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CHAPTER TWELVE: HOLLOW HOUSE
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HELEN WAS ONE OF the first to leave the church. As soon as Jeramiah Jesus declared Tommy and Grace to be husband and wife, their union sealed with one damning kiss, Helen had bundled James into her arms and rushed for the doors. She heard Patrick sigh her name, indignant despite his wife's simmering anger, but the sound was lost in the excited chatter erupting from the Shelby side of the room. They swarmed Tommy and Grace the second the couple parted, smothering them in congratulations that made Helen feel sick. So she clung to James like a buoy in the ocean. Chin barely skimming the surface, she could feel the water consuming her. It clogged her lungs like a wet sponge, weighed down by misery and that ever-persisting sting of fury. It lingered even then, lying in wait for when Patrick inevitably tried to beseech her.
For now, she would play her part. Helen Godfrey was a woman first and foremost. She had suffered through pain much worse than this. She had seen the world at its darkest. She would not be knocked down by Tommy and Grace like everything else meant nothing.
Or so she hoped.
But hoping and believing were two very different things.
"Helen, please."
It was hard to pretend when Patrick couldn't take a bloody hint. He sought her out as the Shelbys gathered on the church steps for their photo to be taken by the official photographer. Grace was a vision of beauty in her lavender dress, glowing as she hung on Tommy's arm like a freshly picked rose. Helen tried not to look at her and unfortunately succeeded when Patrick stubbornly blocked her view.
"Nel," he spoke through gritted teeth, pausing to grin at the members of the Burgess family he recognised like nothing was the matter. He shook hands and kissed the knuckles of finely dressed women without a care in the world. His expression was quick to drop, however, when his hand grazed hers and she lurched back as if fire licked at her heels. Patrick's eyes narrowed. He hissed under his breath, "You can't ignore me, Helen."
"Watch me," she scoffed, holding her head high despite the tremble of her lower lip.
Patrick took another step forward and, once again, Helen evaded him. "Would you just hear me out?"
"Not here," she snapped back, lowering James so he was standing in front of her legs like a shield. He seemed eager to play, eyeing Johnny Dog's boisterous brood with childish curiosity, but Helen wasn't quite ready to release him yet. Who could she deflect to then but Patrick? He'd have her cornered and her anger would deflate like a popped balloon. "I won't argue with you in front of our son."
