exile

It wasn’t wallowing. Honestly, it was nobody’s business that she hadn’t been out of the place for three days. Or that her laptop had been sitting open on the coffee table for hours while she zonked out to Chopped. Maybe if she felt like doing something other than calling for delivery later she could turn the leftover chow mein, marshmallow fluff, the dubious eggs that were probably heading towards hatching a new lifeform in the fridge and the remnants of the six pack Mitch had dropped off the other night into some gourmet shit. It’d be the most action her kitchen had seen in a while – the most action her life’d had. Ugh.

Sadie shoved at the quilt, rolling onto her side to eye the laptop. Editing had always been the easy part. Sure, it was your baby and who wanted to go chopping off digits or even whole limbs from their baby, but when you flew through your first draft without a freaking clue of where you were ever going it was necessary. Her agent was an absolute master that way, suggesting lopping off just the end of a finger here or trimming a millimetre of fingernail from the intro. She wasn’t shy on piling the compliments either, demanding extra fat to a scene so it ended up plump, ripe for the smacking lips of enchanted readers who just wanted to eat it up. Her own gluttony for it all usually cut it in the moment the email popped up in her inbox, this time though, it hadn’t been a starving woman falling on her feast, it had been appetiteless apathy.

Screw it. It was time to start eating again, something better than noodles with a marshmallow-beer foam too. Gluttony boosted by the suggestion bubbles filled with green text in her file instead of a scrawny asshole parked on the other end of the couch, offering up anecdotes and his own corrections on dialogue as she’d typed away. Maybe there wouldn’t be a spin-off like she’d planned, but you know what, she didn’t need it. There were a million worlds out there she hadn’t explored, ones she’d ignored in those weeks she’d struggled to finish up that first draft. She’d wrap the edits now and then throw herself into one. Maybe if he didn’t blow her off again she’d drag Mitch out for a sunrise meeting of their little breakfast club tomorrow. Chocolate chip pancakes and a fuck you very much fuelling her through some sort of vague outline.

A dessert containing grape leaves, sesame seeds, honeydew melon and pickled ginger. What? An hour after she’d tugged the laptop onto her mountain of quilts and started to pick her way through the suggested changes there was liquid ice cream pouring out of the machine, a chef being patched up by a paramedic with a band aid that looked big enough to cover an actual missing finger. Frowning at the screen over the top of her screen, she reached slowly for the remote. Music, music had to be better than missing that initial oh shit when the baskets were opened.

Jesus fucking Christ.

Clutching her chest, Sadie cursed as the remote clattered down on her laptop keyboard. The door was swinging in, the rap of knuckles on it coming a little too late to stop her heart throwing itself against her ribs like it could rip its way clear. It had been months since she’d given him free reign at her place, and even when the invitation had been open he’d been a little slower about it. Everything back then more sedate, politer, good between them. When it hadn’t been anymore she hadn’t gone back to flipping the locks when she was in the apartment, although obviously it would’ve been freaking wiser to if she hadn’t wanted to shave those five years off of her life.

Her hands fell to the laptop, smoothing over the keyboard in search of damage. She was not ready to be replacing her trusty Mac. Not like she was other things. Staring at him over the top of her laptop she tried to summon up some sort of excitement in return, but the joy she’d felt at Mandy’s return home had done its thing when she’d seen the girl entering the store with her brothers, not all this time later. ”I know,” Sadie said flatly. ”Congratulations, I’m glad she’s safe.” And honestly she was, but God.

It was like a switch had been flipped, the exhausted, strained Darcey who she’d worried was going to fade away entirely before his sister was found replaced by this bounding, excited, bragging asshole. The sting she swore she wasn’t gonna feel for a guy who’d made his point majorly fucking clear picked up again, like the tip of one of those razor sharp kitchen knives had dug deep. Sadie swallowed against it, tried to find some joy for the villain getting locked up here. Whoever had taken Mandy and this other woman deserved a lifetime behind bars and Darcey, well...

Would the Virgin Mary pick chunks of glass out of his face like the whore of Babylon had? Kissing it all better, smoothing away hurts she hadn’t even known had existed until he’d uncovered them right before he slapped her hands away. Maybe. She definitely wasn’t doing it again, especially since it would be her stellar aim letting her throw the glass in his face this time. Probably. Maeve likely had a saintly disposition to go with a bloody gorgeous face.

Sadie huffed out a laugh, her brows rising as she crossed her arms over her chest. He had to be fucking kidding. Alright, so maybe she’d friend zoned herself the second she’d seen the ring on his finger and out of respect of his obvious grief and all that had happened with Mandy, had kept herself there. It was obvious from the snapped comments at the Diner that he hadn’t been over Lorna, maybe like her mom he’d have been permanently grieving, never moving on. More than his temperament had changed while he’d been gone though. ”You’re not worried about bringing a home wrecker around her? People might think you’re stepping out on your new girlfriend. I’m glad whoever had them’s behind bars, but you know what, screw you, Darcey. You don’t get to tell me I’ve done enough and then come back here telling me I’ve got to meet some new woman who’s got you all … ugh.” Picking up the remote control instead of the glass – she wasn’t washing the blood out of her rug – she lobbed it at him.

