I step into the room behind my dad. My palms are sweating and my heart is racing. I feel a little light headed again.
“I’m John.” My dad introduces himself and the guy stretches his hand out to my dad, who accepts it. My eyes find Elle on the bed, fully dressed. It seems she’s taken the bandage off her head. She doesn’t meet my eyes. It looks like she’s avoiding them.
“I’m Silas,” the guy responds. “Elle’s partner.” I feel like I’ve just been kicked in the chest. It takes every ounce of me to not react in some way. He moves to me; his dark eyes seem wary as they meet mine. I robotically take his hand. “You must be Isaac.”
“That’s me,” I say, trying to keep my voice strong. All I can see in my head is him and her. Him on top of her. Him kissing her. I look at her but her eyes are pointing at her lap. “I’m going to bail. Dad?”
“No… no,” Silas interjects, raising his hands. “I’ve got to make a call anyway and move my car to a legal spot. I know you guys have things to discuss.” He moves over to the bed after that major hint and says something quietly to Elle. She smiles softly and tilts her head back to respond with a yes. He presses his lips to hers, hard, and I feel like vomiting. I don’t need this visual but I can’t look away.
I want to punch something.
“I love you,” I hear him say when they separate slightly.
“You too,” she responds and I’m done. Fucking destroyed. He kisses her again before straightening himself and strolling past us both with a quick nod.
“Thought you weren’t seeing anyone?” I snarl at the same time that my dad says, “I’m so glad you’re safe.” He elbows me in the side and shoots me a look.
Eloise looks at me with wide, frightened eyes. “I’m sorry. I lied.” Part of me wanted her to deny it and come up with an elaborate tale as to who he could be.
“Why the fuck did you lie?”
“Isaac,” my dad warns but I ignore him.
She doesn’t respond. Maybe she lied because part of her still wants me. It doesn’t make sense as to why she’d lie. Maybe she didn’t want to hurt me.
Why am I still hanging on to this?
Eloise
“Tell me.” He clips and runs a hand through his hair. John looks at the curtain as if debating whether or not to wrap himself in it to escape this.
“Isaac.” I hate that I’ve hurt him… again. “I’m sorry, but…”
“But?” He prompts.
“It’s… I don’t know. I don’t know what to say.” I genuinely don’t.
“Does he know that just thirty minutes before he arrived, we were asleep together?”
My muscles tense, flashes of the old Isaac that I didn’t like suddenly coming to life before my eyes. “You put your head in my lap and I comforted you.” Maybe it was a little more than that, but what does it matter? Nothing happened and we had just been in a serious accident together. Both of us were feeling a bit vulnerable. If it’s such an issue, I’ll gladly tell Silas about it and just explain that it wasn’t because of any harboured feelings for my ex-husband.
“You didn’t think to tell me that you have a fucking boyfriend when I was trying to shove my tongue down your throat?” His dad’s eyes shoot to him though Isaac ignores him. My lips tingle at the thought of the kiss that didn’t happen.
Maybe I won’t mention this part to Silas.
“You’re being irrational.”
“I’m being irrational?” He hisses and his dad shoots him another look, which he ignores.
“This is the reason I didn’t tell you.” I’m angry, so angry my aching body is trembling. I jab my finger at him. “Because I was scared you’d make the divorce a living hell.”
He heaves as if I’ve knocked the air from his lungs, his eyes round with realisation. “You’re getting remarried.”
“Oh my god!” I throw my hands up, forgetting about my broken wrist. I regret it immediately and cradle it against my chest. “No!” My head throbs angrily. I rub my temple with my good hand and close my eyes.
“Enough, Isaac!” John snaps, the finality in his tone reminding me of when we were in school and he’d tell us off. We listened when he used this tone. Isaac seems to be listening too. “She’s unwell.”
“Can you give me a moment alone with my wife?” Isaac asks him calmly. Almost too calmly.
I open my eyes and my vision blurs as tears fill them. Isaac stares at me for a long moment, his chest heaving. His blue eyes hold so much pain. It sends a chill through my chest and stomach.
This hurts more than I thought it would. I remember how badly I used to pine for this man, how badly I wanted him. Never did I think we’d be at this point.
“I should have called.” He says quietly as his dad leaves the room and closes the door behind him. That one sentence holds so much regret and sadness to it.
A tear falls from his eye; he doesn’t wipe it away. He lets it trickle down his cheek and into his stubble. My heart gives a painful jerk but I can’t bring myself to say or do anything.
“You fucking ruin me, Elle.” He whispers and his words gut me.
“Isaac…”
“No.” He finally wipes away the tear and strolls over to my bag, which was salvaged from the wreckage. My heart continues throbbing a painful beat as he pulls out the envelope and empties the papers onto the table. “It’s done. It’s done.”
I hesitate, wanting to gather my thoughts so I can rectify this in some way. “I wanted to tell you… I…”
“Don’t.” He scribbles his name onto the dotted line, flips the page and scribbles again.
“Isaac.” I breathe, disbelieving of the emotion he’s showing. He’s never shown this kind of sorrow before, never. Not even when I left. It twists and pulls at my soul. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. That wasn’t my intention.”
