“What the hell I ever saw in you I have no fucking clue.” I spit under my breath.
White sheets of paper begin to fall from the sky. They flutter around me before landing on the damp ground. “I could say the same.” He shouts.
My jaw drops.
He’s a child.
He just did that.
He actually just did that.
I step away from the door and stare at the loose sheets that are scattered around the porch and driveway. The window above slams shut.
He’s a fucking child.
I storm to my car, my face hot and no doubt red as anger takes over every cell in my body.
Eloise: I’ll be there sooner than expected. Are you home?
Mum: I’ll put the kettle on.
Chapter Three
Isaac
My dad pulls into the driveway as I collect the final piece of paper from the wet ground and drop it in the green wheelie bin. He eyes me cautiously as he climbs from the car, his keys in hand. The car beeps as he locks it.
“What’s wrong?” He asks, sensing my mood.
“Eloise.”
He blanches and stops in the middle of the driveway. “As in your wife?”
“As in my soon to be ex-wife.” I mutter so quietly I’m surprised he even hears me.
“She wants a divorce?”
I haven’t yet spoken to him about the letters I’ve been receiving. I haven’t put much thought into any of it as yet. I suppose I’ve been biding my time whilst I sort through the mess in my head.
“Of course she wants a divorce… have you seen her? I’m surprised she didn’t ask for one sooner.” I admit bitterly and stomp towards the front door.
“What…” He clears his throat to hide his hesitation. “What’s she like?”
“Cold…” I burned her image onto my brain the second I saw all of her standing in the doorway.
“Cold?”
“Female version of her father.” A man I loathe beyond reason.
“Time changes people.” My father points out as we move into the kitchen. He drops his keys on the side and clicks on the kettle. “Leftover eggs?”
I completely forgot about my lunch, though my appetite is no longer existent so I suppose it no longer matters. I tip the half cooked eggs into the bin and drop the pan into the sink.
“You seem rattled.”
I let out a laugh. “Wouldn’t you have been?”
He nods his agreement and pulls two cups from the cupboard. “So you’re getting a divorce?”
Wincing, I lean over the sink and stare out of the window. “I don’t know.”
“Has she filed?”
“Yep.”
“Then what choice do you have?”
He has a point. “I don’t… I just…”
“You didn’t think it would happen so soon.”
I didn’t think it would happen at all. I’m not sure what I expected would happen. This is all such a mess. “She doesn’t want anything.”
He looks at me over his shoulder as I turn to face him. I rest my hip against the worktop and chew on the inside of my cheek. “She doesn’t want the house or anything?”
“Nope.”
“So why does she need a divorce?” His confused frown turns into a look of realisation. “She’s getting remarried.”
“She says she isn’t but I don’t know what else to think.” I hiss bitterly and rub my chest as I imagine what her fuck toy looks like.
“You still love her.” My dad points at me with a teaspoon between his fingers.
“No…” I deny because I know that isn’t it. Is it? “I’m just pissed off that she hasn’t been in touch for years and then when she does get in touch she doesn’t even say hello.” I blow out a defeated breath. “She didn’t even say hello.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I genuinely haven’t thought that far ahead.”
He shakes his head. “Just give her the divorce.” When I don’t respond, he gives me a long look. “You were hoping she’d come back.”
“No.”
“Yes.” He lets out a laugh. “Well then you better fight for her, hadn’t you?”
“That’s not it…” It’s not. I refuse to believe that I’ve been sat here subconsciously pining over a girl who is probably running into the arms of her next husband as we speak. Fuck that. “I just don’t like to be ordered around.”
“So you’re not giving her a divorce?”
“I am. I will.”
“Isaac…”
“I’ve got this under control.”
“You’re a terrible liar. Maybe you should just sit down with her and talk all of this through?” I don’t respond to his advice and instead fold my arms over my chest and stare at a spot on the wall as I try to gather my thoughts. “If she wants to let go, Isaac…”
“I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” I exit the room and grab my jacket off the hook in the hallway. “I’m going out.”
“Where?”
“For a drive.”
“Don’t do anything stupid, Son.”
Define stupid.
Eloise
“I hate him.” I say for the hundredth time since arriving home.
My mum steers me towards the door, obsessed with the idea of a long walk to clear my head.
That’s not what I need. What I need is for Isaac to stop being such a pig-headed idiot with a stick up his arse.
She somehow manages to manoeuvre me out of the door anyway. “It’s so unfair. Why is he being like this?”
“I don’t know, Sweetie. Maybe seeing you was such a shock that he didn’t know how to react?”
“No, he’s just an arsehole.”
“You’ve become such a well-mannered young lady, Eloise. Don’t ruin it now with a potty mouth.”
Is she serious? “Mum…”
“Stop stressing over it. Text him or something. He might have calmed down by now.”
She has a point.
I let out a sigh and open my phone.
Silas’ name lights up the screen. I open his message before I start a new one.
