by A. E. Murphy
“Cerise?” Dane’s voice is louder. “When are you coming home? We surprisingly miss you. It’s insane. Christmas was…”
“It wasn’t the same without you.”
My hand roams over the swell of my bump and I wonder if I should tell them. Deciding it’s just too much information for one call, I speak to them of other things. Music, TV, the people I’ve met. We don’t talk about the suicide or the assault or the statement I had to give to the Police about that night. We talk like we used to. It feels amazing and by the end of the call I’m holding back tears.
I find Joy in the common area and hug her. “Thank you so much for making me do that.”
“Now just your parents and your man.”
I shake my head. “Not my parents, Sammy. She’s the only one who called. She’s the only one I’m calling back. What kind of parents don’t call or visit?”
“The shit kind.” Joy grins, taking her phone back. “One day at a time. Don’t overload yourself. Not unless you really want to.”
“I actually do.” I smile, rubbing my growing stomach again. “I’d like to speak to my sister.”
And speak to her I do, and for the entire conversation of her promises to dismember Thatcher, she doesn’t bring up Mum and Dad and I know they made their decision on me already. She’s just too scared to tell me. It hurts more than I’d like to admit but I’m in the perfect place to get the help I need and the comfort.
Though she does bring up one thing that breaks me; there’s a rumour that Lockhart has moved on. Not just to anyone, but to Rebecca. It’s as I sniffle down the phone that Sammy promises to dismember him too.
I don’t blame him for moving on… but why her? I know he doesn’t know about what happened so it’s not his fault. I don’t think he’d be with her if he knew.
Maybe I should call?
No. Not a chance in hell. He hasn’t called, so neither am I.
The Doctor from my first pregnancy check-up came back this morning to scan my belly. I got to see her this time on the fuzzy screen; she kept kicking. It was amazing, even though I couldn’t see it or feel it under my skin.
I asked about the damage I might have caused, but she told me there’s nothing physically wrong with her and I all but jumped for joy. The elation kind of joy, not Nurse Joy. I love using her name as often as I can; it’s such a happy name.
There’s no longer a reason why I feel I should stay.
After my appointment I head straight to Geoffrey’s office, only to find he’s not there but is enjoying a bit of peace and quiet in the greenhouse. I don’t think twice about joining him in there.
He’s clipping leaves from some kind of twisting tree when I walk in, closing the door behind me. It’s freezing outside.
His back is to me so I can’t be positive that he knows I’m here.
“Baby is fine,” I say, startling him.
He looks back at me over his shoulder and I notice the grey flecks in his hair are starting to come through again. I should tell him they suit him better than the dye he used. I should tell him to own his premature greying.
“That’s excellent news.”
“Yup.” I pull myself up onto the ledge, watching as he trims the tree. “I need to ask you something, but it’s embarrassing…” When he looks at me again I snap, “No, go back to chopping your tree.”
“We’re not in session. I don’t have my clipboard, my recorder…”
I chew on my lip. “Do you want me to leave?”
“No!” He suddenly blurts, his tone louder than usual. “No.” He softens his voice. “It’s fine; I was just letting you know that I can’t record the conversation.”
“Good,” I mutter and rub my face with my hands. “I don’t know… I mean…” Gah. How do I say this? “How long does it usually take people in my circumstances to have sex again? I mean…” His shoulders tense and I wonder if I’m even allowed to ask questions like this. “I’m sorry, I’ve made you uncomfortable. I asked Joy but she wasn’t sure.”
“Some women jump from bed to bed, looking to find the love and affection they crave in a man’s touch,” He mumbles, so quietly I have to lean closer to hear him. “Other women it triggers all of the bad feelings and the thought of sex is far from their minds.”
“Oh…” Then I ask, “So, what’s the right thing to do?”
He finally turns and my cheeks heat. Why couldn’t he have been a woman? Not that this would be any less mortifying.
