"You really didn't have to do this," Michelle said, her eyes locking on the plate I set before her on the kitchen island.
"It's nothing," I said, turning back to the stove, where a hot pan sat ready to fry up more eggs, where the rest of the sausages stayed warm in another pan, and a heap of bacon sat on a plate coated with paper towels to pick up some of the excess grease. It wasn't the full English I would've liked to have made—Michelle didn't have beans or mushrooms—but I'd grilled up some tomato and fried potatoes and plated it all with some toast and butter on the side.
An Americanized English breakfast of sorts.
I took a sip of my coffee and made sure all the burners were off, my eyes shooting to Lila in her high chair as Michelle leaned towards her with another spoonful of baby food. She was dressed and ready for work, and I could already see Lila's breakfast getting all over her.
"Here, I've got it," I said, hurrying over to my daughter and pulling up a seat in front of her as Michelle handed me the small spoon.
"Thanks." Michelle was quiet as she dug into her meal, and I could feel exhaustion begin to settle over me as I sat, as I stuck the spoon into Lila's wet, pink mouth.
I hadn't slept much last night. After Mads had left me in the living room, I wasn't even sure how long I stayed down here before heading up, but when I got to our room—her childhood bedroom—she was already asleep.
Or pretending to be. I wasn't sure I wanted to find out the truth.
So, I'd slid beneath the sheets beside her and stared up at the ceiling for a little while, then I turned my back to her and stared at the shaded window, and then, finally, I turned onto my other side and stared at her back, her long brown hair, spilled over the pillow. She was wearing one of my old t-shirts, as she usually did. And maybe I shouldn't have taken that to mean anything, but it was comforting to know that she didn't hate me enough to forgo her usual bedtime attire just because it had once belonged to me.
Unless she was just too tired to look for something else.
I tossed and turned, and the minutes dragged, but my mind never turned off. Wondering if maybe things weren't as bad as I thought. And when Mads turned over in the middle of the night, sighing contentedly as her beautiful face turned to me, I thought for sure we would get through this.
Because I would do whatever it took to get us through this.
But then, what felt like the next second, I was sure she would never forgive me. Because the way she'd left me downstairs, the exhausted way she'd said, "I'm too tired right now", the way she hadn't even turned back before heading up the stairs, made me wonder if she'd even want to get past this.
Our relationship, our love, was perfect in so many ways. But the imperfections—our faults—they seemed to always catch us between her insecurities and my poor choices. We fed into each other that way, and I'd fed right into her insecurities once more with what I'd done—the choice I'd made.
And I wouldn't blame her if she never forgave me for it.
These were the thoughts that wouldn't leave me alone, and when the sky lightened beyond the shaded window, glowing around the blinds, I got up—couldn't be alone in the room with those thoughts any longer. Even with Mads beside me. Not without doing something.
Not without moving.
It was a quarter to seven when I walked out into the hallway, and all was quiet in the house, so I checked Lila before coming downstairs, and to my surprise, she was awake in her crib. Awake and quiet.
She gave me a toothy smile when I peered down at her.
"There's my girl," I whispered, and her smile grew as her legs kicked, as her little fists punched the air. "Good morning, sweet girl."
I lifted her from her crib and held her close, her small body still warm from sleep, her weight a comfort against my shoulder as I touched my lips to her soft head.
Maybe it was the lack of sleep, maybe it was the way her fingers curled into the shirt I'd thrown on before leaving our room, maybe it was the fact that her blue eyes looked so much like Madelyn's as they stared up into mine, but I felt a lump form in my throat and tears burn behind my eyes as I held her, stared at her.
"Oh."
I turned around to find Michelle standing in the doorway of Lila's room, her bathrobe wrapped around her, a towel wrapped around her hair.
I looked away quickly, hoping she hadn't noticed the tears in my eyes.
"I'm sorry, I didn't—I didn't think you'd be awake," she said, clutching the top of her robe.
"'S'alright," I said, sniffling as I kept my gaze locked on Lila. "She was awake, so I figured I'd—"
"Oh, I didn't hear her," Michelle said, staying right where she was. "I've kind of taken over the morning shift since she and Maddie got here, hoping to give Maddie some more rest."