He rights himself and runs a trembling hand through his hair. Sad, shimmering eyes scan me one last time before he turns towards the door. “There’s nothing left to say.” The palm of his hand rests against the door. He inhales a shuddering breath and pushes it open. “I hope you’re both happy together.”
“Me too.” I respond stupidly, my own voice mirroring his breathy tone, mostly because my mind is a jumbled mess and it was an automatic response.
I press my fingers to my quivering lips when he leaves the room without looking back. My eyes find his signature on the papers and the pain that tears through me is almost unbearable.
I want to sob. I want to scream. I want to break something.
I don’t though, because I’ve done all of that. That girl isn’t me anymore. I’m stronger than that. I’m already over Isaac. I’ve already grieved this marriage.
So why does this suddenly hurt so badly?
Isaac
“Let’s go,” I say to my dad, unwilling to look him in the eye.
He’s about to argue and I know he wants to see Eloise. Fortunately for me, after a brief moment’s deliberation, he follows me out of this godforsaken ward.
“What happened?” He asks as we make our way through the maze of hallways in search of the elevators.
“Nothing worth mentioning.”
“Isaac…”
“Don’t.”
“Did you still think she’d come back to you?” He asks quietly and then his tone becomes bitter. “Clearly she doesn’t love you and hasn’t loved you for a long time. She did abandon you after all.”
“It wasn’t like that,” I grit, wishing I’d never lied to him in the first place all of those years ago.
“I’m not saying I’m holding it against her. She was just a kid.” I tense at his words. I used to hate it when he referred to her as a kid. I still do. To me she was never a ‘kid’. Sure she was young, but she was mature and her body… it was all woman. It’s even more womanly now.
“Leave it alone,” I plead, wishing we could just move on from it. The pain in my chest doesn’t appreciate the reminder.
“You still love her.” He accuses as I pr
ess the button to call the elevator.
“I fucked it up.”
“You both fell apart…”
“No.” I shake my head and let out a humourless laugh. “You don’t get it.”
He scratches at his white beard. “Then help me understand.”
I open my mouth, ready to take responsibility, ready to admit my wrongs, but I can’t. “It doesn’t matter anymore.” It truly doesn’t. I’m getting divorced and Eloise has a new partner.
Things are moving on.
We are moving on.
I have to let go. There’s literally no other option for me now.
Have I really been holding on for all of these years, hoping she’ll come back to me?
“Hey, Isaac!” A voice yells after us.
“I’ll meet you in the car,” my dad sighs when he sees Silas chasing us down.
What the fuck does he want? My dad leaves before he can find out. I stand stupidly in the middle of the stairwell, waiting for Silas to talk.
He stops in front of me. “Thank you.”
Thank you? “For what?”
“If you didn’t handle the car the way you did, things would probably have been a lot worse.”
His expression, his voice, his stance… it’s genuine. There’s no malice or hidden tone to his voice. Shouldn’t he be angry that she was in my car at all? Shouldn’t he be seething with jealousy and hatred for me? I am her husband after all.
He extends a hand and even though I don’t want to, I take it. I don’t know what to say, though. I should respond but I don’t know how.
We stare at each other for a moment before releasing the shake. “I should get back to her.”
That’s right; he gets to go back to her. Not me. My eyes burn and the lump in my throat slides higher and higher. This is why he’s not jealous. This is why he doesn’t hate me. He’s won; he has her; she’s his. Not mine.
And suddenly the skies open and an epiphany hits me. I realise my past mistakes. I realise just how rotten and how unstable I was. I treat Elle like my property instead of my partner. I acted like a child. There’s no excuse.
Silas deserves her.
I clear my throat and nod my head to him. “Take care of her.”
“I’ll give it my best shot,” he says with a warm smile. “I’ll probably see you at the wedding?”
Wedding? “Hayley’s wedding?” He nods in reply. Doubtful. I bet I won’t even receive an invitation. “We’ll see.”
He steps back and we both move to the side as three men pass us, chatting loudly.
Silas gives me a wave before ascending the stairs after them and disappearing through the doors that lead to the ward Eloise is on.
I hate him purely because he seems like such a nice guy. Eloise deserves nice. She deserves the best.
And she loves him… She loves him.
She loves him.
I rub my chest and close my eyes for a moment. The pain lingers; the hurt stays.
She loves him.
Fuck!
I don’t have a chance.
Chapter Eight
Eloise
“I didn’t know you could draw so well,” I say to Silas as he moves a sharpie pen over my thick, white arm cast. I watch as the shape of an owl takes form over my forearm. He’s been drawing it for almost twenty minutes now.
“I’m a man of many talents.” He grins and slides his free hand up my thigh.
I knock it away when the door opens and my mum walks in. “Your dad just left.”
Silas exhales a breath of relief. Mum doesn’t see it but I do and I don’t blame him for feeling relieved. My dad is an arsehole.
“Good.”
“Elle…”
“He’s a nightmare,” I interject before she can defend him. “He has been so mean and stuck up.”
My mum winces but again she doesn’t defend him. “I made lunch.”
“Ooh, yay.” I grin and Silas lifts himself off my bed before pulling me up beside him. “What are we having?”