His eyes drag across my body, as though worried I’ll bolt. He whips off the gloves he’s holding and comes closer, though not too close, just close enough to reach out and place a hand on my shoulder if necessary.
“What do you feel is the right thing to do?”
“If I knew that, I wouldn’t be asking.”
“Right,” he mumbles, scratching the back of his neck nervously. Why is he nervous? It’s making me nervous. “Well, have you… touched yourself intimately?”
Oh god…
“No, but I’m so… needy… all of the time.” I bite my lip and look away. “It’s got to be this.” My hands go to my steadily growing stomach. “The hormones are screwing with me. I’m just frantic constantly, but I’m scared. I’m scared one of the main reasons I want to leave is purely to scratch this itch. I’m terrified that I’ll try and have a break down and end up being hospitalised again.”
“You should try itching the scratch yourself.”
“You mean scratching the itch?” I giggle, nibbling on my lower lip. “I’m sorry I brought this up.”
“Don’t be sorry,” he chuckles and holds out a hand to help me down. “Come on, I need your help pinching this branch so I can get this rot from the base.”
I follow him to the small tree he was just pruning, glad of the subject change, and smile when he helps me pull on the gloves.
He reaches around me with his own hands and takes the small scissors. “Here.” He taps a thick branch that’s protruding from the soil. “Hold it here.”
We scrape the damp from the trees to help their growth.
“I think you’re ready,” he states and then corrects, “No. I know you’re ready.”
“Because I want to have sex?”
He laughs loudly. “Because you’re smiling, genuinely smiling, all of the time.”
“And because I want to have sex,” I jest, winking at him playfully. “Your job must be so awkward.”
He just chuckles but admits nothing. “Which means, now I feel your care is complete, I have a confession.”
My heart skips a beat about what it could be.
“I haven’t been entirely honest with you, but please, hear me out.”
I pull myself up onto the counter and tuck my hands between my knees. “Go on.”
“In order for you to recover in a way I deemed most suitable to you, I had to remove certain influences from your life.”
I’m not liking where this is going.
“Not that this influence was bad, but just that this influence is very dominating.”
“Why do I feel like I’m about to hate you?”
He squeezes my hand. “Your hate is a burden I’ll bear because my focus is on getting you healthy and my methods have worked.” I accept his help off the worktop and follow him inside. We don’t speak until we reach his office and he hands me a large brown envelope. “As of tomorrow morning, you’ll be officially discharged. Let me know how you want to leave.”
“Privately,” I say. “I don’t want anybody to know I’m coming. It’s going to sound weird but I just kind of want to sneak into my apartment, sleep in my bed and then just wake up and be there.”
“I understand that. Nothing says ‘got back from rehab’ like a thousand people and a huge banner. Plus, I think you need to speak to the father of that little bundle before anybody else tells him first.”
Speaking of the father of my child, I rip open the envelope and move towards the door.
Then I double back and throw my arms arou
nd Geoffrey Foreman.
He holds me back gently and surprisingly kisses my temple. “You’re an amazing woman, Cerise Branch. Don’t lose your sparkle.”
“You are literally the nicest person I know. Stop working so much,” I respond, still hugging him. “And I forgive you for lying to me about Tobias.”
“Thank you.” He gives me another squeeze and releases me to skip to my room, holding the envelope tight to my chest.
Lockhart called every day, sometimes twice.
He visited every day in the first two weeks but then that stopped, likely because he realised he wasn’t allowed, so what was the point?
He never stopped thinking about me. He never stopped fighting for me.
Now I just need to make sure that he never stopped loving me.
There’s this moment of panic as I raise my hand to knock on his mother’s door. I hesitate because what if he’s not happy to see me? I wish I’d chosen a better day to leave.
I don’t know why he has to be here of all places.
I don’t know why I didn’t call first.
I suppose I didn’t want to give him the chance to give me an excuse, but now I have to deal with his parents too and that’s so hard.
What if I’m not ready? What if I faint or humiliate myself?
