X-Scaping you (COMPLETED)

Chapter 12

***JULES POINT OF VIEW**

***February 14, 2019 Valentine's Day***

Four days since Ethan died. Will got rid of the body two days ago. I guess he thought it'd torture me more seeing my dead fiancé laying in a pool of his own blood. Well he wasn't wrong about that. I haven't slept for seventy-two consecutive hours. He's in my head. I see his dead body everytime I close my eyes and he's just there. Before Will desposed of the body. I know it's just my brain messing with me, but still, that shit hurts. And to make matters worse, Will decided to explain his actions.
***
10:45 pm

Will came creeping down the steps, his face solemn. I was of course sitting there, chained up, my arms killing me, crying out in agony. However, when I looked at it from a higher point of view, evaluating all of my problems, the crippling sensation in my arms merely felt like a mere prickle as if I was recieving a simple flu shot.

Will walked up to me. He bent down and lifted up my chin so that I was facing him. He sighed, clearly a little disturbed.

"Listen," he said.

"I know I was a little harsh killing Ethan-"

I tensed at his name. All my emotions flooding back in rush. Anger leading the way. I fought back the urge to spit in his face.

"'A little Harsh' Are you fucking serious-"

I could feel myself, getting ready to go on a tangent, my anger taking over me, by the second. But I caught myself. Ranting to him won't bring Ethan back.

Let him talk Jules.

I took a deep breath.

"Actions speak louder than words." I said, failing to keep the hatred of my voice.

He sighed. " I know, I know. But maybe if I explain-"

"Explain what Will? Because right now I don't want to hear your sick little excuses as to why you thought it was okay to kill my fiancé!"

"I understand. It was impulsive and idiotic and-I hurt you."

No shit.

I showed no emotion. If I show the slightest sign of emotion, he'll think I care enough to react. This douche bag doesn't deserve to see any emotions.

I sat there. Just staring. I didn't want to hear his excuses, his explanations, none of it. But...then he started speaking. He was talking about the night I left. And despite my protests...I couldn't help but listen.

The anguish in his voice captivated me. And so I sat there. Listening to him talk, him run down memory lane despite the slight quiver in his voice.

"-After you left, I went into shock. And then depression. I blamed myself for everything. And it was. If I didn't overreact and yell at you, you'd've never lost thy baby and we'd still be married and with a kid."

He paused shaking his head. I thought about it too. What would have been. What would've been my perfect happily every after. I'd have my kid. A husband, life I always wanted...

Will brought me back to reality when he spoke again.

"I fell into depression. And then eventually developed a alcohol problem. I thought it would numb the pain. But to be honest it made it worse. I kept thinking about what you would say if you saw me like that. And that made things alot worse."

I remained quiet.

"It just continued. This overwhelming cycle of coming home, getting a beer and thinking about you."

He chuckled painfully. As if he had tears in his eyes.

"And then one day, the ancient computer lit up. Me being drunk and nosey, went to check it out and saw the facebook icon pop up. Of course this computer is old as day and was probable broken. But, I logged in and saw that you had made a new facebook account. For you and...him."

He neglected to say his name. And I honestly didn't know how to feel about that.

"I saw your first couple of post and I had gotten attacted."

No shit.

"Then I had gotten obsessed and it lead us here. Both unhappy and alone. I'm sorry Jules. I just wanted you here. With me. And to be happy. But I took it all away from you. I'm so sorry. Will you ever forgive me?"

I thought about this. Like deeply thought about this. He honestly seemed intensly insecure about all of this. Should I forgive him?

I mean, here he is, all vulneerable and weak, and scared. Begging me to forgive him. But then he's also here, talking to me, trying to cover up his tracks for killing my fiancee. What do I do?

I responded, finally. "I'll have to think about it. I hope you can understand."

He nodded solmely. The hint of anguish there moments before grew and expaned into both of his eyes. He sighed once more and stood.

"Ye-yeah I understand. Um, I'll se you later, I guess."

He turned and began walking up the stairs. And disappeared five seconds later.

I sat there in silence. Mulling everything over and weighing the good and bad. And then I came to my decision.

I can't forgive him. I can't. He's gone too far this time. You can't revive the dead and you damn sure can't fix the past.