Distinction: The Distraction Trilogy #3 (3 page)

There’s a light tapping at the door as I’m scrambling eggs in a pan on the stove. I switch off the hob and wipe my hands on a tea towel before heading to the door.

I wish I’d checked the peep hole because nothing could have prepared me for this shock. My heart stops and my hand on the door handle grips the metal curve so tightly pain radiates through my entire arm.

“Elle,” I say, my voice sounding a lot stronger than I feel.

She slides her sunglasses on top of her head, revealing those gorgeous green eyes I once loved so much. They’re as stunning, if not more so, than I remember. They used to see straight through to my soul with so much love and admiration. Now they simply show nothing but dispassion.

“I would have called ahead but I didn’t want to give you the chance to cancel,” she states and moistens her lips with her tongue. “Or excuse yourself before I arrived.”

Her voice has changed. It’s not a huge change but it’s noticeable. It’s slightly deeper, more womanly and less girlish. Her accent has changed too, which is unsurprising given the fact she’s lived in Cambridge for the past few years.

“May I come in?”

I realise that I’m gaping awkwardly at her. This surprise visit has thrown me for a loop. How did she even know I was here?

“No,” I respond before I can stop myself.

Her expression doesn’t change. “I’m not sure why you’re being awkward, if I’m honest.”

I laugh a little. “We haven’t seen each other in four years and here you are.” She blinks but remains silent. “Not even a ‘hello, Isaac’ or a ‘how are you, Isaac’…”

“Hello, Isaac; how are you, Isaac?” She parrots, rolling her eyes. “Better?”

My mouth falls open and a sharp pain stabs me in the chest. Who is this person standing before me? My Elle would never have been so rude.

She’s not your Elle.
My brain screams at me.

Is that what I was expecting? Is this why I didn’t sign the papers?

“Look… you’ve literally imposed on the first day off I’ve had in six weeks. Can we just get this over and done with?” She snaps, her brows furrowing and making her look so much younger than she is.

“I… I’ve imposed?” I laugh humourlessly. “You’re at my dad’s door.” She blinks again but seems unaffected by my words. “He’s doing okay, by the way,” I add.

“Good.” Her eyes soften as she says this and it seems genuine. I don’t really care at this point. I watch as she pulls an envelope from her bag, the same envelope that’s been delivered numerous times now. “Would you like to do this over coffee?”

“Do what?”

“Don’t be coy, Isaac. It doesn’t become you.”

I choke on a laugh. Did she really just say that? “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think it were your father speaking through you, Eloise.” I mentally cheer when I see her wince slightly; just the edges of her eyes creased and her lips thinned for a brief second. It was fleeting but I saw it. I step outside and pull the door closed behind me. “So you’re here about this?” I point to the envelope.

She nods. “Yes, clearly.” Her long fingers pinch the edge of the envelope as she holds it out towards me. I immediately notice how her fingernails are perfectly manicured with a sparkling gem on the tip of each. My Elle never bothered over things such as her nails.

Another part of my memory of her shatters.

“Why now?” I ask, though I’m not sure that I want to know the answer.

She doesn’t respond, simply pushing the envelope forward an inch, forcing me and my manners to take it. I watch as she rifles through her bag. Her layered, red hair falls around her face as she searches for something and then finally hands me a pen.

“I’ll need to get my solicitor to look it over.” I tell her, ignoring the pen she holds out for me.

“You don’t have a solicitor.”

How does she know this exactly? “Then I suppose I’ll have to get one.”

Her teeth sink into her lower lip, scraping over it in a way that makes me think back to all of the times she had those luscious lips wrapped around my… “It’s just the preliminary stuff. It’s just to set things in motion. You don’t need to have your solicitor look it over.”

My brow rises. “I’ll let my solicitor be the judge of that.”

“Isaac…”

“Elle.”

“Why are you being so awkward? Just sign it. I’ll take it back to my solicitor and then we’re done until we have to decide how to split everything.”

“Split everything?”

“Look…” She runs her fingers through her hair, forgetting about her sunglasses which clatter to the ground. She ignores them and so do I. I’m unwilling to be a gentleman towards such a cold person. “I don’t want anything of yours. I’m not going to fight you for the house or for anything you’ve accumulated over the years.” She finally crouches down and picks her sunglasses up.

This surprises me. “Then what do you want?”