I nodded and risked a glance at her even though the lump was still present in my throat. "She wasn't crying, but she was awake."
There was a pause, and Michelle's voice had changed when she said, "Okay. Well... I'll finish getting ready and leave you two alone. I'm sure you've missed your mornings with her."
I didn't say that Mads was the one who had taken over mornings with her. That by the end of my four months on the film, I'd let her take them over because I was tired.
After changing Lila's diaper, I'd heard the dull roar of a blowdryer coming from the other end of the hall, so I made my way downstairs with Lila in my arms, then sat with her on the couch for a little while, cuddling her close as I gave her a bottle of Madelyn's breast milk. But I couldn't sit still much longer, so I'd found myself rummaging through the fridge, wondering what I could make for breakfast.
An almost full English was the result.
Michelle made a satisfied noise as she took that first bite. "This is delicious."
"I'm glad you like it."
I fed Lila another spoonful of pear, watching as her tongue poked around in her mouth and out onto her lips as my mind went to Mads, upstairs in our room, presumably still sleeping. When would she wake up? How would she be feeling? Would she want to talk about it or would she still be too upset?
I didn't know if I'd be able to put off talking about it any longer, but I told myself I had to be patient. I was the one who screwed up. I had to give her the chance to work through it in her own way, in her own time. I had to be the one to try and make amends.
And I was ready to. Ready to wait as long as she needed me to. Logically, anyway. The emotional, exhausted part of me was hoping against hope that we could get this done and over with today. Now, if possible.
Before it could get any worse.
Because I felt awful. Even more awful than yesterday. Which probably had a lot to do with the fact that I hadn't slept, but I wasn't about to—
"You look tired."
Michelle was cutting into a sausage when I looked over at her, having barely registered what she said.
"Hm?"
"I said you look tired," she repeated, eyeing me like she knew something I didn't. "Did you sleep?"
But there was no way she could've known anything. She'd gone to bed before us last night. And Mads had gone to sleep soon after.
Unless she'd heard us talking down here.
"Not really," I said, running a hand over my face and sitting back in my seat, the muscles between my shoulders aching.
Michelle hummed into her coffee cup. "Jet lag?"
If only it was just jet lag. "Amongst other things."
We were quiet again, and the next spoonful of pears didn't make it into Lila's mouth. "Shit," I muttered, then realized my blunder, but didn't glance at Michelle as I started scraping the blob of pear off Lila's pajamas. "Sorry."
"I have a bib for her." She got up from her seat and walked around the counter as I did my best to clean Lila up. I had to refrain from saying the sarcastic remark that was sitting on the tip of my tongue.
"Here," Michelle said, not pausing to hand it to me, only reaching over me to wrap it around Lila's tiny neck.
I didn't think to thank her, didn't think to say anything else as Michelle sat again, returning to the breakfast I'd made just for something to do, a way to channel my energy and hopefully get my thoughts off their dangerous track.
No such luck.
It was going to be just us today. Just us for the first time in weeks. Mads and I—with all of the truth between us. Concerning her, and concerning me. And I was terrified that she wouldn't want to be alone with me. Afraid she'd decide to head out somewhere without me—ask me to stay home because she needed time to process.
And I would do it. I would let her have that time if it was what she wanted.
But holy hell, I was praying she wouldn't.
"Everything okay?" Michelle asked then. It might've been minutes later—it might've been hours for all I could tell.
But Lila was still sitting calmly in from of me, waiting for her next spoonful of pears, so minutes was the more likely amount of time.
I looked at my mother-in-law, who had once looked back at me with nothing but disdain in her eyes. We'd come so far from that time in our lives, but if she were to find out the truth, if she were to find out what I'd done, I was certain that disdain wouldn't be the only thing in her eyes.
Still, I found myself saying, "I screwed up."
It was more than I'd even told my own mum, and I'd spoken to her several times over the last few weeks since it had happened. But each time, though part of me wanted to rid myself of the weight of my mistake, I hadn't been able admit it to her. The shame in admitting what had happened, what I'd done, was too much to bear.
I couldn't do it now either. With Michelle. If she asked me, I wouldn't be able to tell her the truth.
But I'd have to tell her truth. Michelle would expect nothing less.