Silas: Send me a sexy selfie. I miss you.
I laugh a little and feel a small portion of my anger dissipate.
Eloise: I’m with my mum. I can’t right now.
Silas: Shame… How goes it with your ex?
Eloise: Don’t ask. I’m feeling stabby. I’ll call you soon.
Silas: Okay. Take it easy. I love you.
I stare at Isaac’s number in my phone for a long moment. It’s the same number he’s always had. I’m not even sure if it’s the right one. I should have asked him today, not that he would have told me.
Anger flashes through me again at the memory of how unreasonable he was, but then confusion replaces my anger when I remember his answer to my question and the look in his eyes when he said it.
“Yes. Don’t you?” I asked, just wanting this over with.
“No.”
The way he said it… the look in his eyes… I’m not sure what it meant.
Eloise: Can we please meet so we can talk about this?
My mum links her arm through mine and walks us in the direction of the town centre. We stay relatively silent as I stress over today’s events in my mind.
I wasn’t too bothered about getting a divorce in the first place, but now I’ve been denied one I want it more than anything. I know getting a divorce at this point is the smart thing to do. I’ll never be rekindling my relationship with Isaac and eventually I might decide to marry somebody else. It just seems like getting a divorce now is the smart thing to do.
If he’s adamant that we aren’t getting a divorce because he doesn’t want to lose the house, then he needn’t worry. I was serious when I said I don’t want any of it. I just want to move on with my life. If he’d just signed his side of the papers in the first place, we could both be getting on with our lives.
Eloise: Please, Isaac. I have to leave soon.
It’s not until Mum and I reach Crystal’s café, where I used to work when I was a teen, that my phone finally alerts me to an incoming text.
Isaac: Meet me at the bench in the park in twenty minutes?
Eloise: I’ll be there.
I cross my fingers that he’s seen reason.
Isaac
It feels surreal walking across the grass towards the red headed female who is sitting on the bench overlooking the pond.
I remember her sitting in that very spot the night of Crystal’s funeral. I remember it as if it were yesterday. I touched her neck and played with her hair.
I’d never come closer to kissing her than I had in that moment. It seems such a long time ago.
She doesn’t look up as I make my way over, nor does she look at me when I sit on the opposite end of the bench. I give her the space she wants. If I had it my way, I’d…
“Thank you for coming,” she says softly, interrupting my thoughts.
I hold out a hot paper cup full of coffee. “A peace offering,” I tell her as she eyes the coffee warily. “I assume you drink it the same way.”
“I don’t have sugar anymore,” she states but takes the cup anyway. “I assume you like it the same way as before?”
“I’m a man of habit,” I admit and then cringe, recalling the very habit that contributed to the breakdown of our marriage in the first place. The coffee is good; I focus on that. “I’m sorry…”
“I think that…”
We both speak at the same time and fall into an uncomfortable silence.
The wind blows across us and I get a hit of her scent. She still smells like rhubarb. I wish above all else that I hadn’t picked this location to meet her. The nostalgia is killing me.
Killing me.
I inhale deeply and cross my legs at the ankles. She watches my movements out of the corner of her eye.
“I’m sorry for how I greeted you and for how things ended today,” she tells me and I’m shocked at the apology. “I’d really just like to put things behind us so we can move forward. I’m sure you…”
I raise my hand, silencing her. “Don’t apologise. I acted like an idiot. It was just… Elle, I haven’t seen you in so long.” I turn towards her. “I was awful to you. I think I’ve always been awful to you.”
Her lips part. “Things happen. I’m over it.”
We keep a hold of each other’s eyes. I watch as the wind whips her hair to the left, some of it catching the gloss on her lips before freeing itself. She’s changed so much, yet at the same time she hasn’t.
“Are you hungry?” I ask, wanting to keep her in my company for as long as possible. “I skipped lunch.”
She whips her head round to stare at my profile. “No, I’m perfectly fine.” Perfectly fine? Who is this robot? “Can we just…”
“Let’s go to lunch.”
“You agreed to meet me here.”
“I’ve changed my mind.”
“I’d rather just…”
I stand and face her, offering her my hand. “Let’s go and eat.”
“I’m not hungry.” She’s lying. Her poker face hasn’t gotten any better in the past four years.
“You’re hungry.”
“Whatever…” A flash of teen Elle just shone through. I feel victorious. “I don’t have time for this.”
“Your fiancé waiting for you?”
She rolls her eyes. “What are we doing here, Isaac?”
Good question. “Is it wrong that I want to catch up? It’s been four bloody years. Surely we can discuss our divorce like adults over dinner?”
I know I’ve hit my mark when I see her shoulders sag. “Fine. Where do you want to eat?”
Smiling to myself, I offer her my hand again and this time she takes it. “I’ll drive.”
She doesn’t argue thankfully; she looks defeated. I think I’ve finally won a round.
