Celine (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
elegantdisaster) wrote2019-05-26 09:34 pm
elegantdisaster) wrote2019-05-26 09:34 pm
Entry tags:
(no subject)
The house was always quiet. More quiet than Celine felt like it should be, and she never knew why. She’d never liked the house, but Mark refused to sell it. She thought that was where their problems had started.
She hated this game that her life had become. She hated sneaking around in the open. It wasn’t even a secret anymore. Mark knew what was going on, even if he didn’t yet know with whom. She was going to wait until she served him the papers before she told him that. But the lawyer needed more time. He needed to comb through the pre-nup to make sure they had everything rock steady before they went forward. He’d assured her it was void anyway, but just in case the judge could be bought off, he needed to be ready.
Mark was gone, but she didn’t know for how long. Not that they ever said more than two words to one another. Which was the entire reason she was leaving.
She wasn’t going to leave for a day at a time anymore. She was leaving for good. She’d come back as she needed to, but she no longer lived in that house. First, she changed into something she hadn’t been wearing for two days, and began to throw everything else onto the bed. She wouldn’t take it all - couldn’t; it wouldn’t all fit into her car - but she could pick out the best stuff. Her favourite skirts and dresses, a handful of underwear, the tops that looked the newest. Those, she tossed into a suitcase. She grabbed all of her jewellery, pouring it almost carelessly into the same box, and tossed that in as well. Makeup, she could buy new. She already had some she kept at Wilford’s place anyway. That would get her by until she could find time to go shopping.
Her wedding ring, she took off, and put on the dresser. Mark could do with it as he wished.
It was all easier than she thought. She’d take the case down to the car, and come back to clear out her reading room. After that, she’d be gone for good.
It almost worked. But she wasn’t expecting to open the bedroom door and find Mark standing in the hall, waiting.
“Mark, get out of my way,” she said, trying to push past him.
Mark pushed himself more into her way, trapping her in the bedroom. “That’s it then?” he asked, his voice low and quiet. “You think you can just walk out on me?”
“Mark, get out of my way,” Celine repeated, trying to keep herself calm and level. She could not give him anything he could throw back at her. “This marriage is over, and it has been for a very long time.”
Celine didn’t need to give Mark anything. He was already furious with the entire sorry situation, and she could see it. He grabbed the suitcase from her hand and threw it over the edge and into the foyer below. “What’s he giving you that I’m not?” he demanded, stepping closer into her space and forcing her to step back into the bedroom. He saw the mess she’d left in there, clothes tossed everywhere and the dressers all tossed.
“Mark,” Celine said, focusing more on keeping herself calm than trying to do anything that might convince him to get out of the way.
Mark’s face turned red, his mouth set in a hard frown. Before Celine could react, he pulled his hand back and backhanded her, hard across the face. Celine yelped in shock, and glared at him. She was more angry than she had ever been in her life. She was more than just angry. She hated him. And she couldn’t hold it in any longer. It all came surging out so hard it sent a shockwave through the room, staggering Mark on his feet.
“Get out of my fucking way,” she said darkly.
Mark might have been picking up what she had let out, but his own fear won out. He quickly stepped out of the way, letting Celine pass. She stormed down the stairs and to the foyer, picking up her suitcase as she went. She left it by her car and headed back inside to clear out what she needed from her reading room. Her spirit board, her favourite tarot deck, various stones and crystals. She grabbed every book from her shelf, and decided she could come back for the rest, or buy new later. She upended a basket that held various table runners and reading cloths, and put everything she intended to take with her in it. It was a tight fit, and the basket wound up too heavy for her to lift. She thought about just leaving it, but she walked out of the room and across the house instead. Chef turned around sharply when she entered the kitchen, lowering his stance when he saw who it was.
“Uh. Miss Celine,” he said, giving her what he probably thought was a sweet smile. “Do you need something?”
“Chef, there is a basket on the table in my reading room. Could you please go put it in the front seat of my car?” she asked.
She didn’t like the way Chef looked at her, silent for too long of a moment before he nodded. “Of course.”
Chef was the only thing about that entire house she’d miss. She stepped aside to let him pass and picked up the empty serving tray he had on the counter. Her reflection was distorted, but not so badly that she couldn’t see the redness rising on the left side of her face. She touched her face, just under her eye on an especially red patch, and found that Mark’s ring had left a small cut. Celine dropped the tray down onto the counter angrily and started to walk out to her car, meeting Chef along the way.