“Egg and rocket pizzas.” She responds and checks her watch. “Hurry down. I’ll make coffee.”
Silas wraps his arms around me from behind. I’m actually surprised he’s still here. I know he has an important interview tomorrow that he has to prepare for. Ever since he arrived yesterday he has been nothing but sweet, attentive and patient, even when my dad was belittling him and openly ignoring him.
I really don’t understand what my dad’s problem is. He’s such a mean person sometimes.
Silas has had to deal with my moods too. I’ve been quite ignorant and standoffish. I haven’t meant to be; I just haven’t been able to focus since Isaac left the hospital yesterday. Whenever I think about it I get this tingle in my chest.
“You drink too much coffee,” Silas points out unnecessarily.
“I’m aware of my habits.” Again my tone is flat, though I tried to be cheerful.
“We don’t spend enough time together. It’s wrong that it has taken me this long to discover such small things about you.”
We descend the stairs. “We’re both always busy and we’re okay with that.”
“We are?” He murmurs and now I’m wondering if it’s just me who has always been okay with the fact we rarely see each other. I wasn’t lying though; we are both always busy so we fit each other in when we can.
“In the dining room,” mum yells from the kitchen.
We enter and sit in the seats where the plates of food have been placed. It looks good. Silas thinks so too and winks at me.
“This must be your third cup and it’s not even eleven in the morning.” He states when Mum finally enters the dining room with coffee.
I raise a brow as I take my drink from her hands. “And?”
“It’s not good for you.”
“I’ll quit one day,” I try to joke but his frown tells me he is serious. “Chill, it’s fine.”
My mum looks between us both, her eyes wide and curious. I kick her under the table to try to get her to divert her attention. She grunts and moves her eyes to her plate.
The air in here just became thick with Silas’ intensity.
“So, Silas, you’re in your final year too?”
Silas nods and the conversation moves onto nicer things as we eat. Thankfully my coffee drinking habit isn’t brought up again.
My baby days are though. “Mum… he doesn’t want to see those.” Why must she show those bloody albums to everyone I bring home?
“Sure I do!” Silas grins and mum happily leads him from the dining room and probably into the living room.
“I’ll just clean this up then,” I sigh out loud and quickly gather the mess that remains on the table. I take my time clearing the dishes, which isn’t hard considering I have only one useable hand. Then I clean the table, purely because I don’t want to be in there listening to how ginger I was as a child and how cute.
This triggers a memory of when Judith told me she’d show me pictures of Isaac as a baby. She called it blackmail material to get out of homework. We never did get round to it. It was one of the many things she forgot about.
Speaking of which, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a picture of Isaac younger than twenty-six.
Why am I even thinking of such things? My partner, who I care deeply for, is in the other room right now. I should be thinking of him and his baby photos and our future together.
I dry my hands on a tea towel and enter the living room cautiously.
“Oh my god, is that chocolate?” Silas asks looking a little bit disgusted.
“It’s brown sauce,” I admit sheepishly, wishing Mum would just burn that photo. “I squirted it in my hair and shook. That’s why it’s on the walls.” I’m not saying I was a normal child.
Silas shakes his head, clearly amused. “Your hair was so orange!”
Here we go. I run my fingers through my hair and shrug. “I was adorable.”
“You looked just like that Scottish animated character.”
>
“She does, doesn’t she??” My mum beams at me. “She acted a lot like her too.”
“Whatever.” Dropping onto the couch, I cross my arms over my chest and frown as they laugh at my expense.
“You’re going to make such beautiful babies one day.” My mum’s tone is warm and longing. I hope she doesn’t expect that one day to be soon.
“Definitely, a blend of our skin tones and that red hair.” Silas adds absently and my stomach drops out of my arse.
My mum nods her agreement and they begin a full blown conversation on kids and how many he wants and what they’ll look like and who they’ll be more like.
Meanwhile… panic attack.
My entire body clenches and tenses painfully as I stare at a spot on the wall and zone out. I don’t know what it is about kids and babies that freaks me out so much. I just don’t want that in my future. Not yet anyway. I’m twenty-four for crying out loud!
It’s not until fingers waggle in front of my eyes that I snap out of my panic and take a deep, relaxing breath.
“Are you okay?” Silas looks concerned as he scans my face with warm eyes. “I said your name five times.”
“Must still be a bit woozy after the accident.” It isn’t a total lie as I don’t feel totally all there. I don’t want to admit that I was mentally freaking out over the fact that my mum and boyfriend were just planning any kids I probably won’t have.
“Do you want to lie down?”
I nod and accept his help. I don’t need it but I appreciate it all the same. Silas is helping to keep me grounded, all the while reminding me that life is what I want it to be. Life is what I’ve chosen to be.
If only I could get those dark blue eyes out of my head. They brim with tears and stab at my soul, tormenting me beyond my limits.
Isaac
“I think I’m going to stay away for a while,” I tell my dad and try to ignore the fact his face just fell. “I might take a break, go travelling when all of this is over.”
“You mean the divorce?”
I nod. “I just need to… find something.”
“Someone?”
Distinction: The Distraction Trilogy #3 Page 8