And then I'd really be in trouble.
Michelle looked at me, thoughtful as she chewed a bite of her breakfast. Then, she set down her fork and knife with a sigh and asked the question I could see forming in her eyes, though it wasn't the one I expected.
"How bad?"
Her brown eyes were soft, concerned as she lifted her coffee cup. As she studied me.
And this... this I could own up to.
"Bad."
Michelle sighed again, her eyes shifting away from me and going somewhere else as she took another sip of coffee.
When she didn't say anything, guilt filled me to the brim yet again. My entire body ached from it. My muscles were sore and tired, and I wished I'd slept. Knew that there had been no help for it. It might not even happen today or tonight if Mads didn't forgive me.
And I'd just have to live like that.
I'd just have to live like this.
"Well..." Michelle started to say, setting down her coffee cup and lifting her fork and knife again. "Whatever it is, I'm sure you two will work through it."
With a fork already spearing a piece of sausage, she sliced into her eggs and piled it all on, then took a bite.
"I'm not so sure," I said, turning back to Lila. Staring at the little girl I'd created with a woman I loved more than life itself, and wondering how the hell I could've done so wrong by her already, only six months into her life.
"Well, I am," Michelle said, her voice firm as ever. "You two have dealt with troubles before, and you've worked your way through them. Why should this be any different?"
She didn't know. She didn't know that this wasn't just "troubles". I'd cheated. I'd felt the need to seek solace in another woman during a time when Mads needed me more than ever.
I didn't know how we'd come back from it. And if we did manage to, how long it might take to get there. How long it might take for things to return to some semblance of normalcy.
I knew I was ready to put in the work to get there, but I didn't yet know if Mads would even be willing to try.
The lump was back in my throat, and the heat returned to my eyes.
"Maddie loves you, Harry," Michelle said then, and this time, I didn't try to hide my tears from her. I no longer had the energy. "I think she loves you more now than she ever has before."
Her eyes were wide and earnest as they stared right into my tired, teary gaze—and I wanted to believe her. Wished that what she was saying was making me feel better, not worse.
"And I know you love her," Michelle said, wiping her mouth with a napkin. "You'll get through this." Her eyes shot to Lila when the baby whimpered—I wasn't delivering her breakfast into her mouth fast enough, it seemed. "No matter how hard it may be... If for nothing else, there's your reason to, right there."
Lila's brow had scrunched up, and her cheeks were quickly turning red.
"Shh," I said as she started to cry, digging into the little jar of baby food quickly, lifting the spoon to her mouth. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
She accepted the spoonful somewhat indignantly, but quieted down, her cheeks returning to their normal color. And I watched her, feeling a tear trickle down my cheek. I wiped it away quickly though, and kept my eyes on my daughter as I continued to feed her, as Michelle shuffled around behind me—clearing her plate, it sounded like.
Her words lingered at the forefront of my mind. My reason to work through this—our reason to work through this—was the little girl sitting before me. The little girl who depended on us. The little girl who was innocent in all of this, who we'd brought into this world out of a love for each other so deep, we'd wanted nothing more than to share it with someone else. Someone we could pour some of it into.
If for nothing else, Lila was our reason.
I could only hope Mads would feel the same way.
Michelle left for work not long later, leaving me and Lila with a kiss on the cheek each, and an extra little bit of encouragement for me.
"Don't count it as a loss before you've even tried to turn it into a win, okay?" With that, she'd patted my shoulder and left.
It was just what I needed to hear.
But it didn't make me any less nervous when Madelyn made her way downstairs mere minutes later.
Lila was still sitting in her high chair, and I was cleaning up the dishes.
Mads' gasp was what got my attention from where I stood at the sink, but my panic quickly dissipated when I saw her smiling at Lila—who was grinning right back at her.
"There's my girl," Mads said, her voice light, her eyes bright and her smile wide as she walked to wear Lila sat. "Good morning," she said, unbuckling the baby and lifting her up and out of the high chair. "Good morning, baby girl."
I watched, feeling something like an intruder as Mads littered Lila's cheeks with kisses, much to Lila's delight. Her giggles should've made me feel better, but somehow, watching the two of them, I only felt worse.