Chapter Four
Eloise
Climbing into his car is a strange experience. It’s surprisingly clean and it smells of him. His scent hasn’t changed at all and I’m ashamed to admit that it still makes my mouth water.
I contemplate sitting in the back but decide against it as that would be childish.
“So, tell me about university.” He says softly and puts the car in gear. I’m glad he’s chosen an easy subject.
“I’m graduating in June.”
“That’s great news. Did you switch courses in the end?”
I nod. “I did and I’m glad of it. I’ve learned so much.” Crossing my legs at the knees, I relax a little and turn slightly towards him. “What about you? You’re teaching again?”
“In Boston. I come to see Mum and Dad every weekend.”
This stings a little. If things hadn’t deteriorated so rapidly, we’d probably have been living together in Cambridge by the end of our first year together. I push that thought away as it’s useless dwelling on it.
“How are they?”
He takes a moment. “Mum is… she’s frail. My dad is hanging in there.”
“And you?”
He glances at me out of the corner of his eye. “I’m fine. Things are steady. I like that.”
I can’t help but feel that that was a dig at me, or maybe I’m just sore at my prior revelation regarding what could have been instead of what is. “Good.” I don’t call him out on it; there’s no point.
“So, what else have I missed out on?”
“Well Jordan moved out when he graduated two years ago and Kira moved in.”
“You’re still close?”
“Jordan and I drifted as people do, but Kira and I are solid.”
“And Hayley?”
“She’s engaged to that guy she fell onto when we all went out for the day in Cambridge. Do you remember?”
He blinks, looking surprised. “No kidding?”
“No kidding.” I confirm, giggling a little. “They’re happy as can be. He’s a really nice guy.” I can’t resist getting my own dig in. “They’re such a stable couple.”
“Good for them.” His tone is sincere and wistful. “Makes you wonder if that would be us now if we’d waited.”
My mouth falls open just as he cringes. I can’t believe he just said that out loud. I know I thought it, but he said it. “What’s done is done.”
“Sure,” he mutters and finally we arrive at our destination.
We pull up outside a new Italian restaurant just at the edge of the town centre. I haven’t been here since it opened last year but I’ve heard good things.
Isaac rushes around the car to help me out, even though it’s not needed. I can’t lie; the feel of his warm, large hand encompassing mine is comforting. It’s been so long since I touched him and my body remembers it as if it were yesterday.
It takes no time for us to be seated, which is a relief, and takes even less time for us to order our drinks and food.
This is so strange.
I haven’t seen this man in so long and here he is, sitting before me. I take note of the weight he’s lost and the muscle tone he’s gained. There are a few white hairs peppering above his ears, but you can hardly tell as his hair, which he’s cut short, is a light blonde naturally. I used to love tugging on his long hair. I wonder why he’s had it cut short.
Maybe a new girlfriend prefers it?
I wonder how many lovers he’s had since we parted. Did our parting tear him up as much as it did me?
“I see your love of good food has changed.” Isaac comments after we order. “Salad, Elle, really?”
“I’m not eighteen anymore, Isaac. I need to look after my body.”
His eyes give my body a sweep and I note the way his pupils dilate instantly. “You look good.”
“Thank you.” I respond because I don’t know how else to. “Is your dad still Head Teacher?”
“Of course, retirement is still a way off for him.”
Grin. “Good.”
We fall into silence, both of us
unsure of what to say. This has suddenly become awkward.
“Are you still seeing that guy?”
I tense. “What guy?”
“The guy I met in the restaurant four years ago.”
I think back and bite on my lips as the memory replays through my mind. I’d gone with Damon for dinner in a restaurant in Cambridge and Isaac happened to be there.
“It’s only been six months, Elle.” The pain and anguish in his voice broke me. Still, to this day, the look in his eyes when Damon told him that we were dating makes my chest tingle in the worst way. “It’s only been six months.” He sounded so sad, so defeated and weak.
What’s worse is that I didn’t stop there. I stuck the knife in deeper. I remember exactly what I said and exactly how powerful and cruel I felt while I spoke. “You were right when you said that teenagers fall out of love easily.” I used his own fear against him, fear that I’d grow up and lose my love for him. His fear was that my love was childish and not real. It wasn’t the case, but I twisted that knife anyway. “I did. I grew up and realised that the man I was married to wasn’t the same man that I fell in love with. When I came to that conclusion, the love fell away to mourning. I got over that and moved on.”
I watched his face harden and set and, to be honest, I felt a deep satisfaction in hurting him. It killed me at the same time that it made me feel really good.
“I should have listened to my dad. I should never have gone after you.” And that’s when he pulled that metaphorical knife from his chest and plunged it into mine.
“I was never seeing him. That was Damon. He’s my best friend.” His answering look is one of confusion, so I clear things up for him. “He just said that to piss you off and because, well, you deserved it.”
Isaac leans back in his seat. His eyes linger on me; they give away nothing. “So who are you seeing?”
“Why are you so interested?”
Distinction: The Distraction Trilogy #3 Page 3