“A divorce.”

I swallow in an attempt to shift the burning emotions warring inside. When I chose to marry this girl… woman… divorce wasn’t an option. Even when we separated, it never crossed my mind. Divorce isn’t something I’ve ever truly agreed with. I’ve always judged others on this type of permanent separation. I always thought that as long as one wasn’t abusive to the other, they should fight to be together.

I made that judgement, yet I didn’t hold up to my own standards.

Even so… divorce just seems so messy and final.

“That’s what you want?” I ask.

She levels me with a blank stare. “Yes. Don’t you?”

“No.” I respond honestly and I see a flicker of emotion in her eyes. “Why now?” I repeat my earlier question.

Shrugging, she pulls her vibrating phone from her pocket. She’s so well put together in a black pencil skirt, white shirt and a black blazer. She looks ready for a job interview or a funeral. “It’s time.” I see her lips twitch when she reads whatever is on her phone screen.

“You’re getting remarried.” I’m surprised that I manage to keep my voice level despite the pain that slices through me. It’s pain that I should have got over a long time ago.

“No…” She looks at me as though I’m crazy and I know I’ve hit a nerve as her voice rises a few octaves. “I’m not… it’s not…” Her eyes come to mine and she clears her throat. “Don’t pry, Isaac.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” I push the door open, giving her a view of my back. “Drive safe.”

“The…” I hear her say before I slam the door behind me.

I’m not sure why I’m so angry. I’m not sure why I can’t stand to look at her a moment longer.

I’m not sure what I’d hoped to gain by forcing any of this.

I should have just signed the fucking papers.

My entire body locks in place as I stare at the door which he just shut on me.

He said no…

He said fucking no.

What now?

I can’t afford a messy divorce. I don’t want a messy divorce.

My anger gets the better of me. I raise my fist and bang on the wooden door, my eyes narrowed and my determination set. “Isaac!”

He doesn’t respond so I keep on banging.

“What the hell I ever saw in you I have no fucking clue.” I spit under my breath.

White sheets of paper begin to fall from the sky. They flutter around me before landing on the damp ground. “I could say the same.” He shouts.

My jaw drops.

He’s a child.

He just did that.

He actually just did that.

I step away from the door and stare at the loose sheets that are scattered around the porch and driveway. The window above slams shut.

He’s a fucking child.

I storm to my car, my face hot and no doubt red as anger takes over every cell in my body.

Eloise
:
I’ll be there sooner than expected. Are you home?

Mum
:
I’ll put the kettle on.

My dad pulls into the driveway as I collect the final piece of paper from the wet ground and drop it in the green wheelie bin. He eyes me cautiously as he climbs from the car, his keys in hand. The car beeps as he locks it.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, sensing my mood.

“Eloise.”

He blanches and stops in the middle of the driveway. “As in your wife?”

“As in my soon to be ex-wife.” I mutter so quietly I’m surprised he even hears me.

“She wants a divorce?”

I haven’t yet spoken to him about the letters I’ve been receiving. I haven’t put much thought into any of it as yet. I suppose I’ve been biding my time whilst I sort through the mess in my head.

“Of course she wants a divorce… have you seen her? I’m surprised she didn’t ask for one sooner.” I admit bitterly and stomp towards the front door.

“What…” He clears his throat to hide his hesitation. “What’s she like?”

“Cold…” I burned her image onto my brain the second I saw all of her standing in the doorway.

“Cold?”

“Female version of her father.” A man I loathe beyond reason.

“Time changes people.” My father points out as we move into the kitchen. He drops his keys on the side and clicks on the kettle. “Leftover eggs?”

I completely forgot about my lunch, though my appetite is no longer existent so I suppose it no longer matters. I tip the half cooked eggs into the bin and drop the pan into the sink.

“You seem rattled.”

I let out a laugh. “Wouldn’t you have been?”

He nods his agreement and pulls two cups from the cupboard. “So you’re getting a divorce?”

Wincing, I lean over the sink and stare out of the window. “I don’t know.”

“Has she filed?”

“Yep.”

“Then what choice do you have?”

He has a point. “I don’t… I just…”

“You didn’t think it would happen so soon.”

I didn’t think it would happen at all. I’m not sure what I expected would happen. This is all such a mess. “She doesn’t want anything.”

