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A Thousand Letters(68)
Author: Staci Hart

And of everything that had happened with Mary, Charlie was the one I felt most guilty about — putting him through all of that was the end cap on the horrible damage I'd done.

"Hello?" I called from the entry as I closed the door, wondering if I should have knocked instead.

"Elliot?" Charlie called. "Up here."

I hung up my things and made my way upstairs, my heart lighting when the kids jumped up and ran for me.

"Hi, guys," I said, smiling and crying, just a little, their joy bringing me joy. I pulled away, holding them at arm's length, feeling like I hadn't seen them, really seen them, in ages. "I've missed you."

Sammy bounced. "Where've you been? Mommy's gone. Grandpa too, bye, bye, bye," he crowed, flapping his arms merrily.

Charlie looked older than he had a few days before, the lines in his face speaking of a sleepless night and his sadness. "I don't think they even miss her," he said, defeat heavy in his voice. "I don't know how this happened, Elliot."

"Oh, Charlie," I said, pulling Maven into my lap as Sammy found a dump truck and pushed it around the room making truck noises. "This isn't your fault."

He sighed deeply. "And Jack …"

I shook my head. "This isn't your fault. They made a choice."

"But I didn't see it. It was going on right under my nose, and I didn't see it."

"They're good liars."

He chuffed.

"What happened last night?"

He scrubbed a hand over his face. "Well, I kept Mary in the room with me until you left, and she pulled out all the stops. Begged. Screamed. Threatened me. Promised me. But in the end, I made her leave like I told her to."

"Do you know where she went?"

"Not to Jack's. I went there this morning, early."

"How early?"

"Still-dark early. She wasn't there, and he said he was done with her, that he'd waited too long. He even said he was sorry, but I didn't buy it, and it didn't stop me from decking him."

I gasped. "Oh, my God. Did you really?"

He held up his right hand, bloody knuckles out, looking quite pleased with himself. "Sure did."

"How did it feel?"

"Like vengeance."

I chuckled. "I'm not usually the vengeful type, but in this case … well, he deserved that."

"You can say that again." He shook his head. "I just can't believe this. I didn't sleep at all, just lay in bed in the dark, thinking about everything, wondering if they had sex in our bed, considering every time she wasn't with me, wondering if she was with him. My best friend and my wife. I … I just can't even comprehend it."

My chest ached. "Charlie, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I was the one who told you … I really wanted it to be her."

"She's too much of a coward for that. Her life was a very delicate web, complete with pitfalls she put in place herself. I'm not sure she knows what it's like to be happy — she sabotages every good thing in her life. She'd labeled all of us a burden. Me. The kids. Even you, who's always been there, whenever we need. I just don't understand."

I helped Maven with the puzzle toy she fiddled with in my lap. "She's always been this way, even when we were children. She wanted it all, and Dad gave it to her, feeding her selfish nature, and when she was older, she did the same to him. They're fire and air, the two of them. Where did Dad and Beth go?"

He sighed. "By the time Mary and I came up last night, they were in their room, and when I came back from Jack's, they were packing their things, spewing bullshit at me the whole way out the door about the sanctity of marriage. As if I were the one who had defied that vow."

Sammy marched around the room like a soldier saying bullshit, bullshit, bullshit. Charlie grabbed him and roared, tickling him until he'd forgotten the dirty word all together.

As I watched him with his kids, anguish filled me again at the realization of what I'd done. "I hate this, Charlie."

His eyes were sad when they met mine. "Me too. But you know what? I've always known it wouldn't work out between us. Is that wrong to say? That I married a woman I didn't truly love and who didn't love me?"

"No. It's not wrong, especially if it's the truth."

He looked away, shaking his head. "I thought she would … I don't know. Grow up. Change once she had Sammy. But I was naive, and now … well, now I'm not entirely sure what I think."

"Do you know what you're going to do?" The question was vague; I didn't know how to ask him anything more specific than that.

"I've already put in a call to a buddy of mine from college to handle the divorce, and I called a nanny agency today looking for someone to help. My parents are coming to stay for a few months from Chicago, to help out and for moral support. Because it's not going to be pretty, this divorce. She's going to fight me for everything, whether she wants it or not, like the kids. Elliot, she can't get them. She … she can't. She won't care for them like I can, like I will. They'll just be something for her to use to manipulate me, to hurt me."

"I know," I said quietly.

"This is early to ask, but …" He watched me for a second before speaking. "If I need a witness, will you speak on my behalf?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat, swallowed the regret that Mary had done so much damage, hurt so many people. There was no question as to what I'd do. "Of course I will."

"Thank you," he said, sighing his relief. "I wanted to talk to you about something else."

"Anything."

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