Like it would be easy enough for them to have a good life without me.
Like, perhaps in Madelyn's mind, I was already gone.
"There's breakfast here if you want it."
"Um," Mads glanced in my direction, but her eyes scanned the food in pans, and stayed far away from mine. "Maybe in a few minutes."
She was still looking at Lila, running a hand over the baby's soft hair as she studied our daughter. But I was studying her, the sponge and dish in my hands forgotten as they hung over the sink. She was still in her pajamas—my t-shirt—and she'd thrown on a pair of shorts. Of course she didn't want to eat yet. She'd just woken up, and she never wanted to eat right after waking. Her beautiful blue eyes were still working their way open, but she was smiling.
And if that was because of Lila, and only Lila, I would take it.
It was better than the alternative.
"I'll get you some coffee," I said, drying my hands quickly before opening the cabinet for a mug.
"I can get it—"
"I've got it." I turned and tried to give her a small smile over my shoulder.
She gave me one back, her eyes falling to the floor between us before shifting back to the baby in her arms.
I fixed her coffee as fast as I could, hoping it didn't seem like I was rushing. It was weird, because it felt like we'd had a fight, but we hadn't even argued last night. After I'd admitted what happened, she'd just gone upstairs. And I'd given her time to get settled before going up after her.
So the fight was still ahead—I knew it would be a fight—and as much as I wanted to get it over with, I was okay with putting it off as long as possible, too.
"Thank you," she murmured from where she was sitting on the couch with Lila in her lap.
"You're welcome." I sat at the other end, knowing there was still cleaning to do, knowing there were so many things I should be saying—but I just sat there, my head propped up on one hand, and watched them.
Mads took a sip of her coffee and set it down on the end table next to her, smiling down at Lila as the baby opened and closed her tiny fists in her mother's direction. "She ate?"
"She did. I gave her the bottle in the fridge and she had some pears."
"Good," Mads said with a smile. "That must be why you're in such a good mood. Your little belly's full." She took her fingers and rubbed that round belly, and Lila babbled loudly. "And of course because your daddy's here, right?"
My heart ached.
"Right," Mads said, answering her own question before reaching for her coffee cup again and taking another sip.
I almost didn't say anything. I didn't know how to feel after she'd said that—what to think. Was she okay with everything? Or was she only saying that for Lila's sake? But she couldn't have been saying that for Lila's sake because Lila couldn't understand a damn word she was saying. So if she was saying that for my sake, did that mean she'd forgiven me? Did that mean she was willing to put this behind us?
"And... how do you feel about my being here now?"
Maybe it wasn't the best way to open up the conversation, but I didn't know how else to do it. How to put it off any longer. Not when I so desperately wanted to share in their happiness—share in their love again.
Mads took a slow, deep breath as she stared down at Lila, who was now pulling at the necklace her mother never took off. Madelyn's hand was the only thing preventing Lila from yanking the chain off her neck.
"I don't know."
It wasn't the answer I was hoping for, but it wasn't the answer I'd feared either.
We were both quiet for a few minutes—only the little babbling sounds Lila was making filled the silence. But I couldn't stand the quiet.
"Did you want to talk about—"
"Not really, no," she said, exhaustion coloring the words. She let out a big sigh.
I was prepared for this—or I thought I was. I figured there was a good chance she wouldn't want to talk about everything right away. And as hard as it would be, I would wait until she was ready. I could be patient. I had to give her the chance to work through—
"But I guess we have to, don't we? You haven't really left us any other choice." She stood up then, taking Lila with her.
And I absorbed the blow, knowing there would be worse ones to come.
I watched her for a moment, unsure whether I should get up and follow her. But she set Lila down in her playpen and headed into the kitchen, and I figured that was my cue.
Now was as good a time as any.
But I didn't know what to say. How to lead into this. It sort of felt like maybe she should. Like I shouldn't try to guide her thoughts.
Mads didn't seem to be in any rush though. She took her time walking around the counter and looked into each pan, then opened up a cabinet to grab herself a plate.
"D'you want some eggs with it?"
"I'm good with this."
I sat at the counter, feeling helpless as she collected some food, and I couldn't sit still. I couldn't be sure whether she just didn't want to have the conversation, or if she was enjoying making me sweat.
