Entry #534989, added on 09-14-07 @ 11:45 pm EDT
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| Chapter Twenty-Two | Entry #534989 |
Violet was rushing up to her room when her father stopped her in the hallway.
"Vi, are you okay?"
Violet stopped, shocked. It had been such a long time since she'd seen her father look so...vulnerable.
"I'm fine. Are you alright?"
Her father blinked, obviously thrown by the turn of the conversation. "I'm fine. Are you sure you're okay? You look like you've been crying."
Violet's hand instinctively moved to her face. She had cried most of the way home, not because of her mother and Christian's betrayal, but because of the realization she'd come to in the middle of it, and the fear that she'd missed her chance.
Now the remnants of said realization showed on her red, puffy face.
But she was fine.
Or she would be, if she could get to her room.
"Dad, I don't have time to explain. If you really want to know, ask your wife."
She bolted up the stairs, leaving her confused father in her wake. When she swung her bedroom door open, she didn't nother to turn on the light before striding to the window.
Drake's light wasn't on. He wasn't home.
Violet's shoulders slumped. Would his window be open? It was worth a shot. Violet opened her window and climbed out before reaching for his and finding it unlocked. Bingo! She climbed in and slid the window shut behind her. She snaked onto his bed and closed her eyes.
In all the years she'd known Drake, she'd never been in his bed without him beside her. With the light off, Drake's room was even creepier than it was on those nights when she stayed there. Drake had always been much darker, mor morbid, than Violet.
She opened her eyes and looked around, and even though she couldn't see anything, she knew every inch of the room. On his door hung an old Beatles poster she had bought for him two years ago, stuck to the ceiling were star constellations fashioned out of glow-in-the-dark duct tape that had long since faded, and on the tackboard by his closet, held up by a single tack, was an old photo of the two of them, taken in middle school.
She knew this room like her own, like she knew Drake.
As if on que, the bedroom door opened, and Drake walked in. Even in the pitch black darkness, he noticed her on the bed immediately and froze.
"Hi," Violet whispered from the bed where she'd turned over to face him.
"Hey." He closed the door gently and sat on the edge of the bed, his back to her.
"You know what happened?" Violet asked, not sure what the answer would be.
He nodded, still not looking at her. "I went to see Christian. He told me."
So that's where he'd been.
"You can say 'I told you so,' if it'll make you feel better."
He shook his head. "It won't. You know, Christian's pretty upset. He's afraid you'll hate him forever. That's not true, right?" he asked, finally turning on the bed to face her.
Violet smiled in the darkness and sat up. "I'm not mad."
"You're not?"
"Nope."
"Why?"
Violet sighed. "Drake, I'm not here to talk about Christian."
His eyes wandered around the room. It apparently didn't bother him to be sittin gon the darkness, the moonlight showing through the window.
Violet sat up straighter and crossed her legs. "Drake, I'm so stupid."
His brow furrowed. "No, you're not. Why would you say that?"
She took a deep breath, preparing herself, and inched closer to him. "Do you remember Sense and Sensability, the movie? The one with Hugh Grant and Kate Winslet?"
Drake dropped his face in his hand and groaned."You've only made me watch it about a hundred times."
Violet didn't smile at his humor. She was too busy planning what she was going to say next. "Well, do you remember Marianne Dashwood, Kate Winslet's character?"
Drake lifted his head to meet her gaze and nodded.
"Well, in the story, Colonel Brandon fell in love with Marianne the first time they met, but she was all caught up in her own problems and falling in love with Willoughby, that even though she appreciated everything Brandon did for her, she didn't realize she loved him until every other problem was done with."
She saw Drake's puzzled expression. She'd been looking everywhere but at him as she animated her words with her hands, but now her hands dropped to the bed and she saw Drake's confusion.
"Do you understand what I'm saying?"
Drake nodded, and Violet inched closer.
"You do?"
He looked dazed. "You're Marianne?"
She scooted a centimeter more. "Yeah, only it took me eighteen years to figure out that I was in love with Brandon."
When he didn't say anything, she scooted even closer, until they sat side-by-side, and looked at his mouth, which was slightly ajar. When she lifted her eyes to his, he was studying her mouth as well.
His eyes slowly slid to hers. "Please tell me I'm Brandon."
Violet grinned. "Uh-huh."
But that's all she got out before he kissed her. Or had she kissed him? Did it matter? Violet was seeing stars.
A little while later, they layed together on the bed and tried to point out faded constellations.
