Authors: Ellison Blackburn
“So. It occurred to me you let me go pretty easily. I realize this was mainly because of those three days when I was in the hospital bed, when you saw what was really going on with us.
“We’ve been married for 17, nearly 18 years now and I started getting inklings of our marriage failing years ago.
“But then I tried to count the number of times you actually said you loved me over the past 15 years or so.
“Which says to me you knew long before, too. For a while, I’ve been thinking this was all my fault, because I regenerated. Be honest, if it was
you
who came to the realization, wouldn’t we be in the same place now—even if we hadn’t done the CR?”
“Yes. I think it probably would have happened anyway.”
He stopped abruptly and said, “Charley, I have always loved you. I love you still. I will until the day I die. The way I feel about you, death might not even release me. I just don’t say things. You know this. I try to show it instead.”
“Don’t make me cry, please,” I pleaded.
“I let you go because you were unhappy. I told you to feel free to do things I didn’t truly want you to. I asked you to not worry about me and tried to keep my distance so you wouldn’t feel guilty for looking for your happiness.”
“I need …,” my voice trailed off.
Trying again I said, “Thank you. I think I needed that. But I also need this conversation to be complete, without any more vagueness. I want the truth. If it were possible for us to get back together, are you saying you’d want to? You keep saying things like ‘if we decide.’ What would you want?
“And don’t start on what’s good for me. I understand now that you would sacrifice what you want if it means I would be happy with something else. But I also know you play me like an instrument, for example, getting me to say I was dating someone so you felt justified yourself.”
“My intention was never to make you feel guilty. For that matter, I didn’t intend any of this to happen. I seriously considered coming there to be with you. Truthfully, at first I thought you were selfish, and then I became aware it was me who was. I knew how bored and miserable you were and all I did was ignore it or tried to talk you out of any sudden moves. You were having nightmares. You were so troubled. But, your decisions would change the way my life was.
“And even up until the end of your first term at school, I would have said we had too much to let go of and we should be together. I thought that much was inevitable.
“Now, I feel differently. I am glad we shared so many years together, but I think us would become too comfortable again. Neither of us is so pushy that it could be any different. This is my perspective, regardless of how we feel for one another.”
“I see, so if I were to say I’m sorry and we should try harder you would probably say ‘Okay,’ but really be thinking ‘fat chance’ of it working.”
“Point blank, yes, I would want to try again, but exactly, I just don’t think it would be any different. We are how we are when we are
together
. And Charley, please don’t say you’re sorry. I’m not sorry and don’t blame you at all. We have one life, right? It’s not okay to coast through it. I won’t say the past has been a mistake or a waste of time, but we could have lived more, inspired one another’s goals and been happier,” Michael said as if closing the door on this part of the conversation.
“I’ve thought of mentioning this before, but it seemed as if it would just confuse the situation more; do you think our lives, or we, would have been different if we had children?”
“Again, if we were different people together it might have made a difference. But, you have to ask yourself why neither of us brought it up before. This said, I should probably tell you, there is a possibility Becks is pregnant.”
“Oh,” I uttered, but almost instantaneously recovered. What more could shock me? I was already in desolation mode. “I understand.” What a dumb thing to say. It was more a statement I made to confirm I had heard this news—devastating at least to me. Silent tears fell and I knew positively there was never going to be a reconciliation. “Will we ever see one another again?”
“I’m sure we will; maybe not soon.”
“Should I be expecting papers in the mail?” I asked not really wanting to hear the affirmation, but not wanting to be surprised either.
“No. I haven’t filed anything. I don’t think I can completely let go just yet.”
“That would be really hard for me, too, but go ahead and do it when you’re ready.”
Both of us bore the silence for what seemed an eternity. I didn’t want to get off the phone. Who knows when we would ever be in each other’s presence again, even virtually?
“I’m putting the house on the market, if you’re okay with it. I can’t live here without you.
“Oddly enough, remember how I said the poplar was our protector? Well, I had to have it cut down. It was infested with rot from the inside, out.”