“I’ll probably be back in a few weeks for the rest of my stuff,” she said, opening the passenger door for him.
“This new guy,” Chef said as he put the basket on the floor. “Is he decent?”
Celine picked up her suitcase and handed it to Chef. “You didn’t seem to think so,” she said.
Chef gave her a concerned look, but said no more as he settled her suitcase into the front seat.
“Thank you,” Celine said, walking around the car.
“I’ll see you later, I guess,” Chef said. He closed the passenger door and stepped away, giving her room to back out.
It was a long drive back from the Canyon to Wilford’s house in the Hills. She had not actually planned on trying to move in with him so soon, and the timing was less than ideal for it. It was probably a good idea to open up a few options for herself. She raised the car’s roof and told her Bluetooth to call her brother.
“Celine,” Damien said, sounding oddly surprised. “Is everything all right? Mark called me, looking for you this morning.”
Celine sighed. “I’ve left him. I tried not to do it this way, but he didn’t give me a choice.”
“He kicked you out?” Damien asked.
She wanted to say yes, that’s exactly what happened. He kicked her out and she had nowhere else to go.
“I promised myself I would never stay with another man who hit me,” she said instead.
Damien stammered on the other end. “I don’t blame you,” he said finally. “Where are you going?”
That’s what Celine didn’t know how to answer. “I’ve been seeing someone else for a couple of months. If I can’t stay there for whatever reason, I’ll go to your place.”
“Why wouldn’t you be able to stay there?” Damien asked slowly.
They shouldn’t have been having this conversation over the phone. “I’m sorry, Damien. I didn’t want to end it this way. I tried so hard to avoid this scandal.”
Damien took a moment to respond. “Who are you seeing?” he asked.
It was Celine’s turn to hesitate. “Will,” she said.
“Will, from Mark’s parties, Will? The one with the two year old?” Damien asked. She could hear him pull the phone away from his face to say something. “Well, I guess it’s not as bad as it could be. Wait, you’re not pregnant, are you?”
“No, Damien,” Celine said. “The election’s more than a year away. People will have probably forgotten about this by then anyway.”
“It depends on if you’re still dating him next November,” Damien said. “It’s gonna look shady as hell if my twin sister is dating someone with that much pull at network.”
“He has one weekly show. That’s hardly pull, darling brother,” she said. He was right though. She hadn’t even thought about that aspect. She was more concerned with his image hurting from his cheating sister. Everyone would have forgotten about that by the time the ink was dry on the divorce papers.
“Just do me a favour and try not to cheat on him with someone who owns a newspaper.”
Celine felt like she’d been slapped all over again. “Thank you, Damien. I love you too.” She hung up, more angry than she felt like she had the right to be. But he had called her out so plainly, over a situation he didn’t even understand. She couldn’t tell if he was being a dickhead, or clueless.
The dogs watched her from behind the gate that led to the back yard, both of them with their snouts poking through the bars. Celine parked in the driveway and looked up at the house. She couldn’t see any lights on inside, but that didn’t mean much. She walked up the stairs, getting the key he’d given her ready, but the door opened before she got there. Wilford started to wave her in, but stopped. He was exhausted, but through all that she could see him connecting dots. Finally, he stepped aside, letting her in and quietly closing the door behind them.
“He hit you,” he said quietly.
Michael was asleep on the couch, so Celine only nodded. She walked back to the bedroom, knowing Wilford would follow her. He did, and closed the door behind them.
“Has he done this before?” he asked.
Celine shook her head. “No. And it’s the last time he will.”
“You need to take pictures,” Wilford said. “And probably call the cops.”
“No, I don’t think that’s worth it,” Celine said. She didn’t want to get the police involved. Not after the conversation she’d had with her brother.
“It’ll be your word against his,” Wilford said.
Celine sighed and stepped into the bathroom. She turned on the lights, and pulled her phone from her purse. “No it won’t. Chef was there, and he hates Mark almost as much as I do.” Still, she took the picture, hoping it meant they could move on. “He’ll take my side.”
Wilford nodded. He was trying so hard to look angry, but he just looked unbelievably tired. Celine walked around him and opened the door, and then tried to back Wilford toward the bed. “You should get some sleep,” she said.