Tagged: DARCEY REID * Word Count: 1104

Numb hadn’t been the word she would’ve used for him before. She’d thought maybe he was, too little sleep dulling everything but that hole cut through him by his sister’s absence. Pancakes wouldn’t really have made a difference to it, no amount of chocolate chips filled that sort of wound, but maybe they’d have kept Darcey physically fuelled long enough for something else to cut in. At the least it might’ve satiated him enough that a pancake coma would finally let him get some sleep. The numb extending far enough to seal off that ache for a while. She hadn’t laid money on Darcey tearing it off as he’d shoved her hand aside. Gawping at him as he’d pushed up from the table, Sadie had realised that nothing had started to scab over, every nerve was raw, burning, emotions spilling up out of that void that probably had nothing to do with her and everything to do with the losses he’d suffered.

Fuck. Some tiny part of her knew that blaming him now was shitty, it just made both of them of them assholes. Darcey’s sister had been gone for weeks, he had a right to be angry over stuff that had nothing to do with it on the surface, he had a right to grieve his dead wife. He didn’t have the right to brush all that shit aside and act like someone had hit the reset button on their friendship. Darcey didn’t have the right to look at her like that – like she’d developed a second head before she’d sucker punched him.

His face started to fall, his voice softening on her name. Sadie. Like she’d melt at that the way she might’ve done if he’d turned up that night or any day since. The time for easy forgiveness had vanished when the one thing that had brought him back was the announcement that he’d met some incredible woman – one with a story that’d probably end up on every bestseller list in the country. ’Woman freed from captivity – my months with the beast’.

She tried telling herself it wasn’t the woman’s fault anymore than Darcey’s, but the remote was already out of her hand, flying at his head with enough accuracy for her to feel that momentary satisfaction. ”Don’t you Sadie me,” she warned, her finger rising in warning. He could oi and Jesus all he wanted, but he’d lost his sweet talking privileges.

Touched? Eyes wide, mouth hanging open, she stared at him instead of checking where she’d have to pick the damn remote from later. If it was broken she’d scream. Sadie closed her mouth, opened it, closed it a second time before she shot him a sharp, sneering smile. ”Moved passed this kinda implies we spoke about it and you apologised for accusing me of spreading it around town that I was sleeping with a married man. But, you know, I would’ve had to see you for that to happen.” Instead she’d been moping around, hoping that something was working out for him, while he’d been ….

Nope, nope, nope. She wasn’t even going to start picturing that. Didn’t need a mental image in her head of Maeve’s hands trailed over that scatter of cinnamon, soothing his grief like Mother Theresa. Sadie’s teeth sank into her lower lip, her gaze skittering over her coffee table, looking for ammunition. Not the laptop, that was her … everything … the fruit bowl that held a scatter of junk and not a solitary damn grape … too big. The candle Aud had bought her for her last birthday – ‘it’s violet and chamomile, it’ll be great for when you want to chill out’ – maybe it would ease her irritation. By beaning him in the head.

Sadie leaned forward, not bothering to explain why she was still angry, closing her fingers around it before she stopped. Blue eyes narrowed to electric slits, bordered by the smoky shadows she hadn’t even put there with a clumsy hand and the make-up that was probably three years out of date at this point. He was actually fucking smiling. Oh yeah, the fruit bowl was next.

She straightened up, bouncing the candle – something the size of a jar of instant coffee had looked like it would burn for days at the time, now it was probably enough to plant him on his ass – staring at him like she was calculating distance. Jealous? Sadie stopped like she been the one pegged between the eyes with it. Was she jealous? No. Maybe, alright, yes, but that wasn’t the point and he should’ve been able to get that much through his thick skull. Darcey might’ve seen himself as a brawler, not as smart as his little brother, but there was a sharp enough brain in there somewhere that he should’ve realised that nothing had been settled. There hadn’t been a single sorry out of his mouth, like he hadn’t given a shit that he’d practically called her a whore, had acted like she was forcing herself on him when she’d been trying to take care of him at a time when he needed it.

There was no more warning about it this time. With a growl, she threw the candle in his direction too, aiming for that smug smile. ”Get out,” she told him. ”I’m not an idiot. I didn’t think that there was some weird old English tradition where guys proposed with a Yorkie. I was being a friend and you threw it in my face. Then you walk back in here all ‘my broken heart’s all fixed, yay!’. Good for you Freckles, if she makes your heart and your balls sing, then great. Just don’t bother thinking you were actually right and I thought we were playing house.” Her throat was thick though, her pride stinging in a way her fingers did as she grabbed for the fruit bowl, the design cut into the crystal on the outside jabbing into her palm as she dragged its considerable weight towards her.

