After All - Part Forty Five

Chapter Forty Five

Mattie didn’t sleep, how could she? Her mind was overactive; there were so many questions, so many problems, but no obvious solutions. She loved Dylan to distraction, that was blatantly obvious. She’d dared to dream, dared to believe that this was their second chance. She’d honestly believed that if she’d had time, if they’d talked, planned, worked out how they could iron out all the pain and hurt they’d caused each other, that they could get past the past, and then she honestly believed that he’d have coped with the news. At the right time, the right place, he’d have trusted her, he’d have understood. Instead that bastard Andy had blurted it out a sordid, dirty secret.

All night the ‘what if’s’ had circled her brain, what if she’d told him on day one? At least she still hated him then, or thought she did, if he had stormed off into the distance then, she’d have been relieved. Or when they became friends? There was time there to say what had happened, but by then he was her boss, the last thing she’d have needed was him hating her, the animosity at work...

Like she’d have now.

When sleep eluded her, her mind overactive, she plotted what she’d do the next day. She’d called the hotel at a ridiculous hour to be told that Mr Wallace had arrived late the previous night; at least she knew he was safe. But that didn’t help her sleep. Still she tossed and turned, punching lumps out of her pillow, kicking the duvet off, the pulling it back over her. Nothing helped.

She must have fallen asleep, because she woke up, pain, tired, aching all over. It was almost midday when she managed to focus on the clock, the sun blasting through a crack in the curtains. Her head hurt, her heart hurt. It was a bad day. She staggered into the lounge to see the remainders of their romantic afternoon, plates, wine glasses, stacked ready to be washed. Her makeup bag was open on the counter as Dylan had been hogging the bathroom mirror, so she’d used the highly polished surface of the expensive refrigerator to apply lipstick and eyeliner.

Everywhere she turned there was a memory, a sign that for twenty four hours all her Christmases had come at once. Now she saw a shell, empty casings hinting at what might have been.

Mattie drank some orange juice, tried to settle her stomach, but it was no use. She should wait until the following morning, see Dylan at work, try to talk to him. But the thought of seeing him with an audience, with colleagues present.

No, she had to go see him now. Get this over and done with; there was no way she could wait until Monday. This was all or nothing, if he couldn’t understand her, didn’t want to listen, believe, then she’d have to walk away, take what remained of her fragile psyche and disappear, somewhere, anywhere. And that would mean accepting that her time at the Sunshine Club was over. And she felt the need to mourn that as well as for the disaster zone that replaced her heart.

The hotel was quiet, there was usually a rush for Sunday lunches, but the unexpected sunny afternoon had obviously sent people to parks and beaches instead. Mark one of her many trusted staff, was stood at reception and smiled when she approached.

                “Hi Mark, is Mr Wallace upstairs?”

He shook his head, “he’s in his office...he had a meeting earlier, but he’s alone now.”

She nodded, then when the receptionist looked away grimaced. She wasn’t exactly looking forward to this. Plus her feet were killing her, the previous night’s trek in ridiculous shoes had ripped her feet to shreds, even the flip-flops she wore with her jeans were rubbing the wounds raw.

Dragging herself up the corridor, she rounded the corner towards the offices, and kicked off the shoes with gasps of relief, then carried them in her hand as she approached the barrier that was Dylan’s closed office door.

Tapping gently several times didn’t get a response, so in the end, she pushed open the door. Dylan was bent over his computer and didn’t even look up, though when she spoke she could see him freeze, pause for that briefest of moments, but a telltale sign that this mattered.

                “Can we talk?” her voice sounded strange in the unforgiving silence.

With a harsh laugh and his head still dropped, he snapped, “talk? Huh! Too late.”

                “Dylan please. Don’t do this.”

He shook his head defensively, still not looking up from his work, though she knew he wasn’t concentrating on anything but her words.

                “I get that this has hurt you...I am sorry, sorry for it all.” Still he was silent. Suddenly Mattie knew it was all or nothing time, she couldn’t spend her life in limbo, couldn’t work for a man who hated her. She had to throw down all her cards...and be prepared to lose everything.

                “I was wrong to make the decision on my own, but I was desperate...I tried to call you,” she hated that tears thickened her voice. “But you didn’t answer...the divorce papers...they were my bluff...I was hoping to shock you into realising what you’d left behind. But you signed them, then stopped answering my calls.” She gulped at the lump in her throat as she protested.

                “So this is all my fault again? Great!”

She shook her head, “all I know is that I had to decide how best to survive. I couldn’t look after a baby, it was too difficult. I had to do what I did.”

His head finally lifted and he snarled at her, “that was MY baby too.” But the snarl choked on emotion as he once again struggled to speak.

