The Story of Me (Carnage #2)(12)
“What you not telling me, George?” God, sometimes his intuition pisses me off, so I bare-face lie to him.
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit, you’re lying to me.”
Up until I was ten years old, Marley, Jackson, myself, Jodie and Jimmie had been inseparable. We lived a few streets apart, went to the same preschool, and then on to the same primary school. Our families had holidayed and taken day trips together. Then Kathy and John decided to move to Australia, but even on the half-dozen times we had met up since then, it was like we had never been apart. He knew me as well as my brothers…
“I worshiped the ground Sean walked on, but I still f*cked someone else while we were married.” I pull a bottle of wine from the fridge as I speak and pour myself a glass.
“What… you did what?” I gesture towards the balcony doors; I need wine and cigarettes for this confession. Nobody but my mum, Cam and I know what had happened in Cam’s office the night of my run-in with Whorely, and now I am about to confess all to my favourite cousin. Jackson pulls the bottle of wine back out of the fridge and a glass from the cupboard, joining me out on the balcony. He pours himself a glass and watches me from over the top. I wait for him to repeat his question, but he doesn’t, and it just makes it harder for me to start talking.
“I did something I’m totally ashamed of. I did something that… still to this day, I have no idea why I did it.” I take a big gulp of my wine and light a cigarette, take a puff and begin. I start at the very beginning. I tell him about the very first time I set eyes on Sean and how I have loved him from that moment. I tell him about my sort-of breakdown when we were apart, and I tell him about how Whorely used my mum to conspire in keeping us apart. Then I tell him about Cam, all of it: Cam’s life, what happened to his dad and his wife and suddenly it occurs to me while telling my story to Jackson that Cam has been through something very similar to me. Not once since Sean’s death had I considered that fact. I carry on with my story and explain how Cam fixed me, how he brought me back to life to a certain degree, and that it wasn’t until I was back with Sean and had allowed myself to feel again that I realised just how much I did actually feel for Cam.
“If you hadn’t gotten back with Sean, d’ya think you would’ve stayed with him?”
I don’t hesitate with my answer. “Yes, absolutely. We were good together, but until I was over Sean, he never stood a chance.”
“But you were never going to be over Sean.”
I shrug. “No, I probably wasn’t, but I think I would have gotten better at coping with my feelings. And in time, I think I would have realised that I could still love Cam, while feeling what I did for Sean. It would never be the same, but it still would’ve been love, I think.” He pours us both another drink.
“Would’ve been or was?”
“What?” I understand the question perfectly. I just don’t understand the first answer that’s popped into my head.
“You loved him, Georgia. I think you knew you loved him while you were with him, but you still weren’t prepared to give up on Sean. I think you used Sean and what you felt for him as an excuse not to admit your feelings for Cam.”
I shrug again. “Maybe.” I know full well I did.
I continue on with my story and tell him about the night I f*cked Cam in his office and then about buying the house. I feel sick to my stomach, admitting all of this, but at the same time, I feel so relieved to tell someone. I don’t try and justify my behaviour to Jax; I can’t. There is no justification for what I did. It was wrong, so wrong, but telling the story out loud to someone relatively impartial sort of helps me make peace with myself over my actions.
“You loved him, Georgia, don’t you see? You keep telling me how much you loved Sean, how Sean owned you completely, but he didn’t. Don’t you see that? However small a part it was or is, Cam owned a part of you, too.” I shake my head. “Was there ever anyone else, George? Did you ever come close to touching, kissing, f*cking anyone else while with Sean?”
“No, of course not. I loved my husband; it was a one-off.” What the f*ck sort of wife does he think I was? I’m beginning to wish I hadn’t told him anything now.
“Because Cam is the only other person you have ever loved. There is no way you would risk your marriage, your life with Sean, for someone you didn’t love. I don’t get why you’re trying so hard to deny it.”
“I’m not denying it. I have thought to myself over the years that perhaps I did love him, in a way, but it doesn’t matter now anyway. It also doesn’t change the fact that I f*cked someone other than my husband. It doesn’t make it right.” I can feel anger welling in my chest, at myself and aimed at Jackson for making me think, feel and say all this aloud. I’ve buried it so far down all these years. It’s painful as guilt uses its sharp, pointy nails to drag and claw its way back up into my psyche from wherever I’ve had it so deeply buried. Tears are stinging the backs of my eyes, and I feel a little short of breath.
“I’m not saying it makes it right, George. I’m just trying to help you understand why you did it, and to make you realise Sean never loved anyone else. Like the song and the tattoo and your f*cking ring tone tell you, there’s no one else; there never was. It was only ever you, George, so pack that box up, stop looking for evidence for something that never happened and live happy with the fact that Sean loved and never cheated on you.