A Thousand Letters(68)

"Enough."

Jack straightened up, his face tight. "Elliot, it's not what you think."

I ignored him. My eyes were on my sister, the liar. "I can't believe you would do this to Charlie."

"Oh, please." She tightened up her face and deflected, shooting insults at me to justify her wrongdoings. "Don't pretend you know what it's like. You've been alone your whole life — you don't understand what it means to be married or have kids. You don't understand what it's like to have a demanding career or real responsibility. You sit around all day and write in your stupid notebooks and hang out with Sophie and take care of someone else's kids because you have no life. It's pathetic."

My eyes narrowed, and I drew myself up, feeling taller, bigger, wider than I had before, fueled by my anger, by the betrayal. "You're right. I don't know what it's like. I don't know what it's like to be selfish and self-absorbed because I work every day not to be like you. I don't know what it's like to hurt everyone around me so I'll feel better about myself because I try to put other people's needs above my own, even yours. I don't know what it's like to cheat on the man I promised to spend my life with—"

"Because you have no one," she scoffed. "You are so pious, Elliot."

I glared at her, emboldened. "And you are such a bitch, Mary."

Jack's face bent in anger at Mary. "Leave her alone, Mary."

"What?" she shrieked, gaping at him, betrayed.

I ignored her, instead leveling him with a look I felt burning from deep in my belly, undeterred by his standing up for me. "And you. How could you do this to Charlie, to your best friend? To Mary, even, who you say you love? How could you? You used me to hurt her, but I'm not a weapon or a tool to be used by you or anyone."

"I'm sorry," he said, looking not at all sorry, "but I only did what I had to do to get her back."

I shook my head. "I should be hurt that you didn't really care about me, but I'm not — I never wanted you. I'm only sad that you used me to hurt the people I love." Wade. Charlie. I looked them both over. "You have until tonight to tell him or I will."

Mary's face turned a furious shade of red, her eyes flashing. "You can't do that."

"I can, and I will." The words were flat, direct. "I will not lie for you. I will not hurt the one person in this house who's been there for me. I will not betray your children by lying for the sake of you, who cares about no one but herself."

Jack turned to Mary, taking her arm. "It's fine. Let's tell him tonight. Together."

She ripped her arm away and turned on him, fuming. "No. I won't be blackmailed by her."

"You're going to tell him anyway. Why not make it tonight?"

"She won't do it," she said, looking at me, but talking about me like I wasn't there. "She doesn't have the guts. Sweet little Elliot, the doormat."

"Try me."

Something in her eyes faltered, like she was seeing me for the first time, but she slammed the door closed on the thought when Jack reached for her arm again.

"Mary, we'll tell him tonight."

"I don't want to," she yelled petulantly.

His face hardened. "Because of her or because of me?"

"Don't do that, Jack. Don't make this about you and me."

Something in him changed, something fundamental, and it was like an iron curtain slamming between them. "You've had me waiting for years. Years. And I was stupid enough to think you'd actually go through with it." He stepped away, and her face sprang open with regret.

"Jack, wait! I want to tell him … I'll tell him, just not—"

He brushed past me. "No, you don't. You won't. I should have known," he said to himself as she chased him down the hallway toward the door. "It's really too bad you couldn't be more like Elliot. She would give anything for the people she loves. You can't even give yourself to me, not in the way that matters."

"Wait! Please, talk to me." She grabbed his arm, and he spun around.

"I'm through talking." And with that, he blew through the door, slamming it hard enough to make the windows rattle.

She stood there in front of the door with her back to me, shoulders heaving for a long moment. And when she whipped around, her face was twisted, contorted with rage.

"You," she whispered. "Get out."

I swallowed. "Whatever you want," I said as I walked to my coat, slipping my feet in the boots that I'd left in the entry after the snow.

"Get out. Get out! Get out!" she shrieked, and I slipped on my coat, grabbing my bag.

Heat radiated off of her as I walked past and opened the door. "I'm telling him tonight." My words were firm, quiet, and when I closed the door behind me, she screamed, the sound punctuated by the thump of something hitting the door.





23





Revelation





Revelations

Begin and end

With the truth.



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-M. White