For a moment, she thought he was going to argue. Instead he nodded and rubbed his face. “Yeah,” he agreed. He pulled her toward the bed with him, slowly letting himself fall back onto it. She hadn’t expected it, but she was tired enough that she didn’t feel like arguing either.
She hated this game that her life had become. She hated sneaking around in the open. It wasn’t even a secret anymore. Mark knew what was going on, even if he didn’t yet know with whom. She was going to wait until she served him the papers before she told him that. But the lawyer needed more time. He needed to comb through the pre-nup to make sure they had everything rock steady before they went forward. He’d assured her it was void anyway, but just in case the judge could be bought off, he needed to be ready.
Mark was gone, but she didn’t know for how long. Not that they ever said more than two words to one another. Which was the entire reason she was leaving.
She wasn’t going to leave for a day at a time anymore. She was leaving for good. She’d come back as she needed to, but she no longer lived in that house. First, she changed into something she hadn’t been wearing for two days, and began to throw everything else onto the bed. She wouldn’t take it all - couldn’t; it wouldn’t all fit into her car - but she could pick out the best stuff. Her favourite skirts and dresses, a handful of underwear, the tops that looked the newest. Those, she tossed into a suitcase. She grabbed all of her jewellery, pouring it almost carelessly into the same box, and tossed that in as well. Makeup, she could buy new. She already had some she kept at Wilford’s place anyway. That would get her by until she could find time to go shopping.
Her wedding ring, she took off, and put on the dresser. Mark could do with it as he wished.
It was all easier than she thought. She’d take the case down to the car, and come back to clear out her reading room. After that, she’d be gone for good.
It almost worked. But she wasn’t expecting to open the bedroom door and find Mark standing in the hall, waiting.
“Mark, get out of my way,” she said, trying to push past him.
Mark pushed himself more into her way, trapping her in the bedroom. “That’s it then?” he asked, his voice low and quiet. “You think you can just walk out on me?”
“Mark, get out of my way,” Celine repeated, trying to keep herself calm and level. She could not give him anything he could throw back at her. “This marriage is over, and it has been for a very long time.”
Celine didn’t need to give Mark anything. He was already furious with the entire sorry situation, and she could see it. He grabbed the suitcase from her hand and threw it over the edge and into the foyer below. “What’s he giving you that I’m not?” he demanded, stepping closer into her space and forcing her to step back into the bedroom. He saw the mess she’d left in there, clothes tossed everywhere and the dressers all tossed.
“Mark,” Celine said, focusing more on keeping herself calm than trying to do anything that might convince him to get out of the way.
Mark’s face turned red, his mouth set in a hard frown. Before Celine could react, he pulled his hand back and backhanded her, hard across the face. Celine yelped in shock, and glared at him. She was more angry than she had ever been in her life. She was more than just angry. She hated him. And she couldn’t hold it in any longer. It all came surging out so hard it sent a shockwave through the room, staggering Mark on his feet.
“Get out of my fucking way,” she said darkly.
Mark might have been picking up what she had let out, but his own fear won out. He quickly stepped out of the way, letting Celine pass. She stormed down the stairs and to the foyer, picking up her suitcase as she went. She left it by her car and headed back inside to clear out what she needed from her reading room. Her spirit board, her favourite tarot deck, various stones and crystals. She grabbed every book from her shelf, and decided she could come back for the rest, or buy new later. She upended a basket that held various table runners and reading cloths, and put everything she intended to take with her in it. It was a tight fit, and the basket wound up too heavy for her to lift. She thought about just leaving it, but she walked out of the room and across the house instead. Chef turned around sharply when she entered the kitchen, lowering his stance when he saw who it was.
“Uh. Miss Celine,” he said, giving her what he probably thought was a sweet smile. “Do you need something?”
“Chef, there is a basket on the table in my reading room. Could you please go put it in the front seat of my car?” she asked.
She didn’t like the way Chef looked at her, silent for too long of a moment before he nodded. “Of course.”
Chef was the only thing about that entire house she’d miss. She stepped aside to let him pass and picked up the empty serving tray he had on the counter. Her reflection was distorted, but not so badly that she couldn’t see the redness rising on the left side of her face. She touched her face, just under her eye on an especially red patch, and found that Mark’s ring had left a small cut. Celine dropped the tray down onto the counter angrily and started to walk out to her car, meeting Chef along the way.
“I’ll probably be back in a few weeks for the rest of my stuff,” she said, opening the passenger door for him.