Why didn’t I wait?
In fact…
That’s what I’ll do.
I’ll wait.
“Coward.” I mutter to myself and turn back to the door, ready to knock again, but yet again I turn away from the door.
I have to tell him now, because if I don’t somebody else will and that’s not fair on him. I should have called and told him sooner but I’m a coward.
Plus it wasn’t in the best interests of my healing.
But what about Lockhart’s? How did he feel when he found out about Thatcher? I don’t know because I didn’t fucking call him and address it.
“Shit, I can’t do this.” I look up at the sky and pray for some kind of divine intervention.
I get it when the door opens behind me.
I turn, my eyes like a rabbit in headlights. “Drake?”
“Cerise?” He looks as startled as I feel. “Oh my God. Does he know you’re here? No of course he doesn’t. He’d likely have chained you to him by now. Come in.”
“No!” I blurt, my heart racing in my chest. “I should… I’m panicking. I shouldn’t panic.” Then I laugh a little; it’s equally as nervous sounding as I feel. “Could you get him for me, but quietly? I need to talk to him.”
“Of course.” He nods, his aqua eyes so warm and caring. Then he suddenly pulls me into a bear hug, squishing my face against his chest. “It’s great to see you looking so well.”
Then he’s gone, closing the door just to the jamb behind him.
I have time to flee but I don’t. Seeing Drake gives me hope for a happier reunion than what I planned in my head.
I follow the line of the cobblestone driveway with my eyes. It’s like a maze and I pretend I’m lost in it. Safe from the world.
Until I hear footsteps and I fly out of the maze and turn towards the door that’s slightly ajar.
It opens, slowly, and at first his face is set in a scowl, no doubt at being disturbed. He hates being disturbed.
Then it changes. It softens in such a delicate way that I have to bite on my lip to not cry. His eyes glow with disbelief and he inhales a sharp breath.
“Tob…” I start to say, but he clears the distance between us and locks his lips to mine.
I lose myself better than ever before. My arms lock around his neck as his lock around my back, one hand gripping my lower spine, the other cupping the underside of my hair. Making it impossible for me to flee. Not that I’d try.
He’s consuming me, his taste, his scent, his touches.
I’m backed into the soft marble wall beside the door and his hands drift to my hips. He doesn’t grind himself against me like he normally would. He doesn’t fondle areas that he shouldn’t in public like he normally does. He just kisses me, forever yet not for long enough.
Pulling away, he rests his forehead on mine and at the same time we both say, “I’m sorry.”
“Why are you sorry?” He asks. “You did nothing wrong.” His hand cups my face, his thumb tenderly stroking beneath my eye. “I failed you.”
Of course he thinks that. I allowed it.
“No.” I grip the lapels of his suit jacket. “You didn’t fail me… I failed myself. I was in over my head and I forgot how to swim.”
“I should have noticed.” He frowns, kissing me again, leaving his lips to linger for a moment. “I did notice but I just kept thinking of everything it might be instead of considering it could be anything as bad as it was.”
“Please,” I beg. “Don’t talk about it. Not here.”
“Right.” He moves back, just enough to give me space and look me in the eye. “I can’t believe you’re here.” I laugh when he nuzzles my neck, inhaling deeply against my skin and folding me in his arms. “I never thought I’d see you again.”
“I want…” I think about what I need to say. “I want to tell you about what happened that night. I mean I know you know. Who doesn’t know?”
“You don’t have to.” Now he does pull away, completely, leaving me feeling cold. He pushes his hands through his raven hair, slicking it back. It’s longer since the last time I saw him, which feels like such a lifetime ago. He’s neglected cutting it and I can’t help but wonder if that’s also because of me. “After seeing the video, I’m not sure I could stomach hearing it from you.”
He saw the video.
He saw the video.
“It leaked?”
“No! I made sure of that.”
“Then… how did you see the video, Tobias?” I snap, putting my hands on my hips. “How? Why?”
