"I’m his wife."
I felt my heart drop to the floor and shatter into a million pieces. Alec and I were… we were nothing. And yet, why did this hurt so much? I could feel my face growing pale and I thought I might cry any second. I tried to compose myself. I had to act like I didn’t care. He’d told me so many personal things… and yet, he had conveniently left this one detail out. He was married. A rush of anger, both at myself and at Alec, came flooding into me right after I suppressed the urge to cry. I had been sad for a second… but now I was mad. Maybe he was a player. Maybe he regularly cheated on his wife with guests, like Gemma, Mary’s friend, and the brunette guest whose name I hadn’t bothered to remember. Maybe this was a game to him. Maybe I was a game to him. I felt myself become furious.
"Oh? He didn’t mention that he was married," I said calmly, trying not to let any of the emotion I was feeling show on my face. I saw Alec rub the bridge of his nose, sighing loudly. Yeah, because he’d been caught.
"Well honey, he is married. And now I need to speak to my husband, in private."
She grabbed his arm and led him away. He looked over his shoulder apologetically. But he followed her. He was married. Natasha wasn’t making it up, or making a joke. Alec was actually, truly married to a hot Russian woman. And he was following her into a private room to discuss personal matters. I felt my lower lip start to tremble. I gulped my entire beer in about thirty seconds, and asked Henry for another.
"Already?" He poured more Guinness into my pint glass.
"I met Natasha," I said. I hoped I wouldn’t need to explain why I was so hurt. "I could go for something a little stronger," I said, pointing to the vodka.
"Oh, shit. I had no idea she’d be here." He poured me a double of vodka, which I promptly shot back without hesitation. "Hold on," he said, and he left, disappearing into the back of the pub. A few seconds later, Mary was behind him. Before she could even say anything to me, I blurted it out.
"Alec is married? Is this some kind of sick joke?" I didn’t mean to sound angry with Mary, but it just came out. Alec hadn’t told me, fine, but surely my new best friend should have.
"It’s not what you think, Charlotte," she explained. She looked at Henry. "I’m sorry. I had no idea she’d show up tonight. She’s not a part of the picture anymore."
"He told me some of his deepest and darkest secrets tonight," I said quietly. "He left this one out."
"He married her because she was a Russian refugee. OK? Charlotte, she needed a green card. Yes, she may try over and over again to pursue Alec, but he’s never felt the same way about her. He only agreed to marry her to help her with her visa status here," Henry explained.
I let that sink in for a minute. He’d married her so she could stay in the country? But then, what were they doing privately in the back? Henry kept talking.
"It was years ago. They never see each other. Alec doesn’t think of her in that way. He only did it to help her. He felt like he was doing good in the world. He was repenting for… you know what."
"Here he comes," Mary said, turning me around. "Go talk to him. And good luck trying to explain to us again that you don’t have feelings for him. You just let on how you really felt, missy!" She shoved me forward, towards Alec. She was right. There was no point trying to deny it now.
"Hi," he said, morosely.
"Hi." I started to walk away. I didn’t trust my feelings.
"Can we talk? Outside, maybe?"
"Is your wife OK with that?"
"Charlotte… please. Natasha is gone."
I knew I was torturing him. But I just wanted to leave. This whole thing had freaked me out. I didn’t want to get sucked in to his games. For all I knew, he liked me as a friend, and only a friend. I was the one acting ridiculous.
"I have to go," I said, as I walked out and into the back, which was open to the wilderness.
I kept walking, past the tables, around the building, across a short field, and stopped in front of a small shed. Alec ran after me. I started running, as fast as I could in heels, trying to get away from him. I felt my eyes start to sting with tears. I couldn’t let Alec see me cry… and yet… I didn’t care. I didn’t care, because ironically, I was comfortable around him already. I’d let my guard down, and he was taking advantage of it. He grabbed me and spun me around.
"Charlotte… I’m so sorry. I should’ve told you."
"Henry and Mary filled me in, but yeah, you should’ve told me." I stood in front of the shed, panting.