“This new guy,” Chef said as he put the basket on the floor. “Is he decent?”
Celine picked up her suitcase and handed it to Chef. “You didn’t seem to think so,” she said.
Chef gave her a concerned look, but said no more as he settled her suitcase into the front seat.
“Thank you,” Celine said, walking around the car.
“I’ll see you later, I guess,” Chef said. He closed the passenger door and stepped away, giving her room to back out.
It was a long drive back from the Canyon to Wilford’s house in the Hills. She had not actually planned on trying to move in with him so soon, and the timing was less than ideal for it. It was probably a good idea to open up a few options for herself. She raised the car’s roof and told her Bluetooth to call her brother.
“Celine,” Damien said, sounding oddly surprised. “Is everything all right? Mark called me, looking for you this morning.”
Celine sighed. “I’ve left him. I tried not to do it this way, but he didn’t give me a choice.”
“He kicked you out?” Damien asked.
She wanted to say yes, that’s exactly what happened. He kicked her out and she had nowhere else to go.
“I promised myself I would never stay with another man who hit me,” she said instead.
Damien stammered on the other end. “I don’t blame you,” he said finally. “Where are you going?”
That’s what Celine didn’t know how to answer. “I’ve been seeing someone else for a couple of months. If I can’t stay there for whatever reason, I’ll go to your place.”
“Why wouldn’t you be able to stay there?” Damien asked slowly.
They shouldn’t have been having this conversation over the phone. “I’m sorry, Damien. I didn’t want to end it this way. I tried so hard to avoid this scandal.”
Damien took a moment to respond. “Who are you seeing?” he asked.
It was Celine’s turn to hesitate. “Will,” she said.
“Will, from Mark’s parties, Will? The one with the two year old?” Damien asked. She could hear him pull the phone away from his face to say something. “Well, I guess it’s not as bad as it could be. Wait, you’re not pregnant, are you?”
“No, Damien,” Celine said. “The election’s more than a year away. People will have probably forgotten about this by then anyway.”
“It depends on if you’re still dating him next November,” Damien said. “It’s gonna look shady as hell if my twin sister is dating someone with that much pull at network.”
“He has one weekly show. That’s hardly pull, darling brother,” she said. He was right though. She hadn’t even thought about that aspect. She was more concerned with his image hurting from his cheating sister. Everyone would have forgotten about that by the time the ink was dry on the divorce papers.
“Just do me a favour and try not to cheat on him with someone who owns a newspaper.”
Celine felt like she’d been slapped all over again. “Thank you, Damien. I love you too.” She hung up, more angry than she felt like she had the right to be. But he had called her out so plainly, over a situation he didn’t even understand. She couldn’t tell if he was being a dickhead, or clueless.
The dogs watched her from behind the gate that led to the back yard, both of them with their snouts poking through the bars. Celine parked in the driveway and looked up at the house. She couldn’t see any lights on inside, but that didn’t mean much. She walked up the stairs, getting the key he’d given her ready, but the door opened before she got there. Wilford started to wave her in, but stopped. He was exhausted, but through all that she could see him connecting dots. Finally, he stepped aside, letting her in and quietly closing the door behind them.
“He hit you,” he said quietly.
Michael was asleep on the couch, so Celine only nodded. She walked back to the bedroom, knowing Wilford would follow her. He did, and closed the door behind them.
“Has he done this before?” he asked.
Celine shook her head. “No. And it’s the last time he will.”
“You need to take pictures,” Wilford said. “And probably call the cops.”
“No, I don’t think that’s worth it,” Celine said. She didn’t want to get the police involved. Not after the conversation she’d had with her brother.
“It’ll be your word against his,” Wilford said.
Celine sighed and stepped into the bathroom. She turned on the lights, and pulled her phone from her purse. “No it won’t. Chef was there, and he hates Mark almost as much as I do.” Still, she took the picture, hoping it meant they could move on. “He’ll take my side.”
Wilford nodded. He was trying so hard to look angry, but he just looked unbelievably tired. Celine walked around him and opened the door, and then tried to back Wilford toward the bed. “You should get some sleep,” she said.
For a moment, she thought he was going to argue. Instead he nodded and rubbed his face. “Yeah,” he agreed. He pulled her toward the bed with him, slowly letting himself fall back onto it. She hadn’t expected it, but she was tired enough that she didn’t feel like arguing either.