogged with emotion, his chest felt tight and it had nothing to do with the bruises from his fight the night before. “God, Jen,” Connor implored. “I don’t think I can do this without you by my side. I’m being honest. I need you because I’m drowning here.”

  “I need you too,” she blurted out. “But I don’t want to. I don’t want to need you, I don’t want to look at you and see-” she broke off into a sob. “I don’t want to look at you and be reminded of him.” Jen started crying now. “Because he looked so much like you,”

  “I know, baby,” Connor murmured. “I know.”

  “And I miss him,” she cried. “I miss him so much and he’s never coming back, Connor. Our son is dead and I think I died with him that day. I’m not living, I’m just existing and it’s fucking unfair because Meg needs me and I can’t – I can’t – I’m fucking her up, Connor, and I know I am! I just want to not hurt anymore, to not feel this way anymore.”

  He wiped a hand over his face, the pain in her voice made him feel physically ill. “Then come home, Jen.” he whispered hoarsely. “Come home and maybe we can not hurt as much together, so we-”

  “I don’t know if I can,” she yelled before falling into another bout of soft crying. Connor said nothing, knowing she needed this moment. He only wished she was here in his arms instead of on the other side of a call. Taking deep audible breaths, she continued. “He’s everywhere in the house. Everything reminds me of him. I don’t know if I could live – could face,” Jen took some more deep breaths.

  “Then we’ll sell it.” Connor heard himself say. He loved their home. It was the perfect home for them and they had been enamoured with it from the moment they had walked in all those years ago. This house, it was infused with who they were…with so many happy memories. “We’ll sell it, sweetheart. If you can’t stay here, if it’s too much, we’ll sell up, find somewhere else, a new house where we can learn to be happy again.”

  Even hearing himself say it out loud sounded wrong. He glanced around the kitchen. Memories of their first meal on the old and long gone counter tops danced before his eyes, the time Lala almost blew up their new stove, when Jen had sat him down on that very breakfast stool and nervously told him she was pregnant with their Megan. He covered his face with one hand, unable to imagine not being here. Cory used to love the kitchen…and the back garden. The living room, Megan and Cory running wild throughout the house, their first steps, the tantrums, the laughter. This house was filled with their laughter.

  Oh dear god, please. Connor instinctively pleaded for strength in his head as he managed to croak out a determined, “We’ll sell it, Jen. I just want you and Megan with me, wherever it is, I just want my girls with me.”

  “We can’t sell,” Jen’s hoarse exclamation confused him.

  “We can,” The hand which was covering his face was now gingerly touching his swollen jaw. “If you can’t live here,”

  “But it’s the only home Meg has ever known. She’ll be,” Jen’s breathing sounded flustered. “I don’t know how she would adjust to such a change. I mean – our life is in the house…Connor, we - it’ll be like losing him all over again. We can’t sell our home.”

  He understood her dilemma, it was exactly how he felt. This house, this home they had made for themselves, leaving it would be leaving a part of Cory behind.

  “Jen,” Connor winced as he slowly walked over to the coffee machine. “Let’s not do this over the phone. Look, I’m all bruised up so I can’t come to your Mom’s. It’ll scare Meggie to see me like this. Can you come over later?”

  “No,” she muttered. “Mom’s out and I’ll-”

  “What about tomorrow?” he interrupted her, knowing if Rose was out then there wouldn’t be anyone else to watch their daughter. “After you drop Meggie off at school?”

  “Don’t you have work?”

  Connor grunted. It was a sound rife with embarrassment. “If I go in looking like this,” he sighed. “I’ll probably take the next few days off. We’ve got a big job on and Ben is off until Friday but I’m sure Eddie and the others can handle the jobs we’ve got lined up. Will you come home?”

  “To talk tomorrow?” she asked for clarification. “Just for tomorrow?”

  An unwilling smile pulled at the edges of his mouth, making him wince seconds later from the slight tightness of pain. She had instinctively read between his words and wisely suspected his loaded question meant more than he implied on the surface.

  “Yes,” he agreed. “Just for tomorrow, just to talk.” Then he added a quick, “Unless you’re feeling frisky. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to though, you might have to sit on me again. We can start like we did before and see if I get my strength back.”

  “Connor,” she chastised softly.

  “What?” he retorted, needing something else to think about besides the fractured state of their family. Anything would do. “You’ve seen how bruised I am. I was literally flopping around like a fish at first.” He heard her tiny snort of reluctant amusement, so he kept it up. “Thanks by the way, for taking charge like that until I could.”

  “You’re welcome,” she replied with a shade of humour. Then she sighed under her breath. “I can’t promise I’ll be able to come tomorrow. Ok? It’s the start of the week and you know how it can get at the shelter. I have to help Mom.”

