Convenience

Part 86

He sounded pensive. "We didn't give us a chance. For anything!" He said gently.

She calmed down sufficiently. She wiped her cheek, brushing off signs of tears. She told him vehemently. "You had a chance." She sniffed. "You had a chance." She told him again, without any inflection in her tone. Her tears vanished. But he could sense the exasperation in her voice. She demanded quietly, "Take a chance with you?" The tears returned to her eyes. "I can't." She reminded him, "You went out with other people."

 David watched her eyes: Wary and afraid, he thought. He said quietly, but with sincerity in his voice, "I accept I shouldn't have gone on dates."  David noticed the way her head had whipped back as if he had struck her physically. He could see the pain in her eyes. He whispered gently. "I never thought of myself as a husband. I had the paper, but it didn't mean anything apart from a contract, not anything about feelings, or emotions, or ..." He tipped his head, and looked up at the sky. Then he returned his gaze to her. "I was a bastard." He rushed on to prevent any further hurt. "I know, I know that sounds wrong, and stupid, and caused pain. " 

She tried to gauge whether he was telling her the truth. "Yes, you were a bastard." She agreed.

The pain he saw in her eyes became a tangible thing. "I thought, at that time, you opted out of our relationship." He barely whispered. "That you knew this wasn't a real marriage. You could just walk away, because it didn't mean anything to you." He whispered raw with emotion. "You opted out."

"Real marriage." She mumbled. She looked straight into his eyes. "Opted out."

"You didn't take a chance! You didn't know me! Didn't stay around to learn about us." They studied each other. For a few seconds they said nothing.

His words were a faint whisper "I have imperfections. A normal man! Like normal people, I made mistakes. Lots." The words were softly spoken. "My worst mistake was to let you leave." Beatrice chewed her lips. He sounded sincere. David told her quietly and seriously, "And at the first chance you left."

That had her head snapped back to look at him. She raised two eyebrows at that statement. First chance? What was he talked about? He left her, nearly straight after their wedding! She thought, at least, I gave him months! First chance? Bastard.

Concern etched itself in the depths of his eyes. 

 "Really?" She huffed. Her fists clenched as she held onto her composure. "Me? Left you? Really?

"We got back from our honeymoon and you moved to your grandfather's home!"

They both knew they done everything out of order! Everything. David put his struggling business ahead of building his relationship with Beatrice. Beatrice put her fledging business ahead of saving her relationship with David. They have done everything out of order. Married, without love, and hoped that later they would discover love. He got married and took five years to realise he discovered the concept of love. She got married and took five years to forget that her husband didn't love her.

"Don't put that on me! She looked straight at him, and started to list her issues with him, "This was a marriage of financial convenience. A name on a bit of paper." She squared her shoulders. She took a few seconds to gather her wits. "You were saddled with a wife who did not appeal to you on any level! On any level!" David watched as her eyes flashed with emotion before she closed the shutter to her feelings.

"How would you know?" David interrupted. That is when her eyes flashed again.

"I was nothing more than a credit slip." Beatrice glared, "Anyone can say they care." She took a second before she said softly. "It is actions, not just words, that matter." She took a breath. "I kept kidding myself into believing we might learn to compromise. That we could give our marriage a chance." Beatrice told him. He shoved his hands into his pockets. "I thought, at that time, this arrangement might just work. We just needed time to get to know each other."

He nodded. "True, ..."

Beatrice interrupted. "I followed your progress in business. You were scrupulously fair and acted with integrity. That gave me hope. The same amount of fairness could be applied to our marriage."

Well, that was good. He thought.

She shook her head. "But that was before my birthday." She was having trouble speaking. The words wouldn't form. It hurt. She dropped eye contact. "I would expect a husband to remember his wife's birthday." A simple thing." She wailed softly in frustration. "No message from you." She turned her head to look straight at him.

His cheeks flushed with colour. Red. Guilt.