Chapter 9: Shattered confession

Soft afternoon light passed slowly through giant windows of the living room onto the gleaming floor. I smoothed out the edge of my blouse on the plush cream sofa, waiting anxiously for Dan, my wonderful gay friend. It had been years since he and I last met.

I came close to leaping to my feet at the doorbell. I smoothed my skirt, pulled open the door, and was immediately confronted with Dan's broad, wicked grin.

"Lila!" he bellowed, sweeping me into a bear hug. "You look amazing, as always. Though you might have given me some warning that you were still among the living sometime within the last year!"

I laughed sheepishly. "I know, I know. Sorry, Dan. Things have just.been complicated."

He moved back, eyes locking with mine as hard brown ones scanned my face. "Complicated, huh? We'll see about that. But just let me in for now, unless you'd rather have the neighbors believe I'm harassing you on the porch."

I shifted over, and Dan came into the living room, lighting the room as effortlessly as sunlight. He always was: untroubled, self-assured with irrepressible charm. He sat back against the couch and thumped the empty space next to him.

"Now," he said, once I sat next to him, "spill the dirt. And don't even consider skimping on the good stuff."

I didn't know what to say. "Well, married life is… okay," I tried half-heartedly.

Dan's eyebrow skyrocketed in amazement. "Okay? That's it? Come on, Lila, I'm the one you’re talking to. You can’t lie to me. I can pretty much read the unhappiness written on your face. Tell me."

His straightforwardness caught me off guard but Dan was the one person I could always be absolutely truthful with. I took a deep breath, and the words came tumbling out.

"It's tough, Dan. Ethan is just so closed off. I feel like I'm constantly reaching for him, and he's always pushing me away. And no matter what I ever do, it's never good enough. It’s like I don't even exist to him.”

Dan's face grew softer, his teasing tone giving way to one of genuine concern. "Lila, that sounds awful. Have you talked to him about how you've been feeling?"

"I've tried," I said to him. "But he either cuts me off or won't even talk about the topic. And then other moments when he does talk, he just goes on about how unimportant this marriage is to him.".

Dan let out a sigh and stroked his face. "Listen, I'm not going to sit here and pretend I know what you're experiencing, because I don’t. But what I know is that marriage is a partnership, not whatever this is."

"I know," I replied softly. "But I won't give up. I made a promise, and I'm trying to keep it."

Dan looked at me for a really long time. "That's great, Lila. Truly. Just don't get lost in the process, okay? Promise me that."

I nodded, but I wasn't so sure I was promising something I intended to do myself.

We talked a little longer, the discussion then falling to less serious topics as Dan regaled me with stories of some of his adventures. It was a welcome distraction, and for the first time in weeks, I laughed.

In a while Dan looked at his watch and got up, sighing. "I'm afraid I'll have to cut this short, my flight is for tomorrow and I haven't even started packing."

I walked him to the door. On the porch, Dan smiled and faced me. "Be good to yourself, okay? And this time, don't be a stranger."

"I won't," I said with a smile.

He leaned in to me and kissed me on the cheek. But as he was entering his car, relief and lightheartedness became horror.

Ethan's dark car coasted into the driveway, the low rumble of its engine sending shivers down my spine. My heart flipped in my chest at what he would say. I slipped in, shut the door softly, and waited for him to come in. When he finally came in, his expression was colder than it had been in weeks. His jaw was set, his eyes shadowed by something I couldn't quite recognize. Anger? Disgust? Jealousy?

"Ethan," I said, my voice wary, "you're home early."

He didn't answer. He just brushed past me, his perfume filling my nostrils. I turned around to go after him, my heart pounding. Something was wrong, that much was clear.

"Ethan, are you okay?" I insisted, this time more sternly, as I followed him.

He turned around, his scowl freezing me in place. "Did you have a nice afternoon with your boyfriend?" he sneered, each statement oozing venom.

It shut me up for a moment; then I laughed. "Boyfriend?" "Ethan, Dan is…."

"Save it," he cut in, his voice slicing through the air. "I don't require your explanations. Just don't invite your fuck buddy over to my house again."

My jaw dropped. "Ethan, that's not fair! Dan is just a friend and he’s…”

I said, save it!" he snarled. He moved toward me, step by step, each step calculated to bring us closer and closer and shut the distance. Horror-stricken, I backed away. The fierce heat of his eyes closed the walls around me.