“It was sent to me first,” he admits, through a sneer.
“But the Police have it. I had to make a statement. I don’t understand.”
“We’ll talk about this,” he says softly, scanning my face and registering my distress. There it is, that look, the one that terrified me. “But not here.”
He’s seen the video. My stomach twists with the thought, my body tightening painfully.
“It’s one thing knowing about it,” I hiss, “but you’ve seen it.”
“The thought of what happened to you makes me feel murderous.”
“No shit. Think how I feel. I was in the fucking room when it happened,” I snarl, losing my cool. Kicking in my breathing, I try to calm myself. This is just too much. “I wish you hadn’t seen it. I don’t know what to do with that. I don’t know what’s worse! How’d the Police get it?” Then it dawns on me. “You gave it to them?”
“I entrusted it to a very close friend who took on your case.”
“My case? Did you think to ask me about any of this?”
His eyes darken. “He’s not getting away with what he did to you, Cerise. I won’t allow it!”
I laugh coldly. “No? That’s not your decision to make!” I’m getting nowhere so I ask the thing that I should have asked before I kissed him. “And what of Rebecca? I’ve heard you’ve been cosying up to her?”
He winces but doesn’t reply; nor does he deny that he’s been with her intimately.
“I had hoped they were just rumours.”
“It’s not what you think.” He snatches my hand and pulls it to his chest. I feel his heartbeat thrumming against the tips of my fingers. “I belong to you. I am yours. You own me. This heart is yours. My soul is yours.” I try to pull away but he holds me tighter. “Everything I’ve done, I’ve done to keep you safe. You have to trust in me that much.”
“I hardly think fucking another woman while I’m rocking back and forth in a fucking asylum is keeping me safe.” I finally yank free, rubbing my scar through my large jacket subconsciously.
“I haven’t!” He presses me into the wall again. “I haven’t fucked her. It’s not like th
at…”
“Then what’s it like? Explain it to me!”
“What on earth is all of this yelling?” Liz’s voice carries around the corner and I know she’s now standing in the doorway. I can’t yet see her and I hope I don’t have to. I wonder what she thinks of me; she was always so kind.
Unfortunately, it’s not her I see first and my heart breaks.
“What are you doing here?” Rebecca shrieks at me after stepping around Liz and into view, her tone scratchy and high-pitched to my ears. She looks at Lockhart, who looks moments away from losing his patience. “What is she doing here?”
“She is here whenever she wants to be.” Liz steps into view, taking my side and placing a hand on my wrist.
I’m glad she’s got my back but I’m fucking furious that he didn’t say anything. I feel so blindsided.
“Well don’t I feel stupid?” I laugh coldly, glaring at Lockhart. “You could have warned me before you shoved your tongue down my throat, Jesus fucking Christ.”
Rebecca’s eyes narrow and her jaw drops as she looks at Lockhart and then at me. Her eyes bounce between us like ping pong balls. “Is she serious? Are you serious?”
“Go inside, Rebecca. This doesn’t concern you,” Lockhart bites out, his eyes on mine, translating something I can’t decipher through my rage.
“Like hell it doesn’t!” She squeaks. “You’re my partner. She’s your ex. I pull rank here.”
“Is she for real?” I say quietly, scanning his face, wishing he’d protest. “She’s your partner? You’re together?”
“Oh boy,” Liz says, still holding onto my wrist. “Come on, Cerise, come inside. I’ll make us both some tea.”
“Thank you, Liz, but I don’t think that right now I can stomach it.”
She sighs softly and looks at her son. “Fix this.”
“I’m working on it,” he mutters then licks his bottom lip but remains silent.
When I realise he’s not going to talk I shake my head, slide my hand from Liz’s and snarl, “I’ll make it easy for you. Don’t come near me again.”
“Wait,” he snaps, but I don’t because fuck him.
“Toby!” Rebecca whines as he follows me down the driveway.
Toby? What the fuck?