"It’s just such a small and insignificant part of my life, I didn’t even think of telling you. It happened so long ago, most days I forget it happened. The only time I have to remember is when I fill out my tax forms," he explained. "She came here tonight to talk about some things dealing with some forms."
"She’s beautiful," I said, matter-of-factly. What was I saying? Why did I care if she was beautiful?
"She is, but she’s not right for me."
I stood leaning against the shed, arms crossed, looking at the ground. What was happening? Was I really mad that the man I had just met a month earlier was married to a woman for a green card? Why should I care? I was married too! If anything, I was a big, fat hypocrite.
"I shouldn’t be mad anyways. I mean, I’m technically still married too," I said.
"Yeah, you are." He looked down at me. "But I forgive you." He came closer. I felt my breathing become shallower.
"Why?" I whispered, looking up at him. He was perfect. His dark hair had gone unruly again, and his lips looked so luscious. He inched himself closer to me and I ceased to breath or move. I felt my knees go weak, and his scent was driving me mad. He smelled so good. It was unfair. He cupped my face in his hands. He was going to kiss me.
"Because everyone deserves a second chance," he said, quietly. Before he leaned down, I pulled away and began to walk away.
He was right, but I didn’t want him to know that. I didn’t want to accept the fact that this man, this sexy-as-hell Irish man, wanted me. I should not have had a beer and two shots in less than ten minutes. I did not want to make any rash decisions. I couldn’t do this. The whole Natasha incident had thrown me for a loop. I just wanted to go back to the party, forget the last hour had happened, and try to have fun with my friends.
Alec looked at me sadly as I went, and I waved goodbye. I paused in front of the back door, before going in.
"Please, don’t go," Alec begged. "Stay with me. This is—"
"This is nothing," I hissed, callously.
The door swung shut and the last thing I saw were Alec’s dark, pleading eyes.
PART FOUR
August 2014
I spent the next three weeks trying to avoid Alec like the plague. I saw Mary and Henry a lot, and I often hitched a ride to the pub with Mary, just to get away. Neither of them mentioned the party or what had happened with Alec. I didn’t want to talk about it, and they didn't push me for information. I spent my days reading (I’d gotten a library card and went into town every weekend, looking for an escape) and doing PR for the Parc. The business had doubled, and I was getting performance bonuses weekly. I saved all of the cash, not knowing what to do with it. I hoped I wouldn’t be stopped at the airport on my way home. It might be hard to explain the legality of a thick wad of British pounds when you were, in fact, American.
I emailed Harry, letting him know that I would probably be home in September. I figured three months was a long-enough escape. Besides… as much as I loved it in Wales, every day that passed meant there would be more to do when I went home. I paid my car payments online, and told Harry to continue making mortgage payments with our joint account. I’d missed doctors’ appointments, my father’s birthday, and numerous calls from a divorce attorney that Harry wanted me to talk to. I knew I’d have to leave soon, but I wasn’t quite ready to go. I’d been happier here than I’d been in years – maybe even the happiest I’d been in my entire life.
The evening of August 7th, three weeks after Mary�
�s party, I arrived in the dining room alone before anyone was there. I’d given up on getting to really know the guests who came and went; it was too hard to see them leave. It was easier to keep my distance. Forming attachments to people could only hurt you. I’d learned that the hard way.
A couple walked in arm-in-arm, waved at me, and sat at the complete opposite side of the table. I had no idea who they were – I didn't remember checking them in. It was probably for the better, anyways. I waited for Katie, who was bringing out the bread.
"Just so you know, the brunette woman is back," she whispered to me, as Alec strode in behind the very same brunette woman whose horse had run away about a month earlier.
I felt my blood start to boil. How dare he? I’d barely seen him since the party, and he had the audacity to show up with this bimbo? She really did look like a bimbo to me. She was tall and extremely thin, with a tiny waist that she accentuated by belting her shirts, and very, very large breasts that she also accentuated with opening the top three buttons of her blouse. Her hair was coiffed into a tall pouf atop her head and, in my opinion, she wore way too much makeup.
