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Matt.
Charlotte.
Anyone.
I have been staring at my screen for what feels like hours trying to make sense of the five-year gap in my resume and how I was going to somehowbridgethat gap with no actual experience. I’m sitting in Will’s office, when the sound of slamming cabinets breaks me out of my concentration. I’m out of my seat before my brain can communicate to the rest of my body that I needed to approach the kitchen with caution.
My feet propel me towards the kitchen as Will rips his tie from his neck and throws it aggressively towards the floor just as he slams a bottle of alcohol onto the counter so hard I’m shocked it didn’t shatter under the force. I jump, a tiny squeak coming out of me, and his attention turns slowly to me. His eyes soften slightly but I can still see the hurt and anger lurking there. His hands are balled into fists and I notice a tremor move through him, making me believe that he’s so tense that he’s actually shaking. I bite my lip, mostly out of nervousness, but also in the attempt to try and appeal to another side of him. “Will,” I whisper. I take a tentative step towards him and his arm immediately shoots up towards me.
“No, Charley.”
“No?” I ask, my eyes widen in shock. I don’t remember Will ever not wanting me near him.If we are in a room alone together, we are touching.
That’s part of what got us into trouble in the first place.
“I’m too angry with you.”
“With…me? What did I do?” My heart begins to race, never having witnessed this level of anger and wondering what I possibly could have done to provoke him. This morning, Will and I couldn’t even get out of bed, our bodies clinging to each other like magnets as we went through waves of passion we’d never experienced together. I don’t think I’d ever come that many times in a short period.What happened between then and now?
He doesn’t answer; he simply drains the contents of the glass in front of him and I move towards him, not letting his half-heartednostop me.
He needs me.
“Hey,” I move so that I’m in front of him and I can stare at him straight on. “What’s wrong?”
“Just a long day,” he says, his eyes finding mine but his gaze doesn’t penetrate me like it usually does with blazing fire and passion.
No, his eyes are vacant.
Expressionless.
He tries to move out of my grasp and I stop him. “Stop that,” I tell him as I wrap my arms around him tightly. “Don’t walk away from me. Tell me what’s wrong.”
He’s tense in my arms, and my heart begins to accelerate even faster as I notice that he’s not putting his arms around me. Instead, I feel him pulling himself out of my grasp. “Charley, just…give me some space.” Against my better judgment, I let him go, allowing him to move out of the room without so much as a glance back at me.
Dr. Montgomery’s words ring in my head.“A lack of communication is poisonous to your marriage. It seeps into those tiny cracks that you think aren’t problems and rips them open creating monumental rifts in your marriage. It breaks down all of your strength until you’re left with nothing.”
No. No fucking way.
My feet are moving quick as lighting as I dart into his office, to find him seated at his desk with his head in his hands. I push myself through the room and move into his lap. I don’t think he even realizes I’m there until I put my hands on his cheeks to make him look at me. He gives me a small smile and I can see the glaze washing over his eyes.
Is he…he’s drunk?
“You’re so beautiful, Charlotte,” he says softly as he reaches out to touch my cheek. His hands move into my hair and begin to play with the strands. “I’ve never met anyone like you. And I just…had to have you. But you weren’t mine to have. I took you from someone else. You weren’t mine to look at—to touch—to fuck.”
Where is this coming from?I silence him, putting a hand over his mouth. “Stop it. Will, I am yours. I’ve always been yours to have.”
He shrugs and leans back in his chair. “He’s never going to give you up, Charley.”
“Who?” He gives me a look as he reaches for a glass sitting behind me. I stop his hand and bring it to my mouth letting his fingertips graze my bottom lip. “Tell me what’s going on.”
“Your husband—”
“Ex-husband,” I interrupt.
“Whatever he is. He’s not going to quit until he has you back. Or I leave you,” he says sadly. The thought makes my blood run cold.He’s thought about leaving me?“He did make that promise, remember,” he continues. “When he was ‘finished with us’ all you’d have left would be the money from the settlement. He may not turn me in, he may not tell anyone about our affair, but he’s going to do everything in his power to break us up. He wants us to be as miserable as he is, which means we don’t get to be together. Which means…I can’t have you.”
“You have me. I’m yours! You promised we were on the same side. We agreed we wouldn’t let anything turn us against each other.” The tears are already pouring from my eyes, hearing the love of my life express what sounds like defeat.
