Chapter Seventeen
Cold, hard silence.
That’s what filled the car on the ride from the airport to his parents house.
It’s what I’d been experiencing for a week now, since I’d made it clear I was buying tickets to go visit his parents, and he’d made it plain I wouldn’t be going alone.
Since the beginning of our relationship, I’d never experienced Bradley’s displeasure — until now.
I didn’t like it.
He seethed. And for the previous week, our bed had been filled with his anger and my determination, keeping us on opposite sides.
He hid it well around my mother and daughter, but in private, his words were brief and cutting. He made sure I knew how unhappy he was with my decision and I made it known that no matter how upset he was at me, I loved him. But that only seemed to make him angrier, adamant that if I loved him, I wouldn’t do this.
He was wrong. I knew if you loved someone, you did whatever you could to help them. You didn’t leave them drowning in their sorrows and everyone had left him alone for too long. I wouldn’t let him down too, even if he thought that’s what I was doing.
So I stared out the window as he drove, painfully aware that it’d also been a week since we’d had sex or even touched innocently. And I missed it. I missed him. But giving in wasn’t an option. I wouldn’t open my mouth and tell him to turn the car around, something I knew he hoped for.
Besides, his parents — his mother especially — were waiting for us. When I called to tell her that he and I would be coming for Thanksgiving, she had cried. Then, before I could say anything else, Bradley had asked to speak with her and walked off, shutting himself in his study.
I didn’t even get the chance to tell her that my daughter and mother weren’t coming.
The decision hadn’t been totally mine, as Bradley had insisted the situation wasn’t good to take my daughter into. It ended up all right because my mother decided to go visit my brothers instead. Annalina, eager to see her uncles and her old friends from school, insisted on joining her and even seemed excited. My guilt was my own since I never even had to ask my mother to take her along and I smiled brightly to hide my relief. This would be the first time my daughter and I didn’t spend a holiday together, yet she reminded me that we would have Christmas which, according to her, was “ten times better.”
As we drove pass the sign entering the town, I braved a look at him only to catch him glancing at me in the same moment.
“Making sure I’m still breathing?” I said that with a smile on my face and didn’t miss the slight quirk of his lips.
He looked away, but I continued staring at him until he sighed.
“I haven’t been here in twelve years,” he shared, tossing a quick glance at me before making a right turn off the brightly lit main street. “And it wasn’t because I’ve been avoiding my parents.”
I nodded, even though he wasn’t looking at me. “I know.”
He turned his head toward me, but he was peering out of my window. When he pointed, I directed my eyes that way as he slowed the car down and stopped in front of a gorgeous brick house.
When he spoke, I didn’t dare take my eyes away, afraid he’d stop talking.
“This is my house.” There was a pause, then he placed his hand on my shoulder, almost as if he needed me to anchor him while the words poured out. “I didn’t own it when…well, before.” His voice broke as he halted once more.
I felt sick then. This was the house he lived in with his family. I wished I could see his face, but I knew he didn’t want me to witness his pain. Since I brought him here, the least I could do was respect that.
He cleared his throat. “I had my parents buy it and paid them back for it later. It’s been sitting here ever since. I hired someone to dust and clean it once a week, but it’s been virtually untouched. I can’t make myself go inside it, sell it, or tear it down. It just…”
I lifted my hand and covered his, squeezing to say I got it; I understood.
And I did.
The house sat there, a tangible reminder of everything he lost, with all he and his wife and their son shared residing within the walls. And he couldn’t bear to look inside it, let alone get rid of the house itself. A possession he owned that he paid someone to take care of, reminding him every single time that money exchanged hands of the house sitting there. That his history was here.
A history I still didn’t know much about. I’d tried to look up information about the tragedy along with his name once his mother had given me her address and found nothing. I guessed that in a small town such as this, with everyone personally knowing him, they would’ve respected his privacy. Especially knowing him.
I almost let my guilt overcome my need to help him in that moment.