He looks at me over his shoulder as I turn to face him. I rest my hip against the worktop and chew on the inside of my cheek. “She doesn’t want the house or anything?”

“Nope.”

“So why does she need a divorce?” His confused frown turns into a look of realisation. “She’s getting remarried.”

“She says she isn’t but I don’t know what else to think.” I hiss bitterly and rub my chest as I imagine what her fuck toy looks like.

“You still love her.” My dad points at me with a teaspoon between his fingers.

“No…” I deny because I know that isn’t it. Is it? “I’m just pissed off that she hasn’t been in touch for years and then when she does get in touch she doesn’t even say hello.” I blow out a defeated breath. “She didn’t even say hello.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I genuinely haven’t thought that far ahead.”

He shakes his head. “Just give her the divorce.” When I don’t respond, he gives me a long look. “You were hoping she’d come back.”

“No.”

“Yes.” He lets out a laugh. “Well then you better fight for her, hadn’t you?”

“That’s not it…” It’s not. I refuse to believe that I’ve been sat here subconsciously pining over a girl who is probably running into the arms of her next husband as we speak. Fuck that. “I just don’t like to be ordered around.”

“So you’re not giving her a divorce?”

“I am. I will.”

“Isaac…”

“I’ve got this under control.”

“You’re a terrible liar. Maybe you should just sit down with her and talk all of this through?” I don’t respond to his advice and instead fold my arms over my chest and stare at a spot on the wall as I try to gather my thoughts. “If she wants to let go, Isaac…”

“I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” I exit the room and grab my jacket off the hook in the hallway. “I’m going out.”

“Where?”

“For a drive.”

“Don’t do anything stupid, Son.”

Define stupid.

“I hate him.” I say for the hundredth time since arriving home.

My mum steers me towards the door, obsessed with the idea of a long walk to clear my head.

That’s not what I need. What I need is for Isaac to stop being such a pig-headed idiot with a stick up his arse.

She somehow manages to manoeuvre me out of the door anyway. “It’s so unfair. Why is he being like this?”

“I don’t know, Sweetie. Maybe seeing you was such a shock that he didn’t know how to react?”

“No, he’s just an arsehole.”

“You’ve become such a well-mannered young lady, Eloise. Don’t ruin it now with a potty mouth.”

Is she serious? “Mum…”

“Stop stressing over it. Text him or something. He might have calmed down by now.”

She has a point.

I let out a sigh and open my phone.

Silas’ name lights up the screen. I open his message before I start a new one.

Silas
:
Send me a sexy selfie. I miss you.

I laugh a little and feel a small portion of my anger dissipate.

Eloise
:
I’m with my mum. I can’t right now.

Silas
:
Shame… How goes it with your ex?

Eloise
:
Don’t ask. I’m feeling stabby. I’ll call you soon.

Silas
:
Okay. Take it easy. I love you.

I stare at Isaac’s number in my phone for a long moment. It’s the same number he’s always had. I’m not even sure if it’s the right one. I should have asked him today, not that he would have told me.

Anger flashes through me again at the memory of how unreasonable he was, but then confusion replaces my anger when I remember his answer to my question and the look in his eyes when he said it.

“Yes. Don’t you?” I asked, just wanting this over with.

“No.”

The way he said it… the look in his eyes… I’m not sure what it meant.

Eloise
:
Can we please meet so we can talk about this?

My mum links her arm through mine and walks us in the direction of the town centre. We stay relatively silent as I stress over today’s events in my mind.

I wasn’t too bothered about getting a divorce in the first place, but now I’ve been denied one I want it more than anything. I know getting a divorce at this point is the smart thing to do. I’ll never be rekindling my relationship with Isaac and eventually I might decide to marry somebody else. It just seems like getting a divorce now is the smart thing to do.

If he’s adamant that we aren’t getting a divorce because he doesn’t want to lose the house, then he needn’t worry. I was serious when I said I don’t want any of it. I just want to move on with my life. If he’d just signed his side of the papers in the first place, we could both be getting on with our lives.

Eloise
:
Please, Isaac. I have to leave soon.

It’s not until Mum and I reach Crystal’s café, where I used to work when I was a teen, that my phone finally alerts me to an incoming text.

Isaac
:
Meet me at the bench in the park in twenty minutes?

Eloise
:
I’ll be there.

I cross my fingers that he’s seen reason.