Jen stood on the front porch, inhaling deeply. The light was on, warding off the early morning dimness and she could hear the sounds of the household routine through the open window. Hannah, her daughter, was giggling and refusing to eat whatever the nanny, Margaret, had prepared and Daniel was admonishing her in his typical playful style.
“Now or never,” she reminded herself softly, slipping her key into the lock.
“Mommy!” Hannah slid off her seat and rushed to the door, wrapping her arms around Jen’s legs in one smooth movement. “I missed you!”
“I missed you too, angel.” She managed to detach her daughter’s grip before bending down to her level and giving her a warm hug. “Were you good?”
“Mostly.”
“Uh-huh. And if I ask Margaret will I get the same reply?”
“Maybe.” Hannah smiled beatifically. “But if you don’t, it’s not because I’m not telling the truth.”
“Go finish your breakfast.” She patted her bottom and watched her run back to the kitchen, full of excitement and laughter. Straightening, Jen found herself face to face with her husband. “Well, what a surprise.”
“Where were you?”
“You’re quite the person to be asking that question.” Jen slipped off her jacket and hung it on the coat rack. “I don’t recall being required to give you a day to day rundown of my activities. After all, I don’t ask you.”
“You want to ask me, Jen?”
“I don’t want to ask you anything, Daniel. I don’t want to ask you and I don’t want to know where you are when you don’t come home at night. I don’t care what or who you’re doing when you’re gone for days on end. I really don’t give a shit.”
“Then why are you so angry?”
“I’m not.” Jen sighed and moved into the kitchen, saying hello to Margaret before making her way to the coffee maker. “Thank you for taking care of her last night, Margaret. I’ll be home today, so you’re welcome to an extra day off.”
“Thank you, Ms. Lindley.”
“You know, in the house, it’s perfectly acceptable to call her Mrs. Franklin,” Daniel reminded them, his gaze locked on Jen. “After all, that is who she promised to be till death do us part.”
“Funny you should mention that,” Jen muttered softly under her breath.
“What, dear?” The last word was flatly ironic.
“Nothing darling.” Jen replied. “I’m going to shower and change, Margaret. Can you stay long enough for that?”
“Of course.”
“Thank you.” Jen picked up her coffee and headed for the back stairs, planting a kiss on Hannah’s head along the way. “Be good.”
“I am.”
“Mmmm-hmmm.” Jen smiled and ruffled Hannah’s blonde hair. Walking slowly up the stairs, she could feel Daniel’s eyes on her, could feel him following her. “Just so you’re aware. I’m not in the mood at all.”
“You didn’t come home last night.”
“And how do you know that?” She didn’t bother to nail him with a glance over her shoulder, choosing instead to take a healing sip of coffee. “I would wager it wasn’t because you were home, was it, Daniel?”
“I was working.”
“Which street corner?”
“You’re a fucking bitch, Jennifer.”
“You wound me.” She opened the door to their bedroom and set her cup down on the dresser that ran the length of the wall. “It’s almost like the pot calling the kettle black, Daniel. Except you’re more of a whore than a bitch.”
“I’m a whore?”
“Yes.” Jen finally faced him, careful to keep her expression cool. “You don’t come home at night, you sleep around and you fuck almost anything. You don’t think I hear the whispers at the police functions? You don’t think I hear what people say about you? I deal with cases handed over by the police. I see the people you work with every day. And every day I hear them wonder why I stay with you, why I put up with you. Why I don’t just kick your lousy ass to the street.”
“And why don’t you?”
“It’s amusing to watch you trying to be clever.” She unbuttoned her blouse and shrugged it off, tossing it in the hamper. Ignoring him now, she removed her bra and tossed it over as well, glad to be rid of the lingering smell of the night before. She heard him close the door, locking them inside, shrouding them in privacy. “Of course, it’s a futile attempt on your part.”
“You know all about being clever, don’t you? After all, you think you’ve got all the answers. You’re so sure you know everything there is to know about me, about everyone.” He walked toward her, sizing her up as she continued to undress.