・ ・ ・
While Michael and I remained attached by ink, I still wasn’t prepared to talk with Becks, especially now. I’d only come this far in my acceptance with Michael because he was my husband. We were bound by more—trust, history, partnership, family. Whereas lasting friendships are solely held together by trust and I could not accept that a friend would betray a basic understanding—spouses and lovers were off limits.
I could not honestly admit I would rather have seen Michael with anyone else. A stranger could not have been a better match for him, at least in my imagination. I did trust Becks to be a decent and kind person, but it wasn’t her personality or qualities of character I objected to—it was what she had done to me. I would not wish her or Michael unhappy or alone, but this was beyond my capacity for understanding.
Inez had already mentioned a few times, “Becks asked if you and she are still on speaking terms,” and even, “She and Michael have agreed to stop seeing one another until you call her.”
How could I explain? It wasn’t the stopping that disturbed me. It was the fact that Becks had allowed it to happen in the first place, which halted our friendship and shattered my ability to be completely rational about it.
Finally, I said, “Inez, if you want to you can pass this along to Becks, but you don’t have to since Michael will have already relayed this to her: I will call Becks when I am able. It may not be very soon. They have to make their own decisions. For my part, what’s done is done and can’t be taken back.”
Chapter Twenty-nine
Good friend, go to him; for, by this light of heaven,
I know not how I lost him.
—William Shakespeare,
Othello (4.2)
・
・
・
AFTER A MONTH, I CONCLUDED IT WAS not fair of me to release Michael from guilt but not Becks. Michael had been my friend for longer, so the definitions applied to him as well. I had somehow found myself able to accept whatever choices he made and I should allow the same for Becks. This was a wound that would surely take some time heal, but it had to begin somewhere or it would fester.
“Hey Charley,” Becks greeted when I called.
“Hi. Look, I talked to Michael. This is all kind of weird.”
“I’m sorry. I, we, didn’t plan it. We just get on so well.”
“I know. I know,” I said, not really knowing at the exact moment what else to say. So much was going through my head.
“Are we going to be ok, you and me?” she asked, sensing the awkwardness usual to the end of a conversation. Only this one hadn’t quite begun.
“I hope so. I can’t say for sure just yet. It’s just going to take some time for me to get used to,” I said emotionlessly and then realized I was not fine. I took an audible breath before saying, “I’m just going to be really frank, because it’s you, not some so-so friend.
“I’m having a hard time not feeling betrayed. Michael is another story and I will have to figure that out separately, but I just really don’t understand how this could happen.
“I mean, you said you didn’t plan it, but it’s not as though you just happened to fall into bed together in some drunken stupor. Dates were planned, spending time together was planned.”
“Wait. Seriously, you know I wouldn’t lie to you. We met a few times for coffee, mostly talking about you, London and how everything was going. The conversations got broader and we just found we enjoyed each other’s company. It was always casual. I don’t think either of us was thinking this was some romance. This is why we didn’t really think anything of it for a while. It just grew from our friendship.”
Although I inadvertently brought them together, I felt somewhat bitter. I would never admit it to them, but it grated on me, I was replaceable. “I believe you. One minute I’m fine with it and the next I feel wronged, as if I have no choice in the matter—I either accept it or lose both of you.
“If I stay rational I know Michael is right. I
am
glad it’s you—for both him and you—two of my favorite people together.” I lied trying to be nice and understanding. I felt cool on the outside and a burning flame within. Neither of them were my favorite. “Though if not for yourselves, for my sanity, please take it slow and easy. It might not be fair for me to ask, but if you and I are going to stay friends, I don’t know if I can take hearing some things right now, not in jest, not in passing, not accidentally. I don’t want to have conversations about what he’s like, what he does, none of that.”
“Oh jeez, Charley, I would never. But … I’m planning to come out there in a couple of weeks. Should I postpone my trip?”
“Right, Inez mentioned it. Well, since you usually stay at our place, yes, please postpone.
