CHAPTER 5
Never have I lived through such a tense week. Taylor acted as though I hadn't said anything to him that Sunday afternoon; as though it didn't matter that I'd said what I had. He acted as per usual around Tahlia, Dad, Becky and Dallas; although I could tell they knew things were tense between Taylor and me.
Before the weekend, I had figured that he was planning to tell me this freaking secret, and so I wasn't pushing it too much. After the weekend, on the other hand, I knew that I would have to force it out of him.
I needed to know this goddamn secret; and I needed to marry him. But, I didn't want to marry someone who would keep something this big from me. Surely it must be huge, seeing as he resists in telling me. If it were something minor, I have no doubt in my mind that he would have told me straight away.
Monday morning, we woke at six a.m. as per usual, with Tahlia still asleep between us. Tay got out of bed and headed to the bathroom after giving me a light kiss. I sighed. What was it going to take for him to tell me?
With Tay in the shower, it was my task to wake Tahlia.
She slept so peacefully, with her small pink lips pouted as she dreamed happily. It almost killed me to take her away from that perfect world of hers.
"Tahlia," I whispered, stroking her face.
After a few tries, her eyelids began to flutter open. She let out a huge yawn as she rubbed her sleepy eyes. She looked so beautiful.
"Mummy," she mumbled.
"I'm here, sweetie," I told her softly, meeting her searching hand. "It's time to wake up, Tahlia. You had a big sleep."
She was about to say something in return, but another yawn escaped her lips. I couldn't help but smile. With all the crazy stuff happening, Tahlia made me hold hope within my heart, even when it was long lost.
Eventually, Tahlia was fully awake. Tay was dressed and ready, so we headed downstairs together... silently though.
All through breakfast, it was killing me to hold back the onslaught of questions I wanted to get out of him. I wanted him to tell me without prompting needed. He told me two years ago that I didn't know certain things about him because I'd never asked. Well, now I'm asking, but I'm getting no answer! It was beyond infuriating!
We loaded up the car, and I buckled Tahlia in before climbing into my own seat. I looked sternly out the side window as Tay started up the car and began our journey. This morning though, he had to stop in Bannockburn to fill up the car with petrol.
I watched as he collected his wallet from the console before heading out to pump the petrol into the tank. Tay's action of picking up his wallet made me spot his mobile phone. A mobile phone full of numbers, but one number that could be most helpful in my situation.
I sneakily scrolled through the contacts until I came to the 'S' section. Finally, I came across the contact filed under the name, 'Sean Elliott.' I looked to where Tay was standing, but he was looking at the bowser, calculating the amount of money he'd be paying.
I searched the car for a scrap of paper and a pen. I found an old receipt under my seat and a pen in the glove box. Quickly, I jotted down Sean's mobile number on the back of the receipt, making sure that Tay wasn't looking still. He wasn't.
I shoved the paper into my bag for future reference. I exited the programs on Tay's phone before putting it back where I had got it from. I saw him heading into the building to pay for the fuel, and I only hoped that this phone number could give me some answers.
* * *
"Higher, Mummy! Push me higher please, Mummy!" Tahlia asked as she sat in the swing, blowing through the air.
I was only pushing lightly, but it would have been pretty high for a two year old. Subconsciously, I began to push harder against the swing.
"Sam, I really don't know what to do," I said to Samantha, who was standing to my right, pushing Bridget on the other swing. "I want him to tell me himself, but I just don't think that he's going to." My face dropped miserably. I had been led to believe that marriages were built on trust. Clearly, Tay didn't feel the same way.
"Nas," Sam replied more calmly than I would have been able to, "I know you, and I know that you know Taylor more than anyone else does. If you feel that he's not going to tell you what's going on, I think you'd better call Sean and see if he can help."
"I shouldn't have to though," I mumbled.
"No, you shouldn't. But, Nas, I don't think he's going to be telling you anytime soon, and I know how much the both of you want to marry each other. You need to do this... for the both of you." It was amazing just how sure Sam was about the subject.
"Yeah, you're right. But, I think Tay and Sean are in on this together or something. Sean mightn't say anything." I was only making excuses; I didn't really want to call Sean - not after that day he arrived.
"You'll never know unless you try, Nas," Sam finalised, smiling reassuringly at me.
I sighed loudly. All afternoon, I'd been trying to talk myself out of calling Tay's cousin, but I did have to do this.
"Can you watch Tahlia for a minute then?" I asked Sam, knowing her reply before it left her lips.
"Of course," she smiled.
I tried to smile back at her before I walked to a nearby picnic table. I took my bag off of my shoulder and searched around for my phone and the piece of paper with Sean's mobile number.
After finding a lot of miscellaneous item in my bag, such as toothpaste - toothpaste?! - I eventually found what I was looking for. I unlocked the keypad before typing in the number I'd scribbled down earlier today. I hesitated, but I finally managed to press the green button that could change my life somehow.