And the fact that I was so nervous made me want to talk. Should I start with another apology? Another apology certainly couldn't go astray. Or maybe I should start with a better explanation of what happened. I didn't think I'd really summed it up well enough for her to understand that it truly hadn't meant anything to me.
But what I found myself saying was, "Aren't you going to heat that up?"
Mads only stared at the plate she set down on the counter and dug her fork in, took a bite. "It's still warm."
Her coffee was next to her, and I almost got up to top it off, but when she stabbed more of her breakfast, I then found myself asking, "Did you want to sit?"
"I'm fine."
Quiet again. She kept her eyes on her plate, on the counter as she chewed and swallowed her food, then looked over at Lila in her pen. Some sweet little tune was playing from one of her toys, and it was a strange contrast to the mood in the room.
"So what happened?"
I looked at her. She looked at me, and it was the first time she met my eye since coming downstairs. And her eyes...
They were swollen.
"How did it happen, I should say. And when?" She spoke casually, no current of anger beneath her words, and her eyes went back down to her plate.
A burning hot pit of shame yawned open in my gut. "Do you really want to know—"
"I asked, didn't I?" Another casual question.
I sighed and rubbed my sweaty palms along my shorts. "It was a few weeks ago. Vanessa asked if I might want to run the scene with her. It was her first kiss on camera, so she was nervous."
"Poor girl." Mads took a sip of coffee but showed no other reaction.
I paused. Saying it aloud... it was bad. Worse than it had seemed at the time. I'd felt like I was merely doing Vanessa a favor. Being a good colleague. And I couldn't hear the contempt in Madelyn's statement, but just the fact that she'd said it...
It wasn't undeserved.
"So, um..." I gulped. "So, we went to her dressing room and ran the scene a few times with our scripts. And then when we both felt like we knew our lines, we ran it without. And—"
"You kissed her."
"When we were supposed to, yeah."
"And it got heated?"
"Not too heated. Just... more than was right for the characters. But it was nothing more than a kiss."
"And that's all that happened?"
"I—yes. I ended it as soon as it felt wrong."
Mads met my eye again. Studied me.
I held the gaze, willing her to see that it was the truth.
She pushed her plate aside, leaving most of her food untouched, and planted her elbows on the counter, hugging them close to her body as she leaned forward. Her eyes went down to the counter, and it was clear she was thinking, considering, before she looked up at me again.
"It felt wrong."
"It did."
"And you didn't have sex with her."
"What? No! Mads, I told you—"
"You said this happened a few weeks ago." She shrugged. "You also sent me away two weeks before the end of filming, so forgive me if I was forced to wonder."
My mouth fell open, but I had nothing to say to that. I hadn't even considered—
Her eyes had fallen away from mine.
"Mads, that—that never even crossed my mind. You have to believe me. When I said you should come back here, I was only thinking of you. Only hoping it would make you feel better, that's it. I swear it. And I would never do that to you." I reached for her hand before I could stop myself, but when I couldn't reach it, when she didn't offer it—I slowly reeled mine back in, trying not to let on how much it hurt. I squeezed my eyes shut. "Mads, I—I don't know what to say to make you believe me. All I have is my word, and I know that I've basically ruined that at this point."
Her eyes widened in agreement.
"But what I'm telling you is the truth. And I don't know what the right thing to say is, or how to make this better other than to be honest with you. I did not sleep with Vanessa. I never even considered it because I'm not in love with her. I haven't built a life, a family with her. Because she's not you. No one ever will be."
If there were tears in her eyes, any kind of emotion on her face, I couldn't tell. She kept her gaze fixed on the counter. But she was fidgeting.
"We—you and I—we've had a rough few months. I know I don't need to remind you. I know you've basically been to hell and back, and I'm sorry I wasn't able to do more for you sooner. But that was the only reason why I sent you here. Because I knew you needed your family. Nothing more. And it's no excuse, but when I kissed her, I missed you."
She winced. Didn't look up.
"I got caught up in it, yes, and it felt horrible. And I know it's made you feel horrible to hear about it, and I'm sorry, but I—"
"Then why even tell me?" Her gaze landed on me like a pin, sharp enough to take my breath away.
