Marie felt a knot being formed in her chest. As she spoke those words, as she said that wretched name, his eyes flickered with recognition. Her face flushed with disgust, and she covered her mouth in attempts to stifle a confused sob.
"I'm sorry, I'm terribly sorry. I should have told you sooner, but I knew you would be hurt. You know this doesn't change me though, you know that. Right?" his words spilled out in desperation, his voice breaking as he stared into Marie's eyes. She hesitated to pull away from his gaze, watching his figure become even more blurred as she struggled to see through her tears.
How long had he known? How long had he kept his identity a secret from her?
All those times Marie mentioned that name to him, and never once had he thought to admit the truth. Time and time again she had told him of this Charles while he simply nodded with false sympathy, not uttering a single word.
Finally Marie allowed herself to look away, letting out a sigh much like a cold breath from a tomb. Her stomach felt tight, her ribs like a cage around her pounding heart.
Forgiveness did not come easy to her, and she was unsure how long it would take for her to understand why Mr. Whitlock did what he did. Lies, deceit, and manipulation. Habits that were not easily broken, as she knew far too well. Habits that even after over half a century of practice were likely still dormant inside of his heart.
And that was a risk she wasn't sure she was ready to take.
"Marie, listen. Please. If you let me explain, I can help you understand." he dropped his voice to a low whisper, but Marie struggled to focus on his words.
"I think I should go." she said at last, those five words taking nearly every ounce of strength she could muster. She turned away before she could see the remorse heavy in Mr. Whitlock's eyes, although he had seen far more than enough of the pain in her's.
Marie did not bother glancing behind her, as she usually always did when she left the old house, but there was no reason to this day, for he was not there to stare back at her.
***
"Oh you're home! How was your day, my dear?" Anne exclaimed as Marie walked through Eve's front door, with so much enthusiasm that the phrase grated at Marie's ears. She considered answering with a simple lie, but no words came out as she opened her mouth. Instead she resorted to not replying at all, hoping her mother would believe that she hadn't heard her.
Eve and Anne exchanged a seemingly judgmental look, one that Marie was far too exhausted to acknowledge. But as much as she wished to avoid speaking with them, they were persistent.
"Is something wrong? Do you wish to talk about it?" Eve pressed, gently.
"Oh, Marie, did you happen to get the chance to speak to your grandmother about the house? Did she budge at all?" perhaps Anne had hopes of changing the subject to make Marie more comfortable, but this question only made Marie's frustration spark into a hot-tempered fire.
"Yes, I spoke to her, mother." Marie snapped suddenly, regretting her tone immediately as she saw the expressions on their faces.
"Oh dear, I think we've upset her." Anne muttered, her eyes wide. Eve simply looked away, biting her lip with hesitation.
"I'm sorry." Marie sighed, "I would rather be left alone if that's alright."
"Take all the time you need." her sister said sympathetically.
"One more thing before you leave, though. Can you please tell me what your grandmother said?" Anne folded her hands in her lap, staring expectantly at her daughter.
"Mother, I really don't want to talk about it." Marie said, as calmly as she could.
"Maybe you just didn't press hard enough, you know grandmother can be stubborn but I'm sure she'd listen if you told her how much it would mean to me. She trusts you, you know."
"Please, I-"
"How about you go back and visit again tomorrow, and really try this time. I promise that-"
"Have you ever considered what I may want in this situation? Perhaps convincing an old woman on her death bed to change her mind just to help my selfish mother isn't something I find enjoyable." Marie fought hard to keep her voice steady, although her words flew out like hot blades so quickly that she couldn't control herself.
"How dare you." Anne narrowed her eyes, disappointment contorting her face into a frown, "She is your grandmother, not just some old woman on her death bed. That is incredibly disrespectful. And I am not selfish, I am anything but that. Do you know the sacrifices I have made for you?"
"What? What could you have possibly sacrificed for me? All you've done is molded me into someone I hate, someone full of mistrust, pathetic ambition, and spite. I can't think of one thing in this moment that you have given up for my own good. So tell me, what comes to your mind?"
"You are not someone hateful, Marie!"
"Yes, I am. Because do you know who I sound an awful lot like right now? You. And I can't stand it, mother, I can't stand it." Marie wiped frustrated tears from her cheeks as she raised her voice in anger. But Anne could not hear it, for she began to yell over her daughter.
"I left everything for you and your sister. And for my mother. I left behind my career, my house, my friends, I even left behind my husband. The father to my own children! Do you understand? I had to start our lives completely over, all to take care of your grandmother in the short time she had left. Are you not grateful for the things I've done, Marie? Because as of now, it sure feels like you're the selfish one here." Anne folded her arms with an exasperated exhale, shaking her head at Marie.
"Oh, stop it with that. You may have fooled everyone else, but not me!" a laugh escaped Marie as she rolled her eyes.
"What on earth are you talking about?" Anne said slowly, gaping incredulously.
"The only reason you left our home was to have an excuse to abandon father. You played the victim card, as you always seem to do, using the entire situation as a crutch to boost your own appearance. It's disgusting, mother. Your behavior is revolting to me!" Marie's volume matched her mother's now, loud and uncontrollable. In that moment she couldn't remember if there had ever been another instance where she had talked to her mother in such a candid manner. She knew for a fact, though, that this was the first time she had lost her composure to this much of an extreme.
"That is not true! What has he told you? Your father is a liar, you know! He had no right to be in your lives, and of course I had to find a way out but that is not why I came here. I can't believe what you are saying to me right now, Marie. You are spitting horrible, vile things in my face and I think it's best if you stop talking."
"Are you serious? You are the one who brought all of this up! All I wanted was to be on my own, but you had to make it about you, when it was clear now was not the time." Marie forced the words from her lips, her throat feeling raw and tight. Then she took a few shallow breaths as she struggled to cool herself, before speaking again with an apologetic tone. "Listen, for a while I was considering staying here. Moving back. But honestly, this is exhausting. I'm sick of this, and quite frankly I'm sick of you."
Anne gave up her frantic yelling as well, instead allowing two tears to roll from her eyes and down her cheeks. She pressed her hands to her chest, as if hoping to dull an ache in her heart, and Marie wondered if the woman had blocked out most of what her daughter had said.
"I'm sorry if I hurt you, and Eve I am terribly sorry you had to hear this. I said what I said, though, and I believe me returning home will be better for all of us. Goodbye."
"You're leaving? Just like that?" Anne looked up, "You just throw out false accusations, sprinkling in a bunch of cruel words just for fun, then run away? I thought I raised you better, truly. I thought I raised you much better than this. I-"
"Mother, that's enough." Eve placed her hand on her mother's shoulder, her voice firm. Then she slipped a reassuring gesture to her sister, nodding as if to tell her she could go and that they would be alright without her.
And with that, Marie packed her few bags with a heavy heart and heat burning behind her eyes. Her emotions were so burnt out from her explosion that she nearly forgot about Mr. Whitlock until the dreadfully rainy trip back home.