Mr. Whitlock

15 - The Argument

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.