Or
, if you need to be here for the business, I can’t tell you not to, but at least this time around, I think it’s best if you stay at a hotel.” I’d already told Inez I couldn’t see Becks for a while. I wasn’t great with confrontation in general and seeing Becks any time soon would be too much too fast.
“Okay.
“Charley, I just have to say one thing. It may seem it’s easy
to say
, but I never meant to hurt you. It’s true, I didn’t. The fact is I did. If you say this is something you can’t accept than I will stop seeing Michael. But … I’m going on 40 and don’t want to be alone for the rest of my life. Ever since my divorce … anyway I’ve hardly dated. You don’t have to try to understand, but I wish you would.
“It would be easier to let go now, before I look into the future—you know what I mean? Do you know what I’m asking?”
“Yes. I understand both what you’re asking and how you feel. You’re asking for my permission, but I can’t do that directly. All I
can
say is, we’ll get past this. Michael and I have been separated for nearly a year and, well … we weren’t exactly together long before that. Time, Becks, I just need time.”
“Thank you.” Her voice sounded a little shaky, and I felt a catch in my own throat in the instant before I heard her voice return to normal. “I spoke with Inez and everything seemed alright, but promise me you and Inez are okay.”
“We are absolutely fine. You know your sister. She helped me focus and refocus on what’s important–and the reality,” I said hoping to ease any concern there without repeating the numerous conversations Inez and I’d had.
“Becks, before this conversation is over, I have to ask you … Did Michael ever cross your mind … before?” I was afraid of the answer, but masochistically I needed to know.
“No. For the most part, for as long as I’ve known you, he was your husband and a friend because of you. He and I never occurred to me. As I said, it just happened.”
“And did this change when he went from being 56 years old to 33?”
“I admit, I thought him very attractive when I saw him the first time afterward, but again, I didn’t know him. He was just a nice guy and your husband.”
“Thanks. This is all I needed to know. I didn’t want to dwell on suppositions as I am prone to do.”
“Yeah, we don’t want you going cray cray,” she said awkwardly in jest.
How annoying. “Exactly!” I said, glad for the tension release. “I’ll talk to you later,” I said soon after. I couldn’t say when. It was going to take a while. Just as with Michael, I would need some space from Becks.
February 2, 2027
Although there is a dull ache inside me, I know my conversations with both Michael and Becks were true and forward (even though I lied). Apart from any, I don’t know, bitter comments I could make regarding her possible pregnancy, which I would have probably regretted anyway, there was nothing more to say. Strange she hadn’t eluded to a pregnancy. They should know by now whether or not they are expecting. Maybe they aren’t. Inez probably knows and I could ask. It’s usually happy news, but I’m not there. Nothing against the possible future babe, but I do NOT want to know.
Pulling myself out of the mud, I walk through life laden with the added weight. This new mud will eventually dry and flake off. I have no doubt I will forever be stained. I don’t know what I thought—maybe that I could buy all new clothes, but it seems I cannot get rid of the old ones. They are coated in the grime of a past life and they are the same, only freshly laundered. I see now I have to be very careful in selecting additions to my wardrobe. Someday the old clothes can move to the bottom of my baggage if I love the new ones enough.
I need a moment to heal. It’s over—my marriage and, very likely, Becks’ and my friendship. For now, life goes on. So I’m going to continue to bury myself in my studies since this was my original goal. It’s been working so far, but I hope we (Inez and I) can do a trip soon for a change in scenery and some distraction.
This time I thought we’d expand our group of travelers, since I’m not in the mood for any more emotional, in-depth conversations. I haven’t asked Inez yet. Of all her great qualities, she’s not extrovert. She prefers small groups of close friends. She’s met all of my new friends now, but they are not her close friends. I’m sure she will understand why I want others around this time, though.
A while back, I thought Sima had regenerated. Maybe I was grabbing at straws then, hoping to find someone with whom I could share the confusion and challenges. I didn’t think I would ever find another person who’d undergone Renovation. We (PTTs), don’t really advertise it.