Ringing. Ringing. Ringing. Rin-
"Hello?" a husky voice answered. This was like déjà vu from when I called Chad, but ended up speaking to his dad.
"Sean?" I asked, my voice slightly shaky.
"Speaking," he replied, a little wary, "Who's this?"
"Nasettia," I answered, but it obviously wasn't enough for Sean.
"I've heard that name somewhere before," he said, sounding distant, as though he were trying to recall a past memory.
"Taylor's fiancée?" I asked to see if that would help him out.
I heard the sound of palm to forehead. "Of course! Duh! What's up Nasettia?" His voice sounded creepy in a sleazy way, but I ignored that fact.
"Umm, Sean... I was wondering whether you'd tell me what Taylor's keeping from me," I said, biting my lower lip in anticipation. "I think you might know, because that's the vibe I got when you arrived that day."
There was a slight pause as though he were planning his next words carefully.
"What? Hasn't Tay told you about Chelsea yet?" he asked. He was sounding... smug?
I froze. In my life, there's never been a person named Chelsea. I knew of no one by that name, but I now had reason to find her.
"No... no he hasn't..." I trailed off, trying to remember if he's ever mentioned a 'Chelsea' before. My memory came up blank.
"Look, Nasettia, I have to get back to work," Sean announced, drawing me back to reality.
"Okay. Thanks, Sean. Bye," I finished before cancelling the call.
* * *
The entire trip home from the park, I couldn't even bear to look at Taylor. I felt somehow betrayed that I'd never been told about this Chelsea, even if it wasn't a past relationship. As we came into town, Tay could no longer hold his curiosity.
"What's wrong, Nas? You and Sam haven't been fighting again have you?" he asked, reaching over for my hand. I pulled it away from his reach, not wanting him to touch me at the moment.
I felt tears escape my eyes, and I felt Tay's arms watching me in shock. I had never before rejected his touch.
"Nas?! Nas, what's wrong, sweetheart?!" Tay was somewhat panicking as we turned into the driveway.
"Nothing," I muttered, looking out at the expanse of land beyond the car window.
The car came to a stop and I raced out the car, grabbing Tahlia on my rush into the house. I left Tay sitting shocked in the driver's seat, his eyes following my every move. I was planning for him to follow me in, and then I could confront him.
No one was in the kitchen, but I found both Dad and Becky in the lounge room, cuddling up on the couch. Tahlia was sleeping on my hip still, and so I quickly directed for Dad to take her.
"What's wrong, Nassy?" Becky asked, worried.
I shook my head before heading back to the kitchen where I could hear Tay's cautious footsteps entering the house. I wiped the tears as I marched.
The sobs became more violent as I saw Tay straight on. He walked up to me as I wiped my eyes, his lips coming down on mine. I held a strong head and tried to push him away, but that only made him hold me tighter - for once, his embrace didn't feel comforting.
After many attempts to get him away, I was compelled to use my palm to slap his face away from mine. Immediately, he pulled away.
"Nas, please tell me what's wrong," he pleaded.
"Oh, so you think that you can get me to tell you something when you continue to keep things from me?" I retorted, beyond anger by now.
"Nas, what's the matter?" he asked again.
That was it for my tolerance.
My fingers reached the rim of a dinner plate. I held it up to him, showing him that I was prepared to throw it.
"Who is Chelsea?" I asked.
His mouth fluttered open and closed until he finally managed to spill the words, "You don't need to know about her."
I coughed up another sob, making my throat thick and heavy. Through blurry eyes, I threw the plate at Tay. He shielded himself before it crashed to the ground, spilling in millions of pieces. I heard immediate silence from Dad and Becky.
"Who. Is. Chelsea?" I asked again, this time through gritted teeth.
Tay put his arms in front of him as I picked up another plate, a twin of the previous one. "She's no one Nas. I promise," Tay's eyes were beginning to water, but that didn't stop me from throwing the second plate. This time, I think it cut his forearm.
I wanted to say sorry, but I wanted an answer more.
As I was about to pick up another plate, I spotted the knife block and pulled out the big chef's knife. I pointed it at Tay, who put his arms up in surrender immediately. "WHO IS CHELSEA?!" I screamed.
"Nas, please, put the knife down. She's no one - you don't need to know about her." Tears were pooling from his cheeks, but I made my advance on him with the lethal knife.
I knew he wouldn't tell me. By now, he should have, but I could see it wasn't coming.
"Get out!" I yelled, making him back towards the front door.
"Nas?!" he said, completely shocked.
"Get out Taylor Elliott! A marriage is based on trust, yet, I'm not getting that from you! Just get out - I hate you!" My heart sank a million miles at my words.
He looked at me with pleading eyes; pleas that were not going to be met unless he answered to me first. After a few moments of me exiling my 'fiancée' out of the door, he finally took the hint and retreated to his car.
I watched as he slowly drove away before collapsing onto my knees. I threw the knife in a random direction and held my head with my palms. The sobs became more violent as I whispered, "I love you," but I knew that wasn't the phrase he'd heard only moments ago.