But I was his wife and he needed support. He had to face his demons before they ended up tearing us apart.
I hadn’t voiced that out loud; I didn’t think he needed to know the fears I had about our marriage. I loved him and I wanted it to work, but not if he wouldn’t let me in. This was a start.
Nothing else was said as he withdrew his hand, then started driving once more. A few minutes passed in a more companionable silence before Bradley pulled into a driveway.
Instead of getting out as I imagined we would, Bradley took my hand in his and turned to face me in his seat, frowning. “There’s something you should know. Well, two things.”
I know better than to respond by now so I wait.
“First, I’m not an only child. I have a sister who is two years younger than me. She will probably be here.” He lifted a brow as if I should say something, so even though I was surprised I merely nodded and he continued. “Second, my last name isn’t the same as my parents. I took my mother’s maiden name as my own after…”
By this point, I failed to really be shocked by anything Bradley said. It was obvious that his life had been split into two parts: before marriage and after death. Before Rebecca and after Rebecca. He’d done everything to distance himself emotionally, physically and otherwise. Changing his last name? Really? Who does that?
A man who didn’t want to deal with his feelings, that’s who. And if his reaction to my coming here was any indication, he still doesn’t want to deal with his feelings.
But, too bad, because he was about to face them head on.
~*~
There are moments in life when you know something has changed.
You don’t see it coming. You don’t know it’s going to happen.
But when it does…wow — you can’t help but be amazed.
Perhaps Bradley’s mother and father didn’t want to believe he would show up until he actually did.
When he walked through the door and into the living room where they sat, the air seemed to have been sucked out of the room.
I stood in the doorway behind him as he set down his bag, then straightened and remained still, facing them.
Nobody moved for what seemed the longest time, even if were only a few seconds, but my eyes were on Bradley’s back.
And his eyes were on the people across the room — his mother, his father, and his sister, I guessed — who stared back at him as if they couldn’t believe their eyes.
I saw the defensiveness of Bradley’s stance, then slowly, he relaxed his shoulders when they continued not to speak. With a slight turn, he looked back at me and held out his hand to me.
I stepped forward and put my hand in his. He interlaced our fingers, pulled me close to his side as if he needed my support, and looked back at the still stunned group of faces across the room with a smile. “We’re not late for dinner, are we?”
Nobody answered.
Instead, his mother stood up, putting down whatever lay on her lap, and rushed over to us as fast as she could without running. I stepped aside a moment before her arms wrapped around his neck and she sobbed into his neck. I couldn’t see his face as he reciprocated her hug, but as I glanced at the crumbling faces of his father and sister as they tried to hold back their own tears, anger is what I felt.
And when I heard him whisper ‘I’m sorry’ — which only made her sob harder — the ire inside me grew.
I wondered what sort of man I married and how someone whose family loved them so much could just leave them hanging for twelve years.
Twelve f*cking years with only phone calls being the way to connect.
And it pissed me off as I stood there watching him hug his mother who hurt as much as he did, knowing he’d made the pain of his wife and son’s deaths all about his own, seeming to have totally ignored the pain of his family.
I didn’t know if I had the right to feel as I did, but at least my feelings were honest.
Looking down at my hands, the affliction of tears that seemed to have taken over everyone else found its way to me, and I sniffled, swiping at my eyes.
“Lucy?” My head flew up at my name, my gaze connecting with his mother’s, who still had her arms wrapped around her son’s neck. “Thank you.”
I knew why she thanked me, but I also knew I didn’t deserve it.
“No need to thank me.” I moved my eyes from hers to his, lifting my chin as I glared at him. “After all, Bradley made it quite clear he never does anything he doesn’t truly want to do.”
His eyes widened at having his own words from prior to our wedding thrown back at him at the same time confusion became clear in his face. He didn’t understand why I was angry, but he would find out.
I just wouldn’t say anything in front of his parents.
“If you’ll excuse me?”
I turned and exited the room, not sure where I was heading, but needing to leave.