"So, when did all this hit you?" Drake asked, pulling Violet a little closer.
Violet stared at the ceiling and thought. "It was the kiss. I couldn't figure out if the fireworks were normal."
"So, you kissed Christian?"
Violet groaned. "He told you?"
Drake grinned. "Yup."
Violet laughed, but it soon died away and she became serious again. "You know what mom said was her reason for doing all this?"
"What?"
"To make me happy when my parents fought. But none of us realized I was already happy. All those nights I climbed through your window, it was't just for Pacey." She met his eye and smiled. "It was for me, too."
Drake snuggled her closer and Violet felt stupid for not realizing that this was what she wanted all along- something she already had.
Thomas was waiting for Maggie when she got home. As soon as she opened the door and saw her husband sitting on the couch, his arms crossed and a scowl on his face, she knew it would be bad.
He didn't say a word as he ushered her into the bedroom and shut the door.
She began pulling off her shoes as he spoke.
"We need to talk. I just saw Violet. She looked upset, and she said that if I wanted an explination, I had to talk to you."
Maggie didn't stop untying her shoes as she answered. "I payed a boy to go out with Violet."
Silence thickened the air around them for almost a minute, and when Thoma spoke, though it was more than a whisper, it cut right through.
"How could you do that?" he wanted to know.
She sighed and set her last shoe onthe floor. "You know, Thomas. I don't think I really did anything wrong. I wanted Violet to be happy. I needed someone in this house to be happy!"
Maggie's voice had risen slowly as she spoke, and when she finished, it was no less than a shout. When she dared to look at her husband, he looked hurt.
"You're not happy?"
Before she knew what was happening, Maggie slid from the bed onto her knees in front of her husband and began to sob into her open palms. She didn't know how long she sat there crying before Thomas crouched on the ground and put his arms around her.
She pulled back to look in his eyes and saw past the blur of her own tears that his eyes were wet also.
"Do you love me?" she asked him between gasping breaths.
"How can you ask me that?"
"Thomas!" she yelled. "You say it like it's so obvious! It's not! I don't even understand you anymore. You don't touch me; we fight all the time. How am I supposed to know? I don't know what's going on!"
Thomas' tears were sliding down his cheeks. "I'm sorry."
Maggie thought she'd heard him wrong. She'd seen his mouth move, but thought that she must have mistaken the words. But then he said it again, louder.
"I'm sorry, Maggie. I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you."
Maggie's tears had dried up in her confusion. "What do you mean?"
"I've felt like such a failure." he told her. "I feel like I can't even support you and our children anymore. I want to be able to give you everything you want."
"Thomas," Maggie began, but he spoke over her.
"Do you remember when I used to buy you something every week? It was always something that smelled good or sparkled." He smiled at the fond memory, and Maggie smiled with him, remembering the days when he would come home, kiss her like he hadn't seen her in week, then surprise her with a new gift.
She nodded. "I remember."
Thomas became serious again."When I got demoted, and I couldn't give you the things you wanted, I felt unworthy of you, of our family. I handled it badly."
Maggie felt such compassion for her husband. She was relieved that this was the thing that had been keeping them apart for months, but yet she was angry that such a small thing would keep him from her. "All this because of your male ego? Because of your need to take care of us?"
Thomas' head dropped. "I know. It's so stupid. I don't even know why I let it get to me, but I all I could think was that you weren't happy because we lived in a small house, and you couldn't afford to go back to school, and I couldn't get you the car you wanted."
"Thomas." She put a hand on each of his wet cheeks and brought his head up so that she could see his eyes. "I love you. You were so wrong if you thought I would let material things come between us."
"I just..." he paused and let out a shaky breath. "You're my life, Mags. I'm sorry if I've made you so unhappy. God, I wanted to kill myself when you thought I was having an affair."
Maggie wanted to laugh at her stupidity in that matter. She had been a fool, just like Thomas had. All this just because he had let his primative instincts tell him that she wouldn't love him if he didn't buy the things she wanted.
She shook her head at it all. Her husband loved her. She'd been so afraid that it hadn't been possible anymore.
She leaned forward to capture his mouth, and he seemed to stiffen under her touch. Then suddenly his arms went around her and he pushed her back on the carpet.
And as he did things to her that he hadn't done in a long time, she feared that her heart would explode from happiness. |
© Copyright 2007 GryffindorGurl (UN: magicfreak11 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
GryffindorGurl has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
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