  “I know,” Connor rushed to assure her. “I know you do.” He didn’t point out her time at the women’s shelter was completely voluntary. He didn’t dare insinuate that their business could do with her presence. He didn’t say any of those things for fear of sparking an argument. “We just need to talk. I just want to talk, Jen; like we used to.”

  There was a moment of silence from her end before she said with a firmne
ss which made him grimace. “I have to go now, Connor. I’ll text you tomorrow.”

  “I’d prefer a call,” he countered but not in a demanding way.

  “Fine,” she relented. It sounded begrudging to his ear. “I’ll call you tomorrow to confirm whether I can stop by the house.”

  “Fine,” he tossed back. “Give Meggie a kiss from me,”

  “I will.”

  “And you can have one too,” he added.

  “Goodbye, Connor.” she huffed.

  But he could hear the smile in her voice and he grinned at the coffee machine. “Love you,” he quipped, holding his breath and hoping she would once more verbalize her affection for him. He needed to hear it again.

  “Love you too,” she muttered. “Bye.”

  With the call over, Connor decided to make himself some coffee. His whole body ached like hell, yet the grin stayed on his face. This was good, something good could come from of his ill-judged night of drinking. The silence in the house didn’t feel as oppressive today. This silence was full of hope. He really fucking hoped his marriage was about to be saved, and although the logical part of his brain warned that their sleeping together should not be looked at with rose-coloured glasses, Connor couldn’t help but feel they had taken a monumental step towards each other. Would Jen do it though? Would she stop running away while he chased her? Would she face their problems together and try to meet on some sort of common ground?

  It all boiled down to one question. Would she give him a second chance?

  Chapter 10

  The urge to pee was overwhelming, but my bladder was empty. I had made sure to use the bathroom before leaving my mom’s place. It was just nerves. I parked up, checked my face in the overhead mirror, then took a few deep breaths to calm down. This would be ok. It was no big deal, just me meeting up with Connor to help him choose a nice Christmas gift for his parents.

  A part of me assumed this was a ploy to get us in the same place together. We hadn’t seen each other since that morning. A week and a half had passed, even fate had played a role with Meg’s weekly therapy session being unexpectedly cancelled. It still felt embarrassingly fresh. My tummy did a somersault. I had forgotten this feeling. The ‘nervous after sex’ ‘how do I greet you’ feeling. The more somersaults my tummy did, the more pissed off I got with myself. It was Connor for crying out loud! We were married, estranged but married – wait – what about our pending divorce? Was I still going to go through with it? I mean, sex with my husband was great, but was that one-off enough to halt the dissolution of our marriage? Oh shit. Hadn’t Talia said even if he refused to agree to the divorce we could still get one on the grounds he and I were no longer living together? No longer intimate? Oh shit. Shit. Had fucking him fucked up my options? Connor wouldn’t hesitate to divulge the salacious titbit about us sleeping together to the judge.

  Did I even want a divorce anymore?

  I loved him. I remembered knowing with certainty that same night as I watched him fall asleep in our bed. In those moment, when I stood worrying about whether he was more hurt than he looked, there had been no doubt. My stomach stopped misbehaving as I focused on the undeniable fact I was still very much in love with my husband.

  It would be so much easier if I wasn’t.

  “Come on,” I chastised myself out loud. “What’s the worst that could happen? Huh? The worst has already happen.” It was a sobering thought, and sadly very true. There was a low buzz coming from my bag. I nabbed it from where it rested on the passenger seat and pulled the phone out. “Hi,” I answered seconds later.

  “Hey, sweetheart,” Connor breezed down the line. “I’m in front the store. Where are you?”

  “Just parked up a couple of streets down from where the store is.” The fluttering in my stomach was back.

  “I’ll come meet you,” he offered to which I declined immediately.

  “No, no it’s fine. I’ll be there in five minutes.”

  “Ok,” he paused. “Well, I guess I’ll see you in five minutes then.”

  “Ok,” I hesitated. Shit. This was weird. “Bye.” I hung up before I heard his reply.

  I checked my face one last time – it wasn’t going to change from the last time I looked, but still – grabbed my bag and exited my car. The walk to the store took me a little more than five minutes, mainly because I was dawdling and continually checking my reflection in every store window I passed by. Then I saw Connor stood in front the craft store, head bent to his phone which displayed his side profile. I slowed down even further, taking the time to appreciate how handsome he was. When last had I looked at him? Allowed my eyes to see him, not on an emotional or intellectual level; but on a physical level? My perusal was short-lived because he raised his head and glanced around, immediately spotting my approach. A wide, welcoming smile stretched across his face as he started walking towards me. The previous fluttering in my stomach came back, accompanied with a dry mouth and embarrassingly blank mind.