Tagged: DARCEY REID * Word Count: 1005

Dark brows rose as the scoff rolled out of him. So now she wasn’t only a homewrecker, but either delusional or a liar too. Great. Every word he’d said had cut itself deep into her flesh, echoing around in her head any time she’d thought about texting to see how he was doing, how the search was going. Death by a dozen little cuts, the salt rubbed into them for that last little sting now. ”Just to the waitress right? So she could tell my mom and everybody else in town.” The situation hadn’t been an easy one, but it hadn’t warranted the way he’d shoved her away afterwards like suddenly he was disgusted with her. Sadie swallowed back the bitterness that tried to crawl up her throat. ”She made a mistake and somehow it was the worst thing on earth. Sure, that was uncomfortable.” For both of them in the end.

Her mom had called her later that afternoon, asking what had happened. It had been enough to tell her that he hadn’t been feeling up to being out, but the waitress had probably told her what had happened. She’d shot her an apologetic look the next time she’d been in. What she have done if Darcey had gone in though? How did you say ‘I’m sorry, I thought you were having an affair’ without making it another kick in the teeth? You didn’t. You just swept it under the rug and kept your mouth shut the next time.

If he’d turned up days later she’d have done it too. Just took whatever she’d been given with a dose of forgiveness that was now too slippery to hold onto. Sadie nodded at his puffed excuse, her conscience twisting – well, that was working a little at least. ”With falling in love with the princess you saved, right.” She couldn’t bite back the bitterness or sarcasm from the words and ugh, maybe she should’ve been smacking herself with the remote instead. All of this could’ve been over already if she’d just congratulated him on getting his sister back and nudged him back out the door. It could all sting in private then and eventually she would get over it, get used to the change in the status quo that had been there between them for five minutes.

Be the bigger person, Sade, you’ll feel better for it. Maybe, but not right now, when he was grinning at her like he’d suddenly been struck between the eyes by something far more amusing than the remote that hadn’t come close to cracking him in the mouth.

She stared at him, just breathing, trying to work around how she’d actually felt in her head, hating it all the more for the amount of amusement he was getting out of it now. There was nothing to worry about when it came to his sister, so suddenly someone other than his wife being interested in him that way could be funny. Hopefully he could still smirk over it when he was getting his teeth reimplanted at the dentist.

Grraaah! Her fucking aim was off again. Third time lucky. As Darcey stumbled back, looking at her incredulously like he hadn’t thought she’d actually have the balls to do it again – oh yeah, buddy, she had the balls and there was enough ammunition in the apartment for her to work out every ounce of embarrassment and anger – she was already seeking out the fruit bowl. This would mean she’d need to pick another up, because this was gonna shatter, unlike the remote or the candle. That meant clean up afterwards, but oh yeah, it’d be worth it.

Sadie shook her head at him, warning in her eyes. She’d already told him what he was meant to be doing, laying her hurt out on the line and he was still standing there like she wouldn’t follow through. ”Stop being what?” Sadie bit out. If his ears actually freaking worked instead of just plucking what he wanted to hear out of the air then he’d know better than to stick his foot in it again. ”Consider it trying to rattle sense into your empty head.” The bowl was more difficult to manoeuvre, the weight wasn’t as well balanced, the chance of it actually getting from the couch to the door slim, but God, if he didn’t shut up she’d do it.

The laugh slipped out, the burn in the back of her eyes not what she needed right now. Sadie scrambled up onto her knees, readjusting, eyeing the distance between the couch and her apartment door – short enough that maybe she could do it, who knew she’d be so glad for it being a poky little apartment instead of some grand palatial mansion. ”Let’s try this,” she said sweetly. He had the brains to get behind the shield of her apartment door at least, less chance of his skull cracking, more that the bowl would shatter all over the floor and she’d spend the next week cursing and picking missed bits of crystal out of her feet.

Hefting the bowl in her hands again, she stared at him. ”Repeat after me – Hey Sadie. I’m sorry. There were extenuating circumstances, and I know you understand that, but honestly it wasn’t your fault that some woman who didn’t know better thought we were married when all your were doing was trying to watch out for me. I hope you know I didn’t mean to suggest you’d actually sleep with a married man - you're not a whore. And hey, you know, it’s actually pretty freaking complimentary to think that someone as incredible as you would even want to sleep with me.” Was it that hard to remember that apologies existed? For normal people maybe, but when you’d suddenly found love and wanted to scream it from the rooftops, who knew. It wasn’t like she’d ever actually been in that position because every guy she’d ever had an ounce of attraction to was an apparently an asshole. It was her curse.

Tagged: DARCEY REID * Word Count: 997