I backed away one step for every step he took forward until I stood with my back against the wall. I panted more and more wildly as he towered over me, his face inches from mine. The first warmth of his breath against my skin was like a static shock, the air that enveloped us thrumming with tension. I should have been angry, but my body betrayed me by sensing how near he was, the fiery mixture of rage and whatever other emotion simmered in his eyes.

He stared at me for a moment, then his lips moved to skim up my neck, I panted wildly as desire filled me. But before I could get lost in his actions, he pulled back and caged me in.

"Explain to me," he muttered threateningly, "why you would marry me when you already have a boyfriend. I’m richer than him, isn’t it? That's the only reason you settled for me instead of him. Typical gold-digger stunt."

His words stung, but I refused to let him see how much his words hurt me. I straightened up, forcing myself to meet his gaze. "Ethan, I am not a…"

"Don't," he growled again, cutting me off in mid-sentence. "Don't even try to deny it. Do yourself a favor and tell my mom that you want a divorce." His voice was flat, and his words, monotone.

I shook my head. My voice trembled in a tremolo, but it was firm. "I don't want a divorce, Ethan."

He laughed, a hard, unfunny sound. "Why not? Because you love my money so much that you want to stay? Even when you know that I don't, and never will love you? Why do you want to stay, Lila? Why? Knowing this awful marriage of ours will never work?”

“Because I love you!" The words tumbled out of my mouth, and could not be silenced. "I love you, Ethan," I gasped and begged with my eyes for a flash of comprehension to show in his.

Something passed over his face for a moment, as if I had taken him by surprise. But at the same time, his guard was back in position and his eyes blazed afresh.

“Don't be stupid," he sneered, "I am going to be your Romeo, Lila. Get out of fantasy land and wake the fuck up!”

The words were a knife to my heart, each one cutting deeper than the last. I stood there, frozen as he turned and walked away. His footsteps clattered up the stairs. The hot tears I had fought so hard against finally ran free, and I fell to the floor.

I cried there, softly, not noticing time slipping by. His words cycled through my head with full force.

"Don't be stupid,"

But then again, wasn’t love supposed to render us foolish? Wasn’t love supposed to make us take stupid actions?

I relived the moment in my mind over and over again, every time more painful than the last. I had given him my heart, and he had flung it back at me. I was maybe a fool to love him, but if I was, then I was a fool who was not going to give up yet.

Hours later, my own tears had eventually dissipated, I wiped off the remaining wetness from my cheeks and stood up on shaky legs. The house felt eerily quieter than ever, the stifling loud quiet of a living deadspace. What I needed was to do something to take my mind of what happened.

I headed into the kitchen and began to occupy myself with senseless tasks: wiping down already clean countertops, arranging already arranged cabinets.

I stood by the window, looking out into the darkness, I recalled Dan's words. "Give it your best, but don't lose yourself in the process." Was that what I was doing? Holding so tightly to the fact that somewhere, behind the icy mask, there was a man worth fighting for?

My eyes were swollen, and my heart was sore the following morning. I kept away from Ethan altogether; I did not want to find myself on the receiving end of his icy stares and biting words. I prepared for the day instead, slowly bathing and reading that one book which I had been wanting to read for such a long time.

But even when I tried to distract myself, my thoughts kept drifting back to him, shocked by the look on his face last night, his eyes flashing with heat, the way he'd backed me up against the wall. Beneath all the fury and recrimination, there had been something-there, something he wouldn't allow himself to perceive. Longing? Or was I grasping at something that wasn't there?

That night, when I sat on the couch with a cup of tea, I heard footsteps coming down the stairs. My heart accelerated, although I knew I should not have any expectations. Ethan then appeared, his face unreadable.

He looked at me for a moment before turning away. "I'm going out," he said curtly, grabbing his jacket.

"Ethan," I called out after him before I could stop myself.

He didn't look back but he stopped, his hand halfway around the doorknob.

"I just want to let you know I meant it, what I said last night," I continued, talking almost in a whisper. "I love you, Ethan. And I'm not giving us up."

He stood there rigidly for a moment, then opened the door and walked away without saying a word.

The door shut tightly behind him with a soft click. I let out a sigh in frustration. I hadn't the slightest clue how much I would be able to endure, but I did know one thing, I was definitely not ready to walk away. Not without giving it my all.