  “Hi,” he said, coming to a stop in front of me.

  “Hi,” I repeated then promptly fell silent.

  Connor raised his arms then hesitated for a second before shrugging his shoulders and pulling me into a hug. He squeezed me against his chest and bent his face into my hair. “You smell good.”

  I should’ve returned the compliment because he also smelt good, delicious actually, but my face was pressed into his chest and it was extremely enjoyable being held by him. Connor leaned back and I tilted my head upwards to look at him, ready to finally say something more than ‘hi’. The need to speak was stolen away when he took ownership of my lips in a tender kiss which quickly morphed into a much more heated exchange of tongues.

  “Hi,” I said breathlessly once our lips pulled apart. “Your bruises are almost gone. You can barely see them.” I gently touched under his eye.

  “Thank goodness,” he grumbled then he slipped an arm around my waist, as a wide grin split his face. “Shall we go?”

  I nodded while trying to think up safe topics to talk about during our jaunt. “Do you have any idea of what you want to get your parents?” Nice and neutral.

  Connor shrugged as we started to walk. “Not sure to be honest. That’s usually your domain,” He sent me a sidelong glance. “Figuring out what to get for whom. That’s why I asked you along today,” He chuckled under his breath. “To take the pressure off me.”

  I rolled my eyes and snorted. Had I snuggled closer to him as we fell into step together? Maybe I had. Should I put my own arm around him? It was starting to feel awkward, him holding me as we walked.

  “I know your mom has been wanting a new sideboard to match the small table she has in the hallway,” I suggested.

  Connor made an unhappy sound. “Dad is fed up with new furniture. He actually warned me about furniture when I asked him what they wanted for Christmas, said Mom’s been pestering him for a new dining set and he just bought her a new patio set for the back.”

  “Ok, how about some new crystal? Your mom does like her crystal glasses.”

  “Mmm,” Connor tugged me closer to avoid the people walking towards us on the sidewalk. “But what will we get for Dad then? He’s not going to get anything from crystal glasses.”

  Still silently debating whether to sling my arm around his waist, I retorted, “He’ll be drinking from them, won’t he?”

  Connor angled his head down at me. “Do you want to get a bite to eat first? It’s almost one. We can if you’re hungry. Or maybe after shopping. How does that sound?”

  It sounded as if he intended to spend as much time as he could with me on this shopping outing.

  “Ok,” I agreed.

  “Ok?” He was still peering at me. “Which one? Before or after?”

  “After?” I suggested, unwilling to be the decision-maker in this.

  “After,” Connor agreed. “Sounds like a plan. Right. Where to first?” He moved his arm, ending his hold around my waist, and grabbed my hand instead. It was extremely sweet
the way he entwined our fingers. “I was thinking we could sort your Mom’s present out today also. Did you read Meggie’s Christmas list to Santa? She texted me a photo of it two weeks ago and I’ve already got most of them,” He stopped talking and tilted his head down at me. His expression was sheepish. “Did I text you that I’ve already gotten most of her presents?”

  I slowly shook my head.

  “Shit,” he muttered with self-reproach. “I knew I had forgotten to do something.”

  I tugged on his hand, signalling I wanted to stop then went up on my toes to kiss him squarely on the mouth. “Thanks, because I haven’t bought anything on her list yet.”

  Ignoring the people impatiently brushing past us, Connor grinned at me, pleased by my spontaneous kiss. “Do I get another kiss if I confess to also having your gifts sorted?”

  Damn. I quickly started us moving again, silently worrying over his teasing comment. I hadn’t bought him anything. Were we back together? Was it official? I needed concrete answers but I was too much of a coward to ask outright.

  “Do you know what,” he mused. “I’m actually feeling hungry now. Let’s grab a bite first, that way we’ll have the energy to shop.”

  “Ok,” I went along with the change because I was silently trying to decide how to behave in the current situation. Huh. Hadn’t I already made my choice by allowing the kiss, the hug, the way we were at this very moment holding hands? We were both behaving as if we were a normal couple, doing normal couple stuff. My marriage had been anything but normal this past year.

  “What are you feeling?” Connor asked while scanning the nearby stores. “Look, there’s a pizza place over the road. Shall we try that one?”

  I gave him a neutral smile and nodded. Ten minutes later we were being seated and given menus. My gaze kept landing on his left hand. In all the time during our separation I hadn’t seen his ring finger bare, unlike mine. At work he used to remove it for safety reasons, but it was always back on the moment he walked out the warehouse. Was he still doing that? I glanced at my ring-less left hand.