Chapter Twenty-five
As it happened, I didn’t call Scott after Wes left. Even though I knew he would be concerned about me, I just wasn’t ready to discuss my situation.
Instead, I did chores around the house, like laundry and dishes and other things, while going over everything in my mind. Besides, I didn’t know what to tell Scott, or how he would feel about it. I was confused, and I felt disloyal to him somehow, which made no sense because we were supposed to be just friends.
I wondered if Angie had called him. Maybe they were on the phone with each other right now, patching things up. Maybe she was saying terrible things about Wes and trying to convince Scott to take her back.
Would he?
I wasn’t sure that he wouldn’t, because he was the most honorable man I knew, and she was his wife. A woman with issues. He might very well forgive her and feel a responsibility to take care of her.
But the idea of her moving back in across the street made me want to punch something.
After about an hour, my laptop chimed. I moved to the coffee table in the living room, opened it up and saw an email from Scott.
Hey there,
I saw him leave a while ago. Do you want to talk?
S.
I carried my laptop to the kitchen table where I could sit down, and typed a reply.
Thank you for checking in. I’m in a state, actually…driven to scrubbing floors and cleaning out my fridge. He said he had a big fight with Angie and he wants to come home. He also just found out that he has a trust fund he didn’t know about, which he can collect in a few months, so he wants to try to have a baby with me now. Money solves everything, right? I want to tell him to go stuff it!
C.
I pounded the key when I hit SEND, because I was still so angry about everything.
A moment later, my laptop chimed and another email came in.
Do you want me to come over?
S.
I had originally thought I didn’t want to talk about it with anyone, not even Scott, but I changed my mind in a heartbeat.
Yes, please.
Three minutes later, Scott walked through my front door and Leo greeted him with a wagging tail.
* * *
I waved Scott into the kitchen, where I was pouring two glasses of wine. He approached me and I handed him one. We gave each other a knowing look, clinked glasses, and took a few big gulps.
“Have you heard from Angie?” I asked, leaning my hip against the counter.
Scott shook his head. “Not a word. So tell me what happened. What did he say? And what did you say?”
I repeated most of it, while Scott listened with sympathy and disbelief. I explained that I was angry more than anything, and couldn’t believe that Wes thought he could just walk in here, unannounced, and pick up where we’d left off.
Scott and I talked for over an hour while I ranted about all the reasons why Wes didn’t deserve my forgiveness, and why I didn’t need him in my life. We never sat down. Scott stood against the counter while I paced around the kitchen.
By the end of it, I was emotionally drained, but I felt better for having let off all my emotional steam. I exhaled a deep breath and turned to Scott.
“I’m sorry for going on and on. You probably regret coming over here now.”
“Not at all. You needed to vent. I get it. I’d be pissed, too.”
I gave him a small, grateful, heartfelt smile. “Thank you for coming over.”
He continued to gaze at me in the brightness of the overhead light, and I found myself feeling a little lost.
There I stood in the house I owned with my estranged husband, with another man I trusted completely—a man I found very attractive. There was no point denying that fact, even though I’d been denying it for a long time.
But we had both been through the wringer with our marriages, and I wasn’t sure what I was feeling. In this moment, I liked Scott much more than I liked Wes. I had more respect for him, and there was no anger or resentment between us, because he had never done anything to hurt me.
Yet, my husband had just come home to beg me for a second chance.
“What are you going to do?” Scott asked, his eyes steady on mine.
Suddenly, without warning, my emotions overflowed like some kind of ocean storm surge. I put a hand over my mouth to stop the tidal wave from crashing onto the shore, but it was difficult to hold it in.
Scott strode forward and pulled me into his arms. He held me close while I squeezed handfuls of his denim shirt in my hands and pressed my cheek to his chest. He stroked my hair at the back of my head and whispered, “It’s going to be okay, Claire. Everything’s going to be okay.”
He kissed the top of my head and rubbed my back, and I didn’t want to let go of him. I wanted to stay right there, feeling safe and protected in his arms.
“I wish he had never come back,” I said. “I was doing perfectly fine without him.”
“I know.”
With my cheek still pressed tightly to Scott’s chest, I breathed in the clean scent of his shirt and closed my eyes, taking deep breaths in an effort to gather my composure.
“I’ve been feeling so much anger for so long,” I explained, “wanting to get back at him for what he did. I wanted him to suffer forever with regret, but at the same time, I don’t want to make decisions based on pride or a desire for revenge. He’s my husband, and he made a mistake, but now he’s begging for my forgiveness and a second chance. We made a commitment to each other, for better or worse. We spoke vows in church, till death do us part.”
While I continued to cling to him, Scott simply nodded. He didn’t speak. And though I loved how it felt to be held by him, I needed to look him in the eye.
Slowly, I took a step back and wiped the tears from my cheeks. I stared up at Scott and felt his empathy and compassion.
“You have to do what’s right for you,” he said. “And you don’t have to make any decisions right now. Take time to think about it. You’ll know what’s right when the time comes.”
“When do you think that will be?”
Scott smiled gently and laid his hand on my cheek. “I wish I knew.”
I reached up to squeeze his hand in mine, and kissed his palm.
Suddenly, my blood was racing through my veins.
“What if Angie had been the one to come back tonight?” I asked him. “Would you have listened to her? Would you be able to forgive her?”
“I don’t know that either,” Scott replied. “I guess it would depend.”
“On what?”
He said nothing for a few seconds. Then he shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t know. All sorts of things. But she hasn’t come back, at least not yet, so I’m just going to keep doing what I’ve been doing—keeping on with the starting-over part.”
I felt myself beginning to relax.
“I thought I was doing so well with that,” I replied. “Now it feels like someone kicked me off the road, into the ditch and I can’t get up.”
He pulled me into his arms again, forcefully, and hugged me tight. We stood for a long while, embracing.
“I should go, Claire,” he said after a time, but I didn’t want to hear those words.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. It’s late, and tomorrow’s a school day. You should get some sleep. Think about everything.”
I nodded, but I felt bereft when he took a step back and let go of me.
He was such a good man and I cared for him deeply. He was handsome, loyal, and wonderful. All I could think about was how I didn’t want Angie to do what Wes had done tonight—to come home and beg Scott to take her back, because I knew how honorable he was, how forgiving, and how he was sympathetic to her plight. She was his wife, and he had also spoken vows before God and promised to love her forever.
But I wanted her to stay away, so that nothing would have to change between Scott and me.
What did that mean for my own marriage, and the future I truly desired? I wasn’t sure, but it didn’t make any of this easy.