Page 62 of Rewrite the Stars
This was my mess in the first place, and it’s time I dealt with it once and for all.
‘I have to go now,’ says Jack when he comes back downstairs over an hour later. ‘I need to clear my head before I go to the airport.’
I must have cried myself to sleep because my eyes are sore. When I look at the clock I realize Jack has been upstairs for longer than I realized. He’s probably been to the dry cleaners and back again. I drag myself up off the sofa. I feel sticky and dirty and I’m so afraid right now. I’m scared stiff of losing the one person who I never wanted to hurt.
I was meant to be driving him to the airport. I’m not even dressed yet. I’m an absolute mess.
‘But you’ve another hour before you need to leave,’ I say to him. ‘Let me get ready quickly and I’ll drive you there. Jack, please. Please don’t leave like this.’
He can’t even look me in the eye. He looks exhausted, drained and deflated, not like my intelligent, handsome husband at all. How could I have been so stupid? Emily’s words ring in my ears from the day in our apartment in Merrion Square when she warned me that I should let Jack go if I still had feelings for Tom Farley.
But I’ve no idea if I do or not. All I know right now is that I don’t want to lose Jack. Am I being selfish? Do I still have feelings for Tom, deep down? Why did last night affect me so badly? I can’t think straight. I’m panicking and I can’t think.
‘There’s a taxi on the way for me now,’ he tells me, busying himself in the mirror, fixing his hair and pretending to adjust his tie. Anything to appear distracted so he doesn’t have to look at me. ‘Maybe this time away from each other will do us both good, yeah? Who knows, it might help you finally make up your mind as to what you want from life, or even if you want to be married at all.’
Oh God, no, I don’t want to hear that. I feel like I’m being smothered by a flurry of words and feelings that have got way out of hand. I clench my fists and then stretch my palms, wanting to physically cling to Jack in desperation and beg him not to leave me like this.
‘Jack, this is all wrong,’ I tell him, trying to get him to look my way even though I feel hideous and ugly for making him so upset as he’s embarking on one of the highlights of his whole career. ‘Please just listen to me. Let me take you to the airport and we can talk along the way.’
He shakes his head.
‘You don’t seem to have anything to add to what has been already said,’ he reminds me. ‘I’ve asked you why you didn’t tell me before now but you don’t seem to want to share the big secret. I even asked you if you still loved him and you couldn’t say yes or no. I’m also wondering why you made me endure that shit show last night while you sat there pretending how you might vaguely remember him.I think he was their drummer?Why the lies, Charlotte? You’ve got nothing to say to me!’
I try and think of why I lied. I try and make my brain work and remember why on earth I didn’t tell my own husband of the part I played in Matthew’s accident and how I’ve been trying to bury it since.
‘I was afraid, Jack!’ I finally spit out to him. ‘I was afraid to tell you because every time Tom Farley’s name is brought up it seems to cause huge trouble in my life. I was afraid to tell you how it was me and my ex-lover who upset Matthew so much that he drove his car into a ditch and was almost killed because of it. I was afraid to bring it up. I’ve never discussed it with anyone until now. I was trying to forget it!’
He just looks at me like he’s seeing right through me. He isn’t buying my explanation for a second and, when I say it out loud, I realize it sounds like I’ve been holding onto a dream of a younger me, someone who had no idea of the realities of life or the challenges that it can bring. I didn’t know love, I’d only just tasted it. I need to shake this off, but I’ve an awful fear I’ve left it too late.
I hear a car pull into our driveway and I feel like stomping my feet like a spoilt child who isn’t getting her way. I want to scream and cry and beg him to stay and talk this through more. Today was meant to be cosy and romantic as we said our heartfelt farewells, not rushed and gut-wrenching like what we’re going through now.
‘If you were afraid of ever mentioning his name again,’ Jack tells me quietly, ‘you wouldn’t have gone to hear him in concert last night, would you? If you were so afraid to face up to your history with him, you certainly wouldn’t have stood beside me pretending you didn’t know him when you knew him inside out.’
I touch his arm in desperation as the taxi driver sounds the horn outside but Jack walks away. He lifts his suitcase and I try to stop him but he doesn’t look at me until we get to the door.
‘I have only ever loved you, Charlotte,’ he says to me sincerely. ‘I worry about you, I care for you, I put you first in everything I do. My main concern in going to Canada to do something that I feel passionate about was if you were going to be OK here because you have been so low for such a long time now.’
His lip is trembling and he looks me in the eyes as his own fill up with tears.
‘You have plenty to think about, Charlotte, and plenty of time and space to do so while I’m gone,’ he says to me. ‘It’s about time you were honest with yourself. It’s about time you decided if you want to be with me and if you’re capable of being mature and honest in our marriage. You’re not that carefree young girl any more. You’re my wife. Maybe it’s time you remembered that and started acting like it, instead of some ditzy fan girl with a crush on someone you don’t even know any more.’
The taxi driver sounds the horn again. I open the door to let him see that Jack is on his way, wishing I could tell him to go away and let me drive my husband to the airport.
‘I don’t need to think about it!’ I plead with him in desperation. ‘I loveyou, Jack! I love you and everything we have together. I messed up and I’m sorry but I won’t ever be so foolish again.’
Jack laughs a little, not in a joyous way but in a way that looks like he is realizing something for the first time.
‘You know, Charlotte, it’s a bit ironic, this whole thing,’ he says to me, his mouth bitter and twisted and sad. Yes, mostly sad.
‘How do you mean?’ I ask him.
He pauses. ‘Matthew’s decision to get into his car that day was his own decision, no one else’s,’ he says to me. ‘Yes, you upset him with your big announcement about your relationship with Tom, but his reaction to that was all his own making. It’s about time you let your own involvement in that go, but maybe you don’t want to?’
‘What?’
‘Maybe it’s the only thing left that links you to Tom Farley and you don’t want to ever let it go?’ he continues. ‘Have a really good think about it. We can see where all of this – our marriage, our home and whatever future we have – stands when I get back, but I won’t tolerate lies, Charlotte. You mean more to me than that, and I thought you felt the same way too.’
I watch him walk away from me without glancing back. I urge him to look back but he doesn’t.