"That’s fine. Alec can do whatever he wants," I said, hoping my play on words would make her laugh. It did.
"Whatever, missy. I know it bothers you. Apparently, she came back to see Alec."
I sat up straighter, brushed off my forest green sweater, and patted my curly hair down a bit. I’d stopped blow-drying it daily, because the humid Welsh weather actually made it less frizzy. My curls had never looked so good. My hair had gotten longer, so the curls actually framed my face better now. I noticed the brunette woman sit down next to Alec, and I looked away, clearly pissed.
"Like I said… Alec can do what he wants. We’re just friends," I explained, trying not to strain my voice too much. I knew it sounded disingenuous.
Katie looked down at me as she handed me more bread. I could tell she didn’t believe me. We watched Alec and this woman talk and laugh together. I heard Katie scoff and she shook her head.
Katie was interesting. I thought she hadn't liked me at first, but after I got hired we became close. I was helping her online date, and she didn’t have a lot of experience with computers. She was young, probably in her late 30s, with short, black hair, pale skin, and brown eyes. Her dry British accent was hilarious.
"You’re much prettier than she is," Katie said, walking back into the kitchen. "At least your breasts are real," she chortled, scowling at Alec as she left.
I sat there in silence, avoiding eye contact with Alec. If that was the kind of girl he liked, I didn't know why I was so upset. All of a sudden, the brunette squealed with laughter at something Alec had said.
"Oh Alec, stop! That’s just too much," she said, in a throaty voice. She was American. And from the sound of it: also Southern. Helen and George had joined us for dinner, and a few more guests came in at the last minute. Mary and Henry sat across from me. I didn't dare look at them. I'd give myself away.
"Scarlett, I’m so glad you were able to join us again, before you head back to Georgia," Helen said, and I was grateful that her voice was sharp and loud. I guessed that Helen wasn’t fond of Scarlett, either.
"Well, how could I pass up such delicious food and such wonderful accommodations?" She said, glancing at Alec flirtatiously.
I gripped my fork harder than I thought possible, clenching my jaw. I looked up, and Alec’s face was blank. I watched him for a reaction, but there was nothing. However… he was good at hiding his feelings. He’d been laughing with her just a moment ago. All of a sudden, he looked over at me. Surprise came over his face, and I realized I was glaring at him. I softened my features, cleared my throat, and looked down.
"How long do you think you’ll stay?" Henry asked Scarlett, and I shot him a grateful look. Henry and Mary had my back. That I knew.
"Only tonight, so I’m hoping to make the best of it," she said, a little too seductively in my opinion. I saw her look at Alec again. He smiled back at her.
I couldn’t take it any longer. I’d rather starve than watch these two all night, even if it was nothing. It literally made me sick. I’d lost my appetite. I felt like I might vomit at any moment. I pushed back from the table, a little too loudly, and stood up.
"Excuse me, but I’m feeling a bit sick to my stomach," I said loudly.
I shot a look of pure hatred towards Alec as I walked out. Everyone remained silent. I could feel the tension in the room, but I didn’t care. I just had to get out. I didn’t even care if I would starve tonight. I could always go to the kitchen after dinner and scrounge for something. I doubted I would be hungry. I prayed I wouldn’t hear Scarlett’s loud voice in the hallway tonight. That would mean she was going back to Alec’s room, and that thought sent me over the edge. I slammed the dining room door shut, and stormed down the hallway to my room. I knew I’d made a scene, but I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t believe her. I was so mad at Alec. I was so mad at myself for caring about Scarlett and Alec.
The more I calmed down, the more I realized that I wasn’t mad at him; I was mad at myself for being mad at him. I had no right to be upset. We were nothing. I mean, we were kind of friends, but we weren’t in a romantic relationship. I hadn’t staked a claim on him. I wasn’t even sure if I was ready for that. Sure, something had shifted in the last few weeks. I could feel it. We’d both realized our connection the night of Mary’s party. It was why I'd flipped out when I found out Alec was married. It was why I'd stormed out of dinner just now. I slammed my door shut.