"I—you, you asked."
"No, why even tell me in the first place?"
"I—what do you—"
"If this was really nothing, if it meant nothing to you when you kissed her, if you really didn't spend the last two weeks sleeping with her, then why tell me at all? Especially after all I said to you yesterday about how I was feeling. Don't you realize that you telling me about this when you did, that you telling me at all feels like nothing but a huge setback for me?"
Flabbergasted was the only word that truly summed up how I was feeling. "I—I wanted to be honest with—"
"Do you realize," she started, her voice becoming shaky as tears filled her eyes, as her bottom lip quivered, "that I was just starting to feel like myself again when you laid all that on me? When you made me feel like—like all my worst fears weren't unfounded. Like I pushed you into kissing her. Like you'd already reached the breaking point I was so afraid you'd reach."
A tear dropped, and she tried to hide it with a hand over her mouth, tried to stay strong, but her face wrinkled up, and I hated myself.
I was so concerned with my own guilt, so preoccupied by the way I was feeling, that I hadn't given any consideration to what she'd actually said to me last night. How she might really feel about my confession given all that she'd revealed to me with hers.
And it was wrong. I was wrong.
In so many ways.
She sniffled, hard, trying to stop the tears. Trying to collect herself again.
"But no. You didn't stop to think. You were only concerned with easing your own guilt, right? Making sure you felt okay about what you did. And as long as you're sorry, I should feel okay about it, too, right? I should just be able to forgive you—forgive myself—and move on, right?"
There were no words I could say to make this okay. To make her feel better. Because I'd already done enough damage in telling her the truth.
"I wish you hadn't told me, Harry. I really do. And I wish—I wish you never felt like you had to kiss her in the first place."
When she couldn't control her emotions any longer, I couldn't control myself either. I was up, on my feet, and rounding the counter to get to her before I realized what I was doing.
And when I pulled her to my body, she didn't rear back, she didn't try to pull away. She submitted wholly to the embrace I gave her, even wrapped her arms around me and hugged me back.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, fully realizing and understanding just what I'd done to her. "I'm so sorry, my girl."
She unraveled herself from me slowly a minute later, when her quiet sobs grew even quieter, until they didn't come at all.
Her eyes were red when she pulled away, her nose, cheeks and lips stained pink. She kept her hands on my forearms for a moment, trying to catch her breath, and I lifted my hands to her cheeks, wiped away the tracks of her tears.
Still feeling like the guiltiest man to ever walk the earth.
She let out a steady breath. "I want you to come to therapy with me."
It took me a moment to understand what it was she was offering, but when I did—"Of course." I ran my thumb over her bottom lip. "Yeah, of course I will."
Her next breath was still steady, but a bit longer, and her eyes drifted from my lips to my throat, keeping far away from mine. "Good."
She didn't move away immediately, so I kept her in my arms as long as she'd let me.
"My next session's tomorrow."
"I'm there."
Lila started crying then, and when Mads let go of me, she reached up to wipe her eyes before hurrying over to our daughter in her playpen. I watched as she lifted her out, as she put on a smile for the baby and announced that, yes, it was probably time for a diaper change.
And I watched as she walked Lila into the next room, leaving me alone with the food to pack away and the dishes to clean and the feeling like she'd just thrown me a lifeline in the midst of a storm I'd created, and had dragged her into.
Leaving me to hold on for dear life.
___
Author's Note:
Ooh, hello, I love this conversation H & M have at the end!!!! Haz thinking honesty is always the option, and Mads letting him know in no uncertain terms that sometimes, honesty can be just as selfish as keeping a secret. Oof! Love me some blurred lines and gray areas, friends! In case you haven't already noticed that, haha.
Anyway, please let me know what you make of this turn of events! I know you've been waiting for it for a while :) So I hope it lived up to your expectations! I've been slowly, but surely making my way through the wonderful comments on the last several chapters, and every time I start responding, I'm reminded just how lucky I am to have such thoughtful, enthusiastic readers!! You guys are AMAZING. Truly.
So, thank you for everything, as always! I can never say it enough. I hope you've had a wonderful two weeks, and I hope the next two are even better! Lots and lots of love. xx