“I do know you, Daniel. I know how badly you need that next sexual fix. I know what you’re willing to do to get it. There are treatments, you know. People who can help you with this little addiction of yours.”
“You don’t know me at all.”
“Really?” She turned to face him, almost taunting him with her nude body. “I don’t know that you’re going to tell me that you’re leaving me because there’s someone else you’re in love with? You think I’m too stupid to know that you’re fucking Jack in an effort to get back at me? You think I don’t see that the only reason you want him is because you think I can’t have him.”
“You can’t. You never will.”
Jen stepped closer to him, her hips swaying as she moved. “I had him last night.”
Daniel shook his head, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “Shut up.”
“We went out to dinner, two best friends enjoying a night on the town, consoling each other, and then he took me back to his place and we made love. We made love for hours, rolling around in the big bed, all tangled together.”
“Shut up, Jennifer.”
“And then when you showed up, he let you suck him off because he was too tired to do anything else. Tell me, Daniel, did he even act like he was enjoying it? Because, from where I was standing in the bedroom doorway, he didn’t look like he was having any fun. Maybe he was just being nice. You make a decent mercy fuck.”
Neither of them moved in the stillness. The room seemed to have stopped, every motion frozen as she looked up at him from the floor where his fist had sent her tumbling. Her hand was poised just above her jaw, too stunned to rub the tender flesh.
Daniel stared down at her, his whole body shaking with rage and remorse. “Jen…”
“Get out.”
“Jen…”
“Get out,” she managed to say the words around the rapidly swelling flesh. Her lips felt numb, her face felt numb. “Get your ass out and don’t ever, ever come back.”
“You want company?” Dawson asked from the driver’s seat of the car.
Pacey looked out the passenger’s side window at the building they were parked in front of and took a deep breath. “I’m good.”
“Really?” The word was spoken innocuously enough, but it immediately brought Pacey’s gaze to Dawson.
“You don’t think I’m fine?”
“Honestly? I think you’re about as far from fine as someone can get and still function. I think the slightest thing is going to set you off at some point, and I’m afraid that whoever’s around is going to be left bleeding from the shrapnel.”
“Wow. You have given this some thought.”
“Pacey, I thought that the minute I saw you at the train station.”
“Right. Like you’re that insightful. Joey told you to be worried, didn’t she?”
Dawson sighed and rested his hands on the steering wheel, tapping the leather cover with his fingers. “You realize that we all know it’s an act, right? Not a single person you’ve seen since you’ve gotten here thinks that you’re doing fine.”
“Kara…”
“Kara asked me this morning what was wrong with you.” He was silent for a moment. “Pace, there’s nothing wrong with being in pain. There’s nothing wrong with showing that pain. We’re your friends. You’re supposed to be able to lean on us during these kinds of things.”
“If I needed someone to lean on, I’d let you know.”
Dawson looked over at his friend and sighed. Pacey was sitting stiffly in the seat, his hand clenched around the door handle. “You want me to go in with you?”
“No.”
“You want me to pick you up later?”
“I’ll walk back,” Pacey decided. “I have to pick up something for Kara’s birthday anyway.”
“Pacey…nevermind.”
“What?”
“Just…just need someone before this whole thing is over and done with, okay? At some point decide you need someone and open up to them?”
“I’ll see you later, D.” Pacey climbed out of the car and headed into the funeral parlor. The room was cool, decorated in somber but not depressing tones. A mahogany desk dominated the room, surrounded by mahogany chairs with royal blue velvet cushions. Sunlight filtered in through a high window, washing the room with pale light.
“Can I help you?”
He looked at the open doorway to the right of the desk and nodded at the young woman standing there. “I need…well, I’m not sure what I need. My wife died.”
“Right this way. Do you have an appointment?”
“I called. I’m…I’m Pacey Witter.”
“Of course.” She guided him to an office and gestured to a chair. “Just make yourself comfortable.”
“In a building full of dead people?”
“We’re not all quite dead, Mr. Witter.” She smiled and pressed a buzzer on the desk. The hollow sound rang somewhere in the distance and she started for the door. “Mr. Williams will be with you shortly.”
| Chapter Eleven ~ coming soon |
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