I grabbed my jacket, put on my wellies, and left again, making sure to get out and into the air quickly. I needed some fresh air – the house was stifling. I walked down the driveway in almost complete darkness. It was starting to get darker earlier now, even though it was still technically summer for another month. I quickened my pace, wanting to get away from Scarlett, from Alec… I couldn’t bear to think of what they might do after dinner. I heard heavy footsteps behind me. I started to jog. I hoped it was Alec, but then I changed my mind. I wasn’t sure if I could hide my anger.
Henry called out my name. I stopped underneath one of the old gas lamps. It was almost completely dark now.
"Charlotte, wait." He jogged up to me. "Damn. For such a small girl, you sure walk fast," he said, panting.
"Why did you come after me?"
"Because… I know how you’re feeling. Mary went through the same thing. The agonizing torture, waiting for me and my first wife to officially end things."
"What do you mean?"
"Oh, come on. You’re mad. Seeing Scarlett flirt with Alec is killing you. It’s the same reason you ignored him at our party a few weeks ago after you found out about Natasha, and it’s the same reason you just stormed out of dinner. You have feelings for Alec."
"I do not," I said quietly.
"Charlotte… please. I’m your friend."
"I don’t have feelings for him. The one night I thought we could maybe be friends, I found out he was married. Every other interaction has been unpleasant in some way, so you’re crazy for accusing me of having feelings for him. We're just friends, if that."
"Romance is built on friendship, which is the sturdiest foundation of all. Stop fighting it. He obviously has feelings for you. You should know that by now."
I felt my heart stop.
"Really?"
"Open your eyes, Charlotte! He doesn’t like Scarlett. She, like Natasha, is pursuing him. He has no interest in her. He has no interest in either of them. He told me so. He likes you. He wants to pursue you," he said quietly, before jogging back to the house.
I stood there alone for a few minutes. I guess I wasn’t surprised. Mary had said the same thing weeks ago, and I'd felt it at the party. As much as I denied it, I felt the same way. Seeing him with Scarlett was torturous. Henry was right. Alec had sat next to Scarlett all night, and yet every time I looked up, he was looking at me. He’d smiled at her and laughed with her, but it seemed strained.
Oh,
my god. Henry was right. That realization struck me like a bag of bricks. And the even crazier thing was… I did have feelings for Alec. I’d known it since the very first day, deep down. I’d come to this place to get away from everything, and I'd found something in return: Alec. I’d been denying it since I arrived, but Alec was the best thing about Wales. Alec was the reason why I was so happy here. Alec made life here worthwhile. He made everything worthwhile.
I slowly walked back to the Parc, processing everything, and went to my room. I sat on my bed, fidgeting with my hands and bobbing my legs up and down. As if on cue, I heard a soft knock on my door. I knew it was Alec before I even answered the door.
I opened the door and he stood there, looking like he’d surrendered. His hands were in his pockets, and his black sweater brought out his dark, puppy-dog eyes. He was pacing back and forth. I couldn’t tell if he was angry or sad. It could be either one with him. I didn’t say anything. I didn’t know what to do. I still had so much to figure out before I even considered a relationship, let alone this relationship, which felt like a big deal. This wasn’t some vacation fling.
We stood there for a while, eyes locked. He reached out and grabbed my hand. I felt my whole body loosen up at his touch, and I fell forward into his arms, in a warm embrace. I buried my face in his chest, and we hugged for a while, not saying anything. He stroked my back and my eyes fluttered shut. I felt like I was home. Maybe I was. Maybe Alec was home for me.
"What is this?" I asked. It was the only thing I could think to ask. Everything had happened so suddenly, and so effortlessly. No words were said. There was some sort of understanding between us, some sort of connection. It scared me. What was this feeling, here, between us? I couldn’t place it. I’d never felt this way about anyone, let alone someone I’d met six weeks ago.
"I’m not sure," he answered. "All I know is, I want to be your friend, and comfort you. I want you to know that I think you’re beautiful, and funny, and kind. You’re brave, Charlotte. You’re so brave for leaving everything behind."
The Foretelling (Charlotte Bloom #1) Page 17