She nodded, “you’re right, and whilst I did what I had to do, regardless of what you might think,” she added as he started to protest. “It was what I had to do, the only option, but that doesn’t mean that a day goes past when I don’t wish that I could have had that baby, that I could hold it in my arms, because it pains me Dylan, it has pained me EVERY day for five years. You want to punish me, you want to hate me? Well join the queue, because I torture myself every day, I have done since that day, and I hate a part of me too.”

He was listening, she knew that, and this was her swansong, “you know that I love you, you know that if there was any other way...”

He shook his head passionately, “there was ALWAYS another way.”

Shaking her head ruefully she disagreed with him, “the last two days...they were amazing, everything I’ve ever wanted, even though I denied it for so long. I honestly want this...us...a future.”  As he continued to shake his head vehemently, she sighed, “don’t hate me...please.”

Tears were now rolling down her face, “Dylan, this is the problem with us; on both times we’ve been together we haven’t talked, not properly. We get caught up in the moment, never discuss our feelings.”

                “You don’t want to know how I feel.”

She smiled, “you’re probably right. But for the record I love you, but if we can’t work this out, then I have to leave...I’m going to visit my father, tomorrow. If you want to come with me...try...talk...then I’ll be at your apartment, but if you don’t...then I’ll go and not come back. I won’t expect wages, and I will organise rent for the weeks I spent at your place. I’ll have my belongings put in storage.”

He was staring at the computer screen, but he wasn’t focussing, she only hoped he was hearing her. But he let her whimper slightly, swiping at her eyes with her hand. 

As she turned for the door, he murmured, “what happened to your feet?”

It wasn’t the words she hoped for, but it was a hint, “bad shoes,” she whispered. “Had to walk home in heels.”

His eyes flashed at hers and she could see the anger instantly take over from the sympathy in his eyes. “Go see Mark, he’s out first aider.”

She shook her head, that comment was more hurtful than any other he’d issued in the last eighteen hours, “I’ll survive...I always do.”

Had she honestly expected him to come? She wasn’t sure. She knew how stubborn Dylan was, hell he’d always done JUST what he wanted in life, when it came to decisions he didn’t trust anyone as he trusted himself. He hated her, and nothing she said would make him change that opinion. She’d put her heart on her sleeve.

And it wasn’t enough.

As her flight took off and London disappeared into the distance, she couldn’t feel enthusiasm, couldn’t feel happy. After all, he’d ruined her once, he was the only person who could do that to her, and she’d tried to resist him, tried to close down her heart. But Matilda Davies loved Dylan Wallace, and it broke her in two...again.

Dylan slammed the wall with the heel of his hand, he was no boxer and he wasn’t stupid enough to punch the wall, he would break his hand knowing him. Instead he lashed out with a slightly safer version. That was the new him, the ‘safe’ risk taker! He almost laughed, when had he become that man? Five years ago he’d had smashed into the wall uncaring of the consequences, now he couldn’t even show his frustration properly.

It was twenty four hours since Matilda had walked out of his office. A broken devastated Matilda...not that he was feeling sorry for her. He wasn’t. She’d hurt him. The thought of what she did still caused him physical pain, he’d not cried since he was a child, but the thought of what could have been, what he had lost was insurmountable, he’d thought that losing his wife, or rather being left by her had hurt him in ways he hadn’t though imaginable, but now...the thought that there could have been a child...SHOULD have been a child hurt him even more. All his life he’d felt unloved, unwanted, he’d secretly longed for the time when he’d have a child to shower with all the love he’d never had.

But you’d have been in Hong Kong...and then New York.

Despite his inner monologue he wasn’t happy to think his role in this, HE was the one hard done by, HE was the one who’d been hurt, and he turned back to his work ignoring the voice that told him he was being childish, that there were two sides to every story.

                “So Mattie’s gone on holiday?”

He looked up from the agenda he’d just been emailed for the imminent board meeting In New York to see Sarah stood in the doorway to his office, hands on hips. He groaned. “God save me from bloody women!” He hissed the words under his breath.

                “We are up to our eyes, she’s got all the information for the big conference next week, need I remind you three days, four hundred delegates.”

He ran a hand through his hair, had Matilda gone on holiday? She’d mentioned it briefly in the height of their discord; he remembered something about visiting her father? He took a deep breath, “everything we need is on her computer. You can do this without her Sarah. If you need extra help, then I’ll sanction it.”

He glanced back at his computer but sensed that she hadn’t left, looking up, he lifted an eyebrow in question, “yes?”

                “So she’s gone on holiday?”

He gave an abrupt nod, but Sarah wasn’t one to be easily fobbed off.

                “Where?” She stepped into the office and closed the day. “I mean last week you two were...well let’s just say that you were getting along.” She sighed when he shrugged in a non-committal way, “Dylan, I know you are my boss, but I am worried. Mattie isn’t impulsive, she’s committed, industrious and conscientious, she doesn’t disappear like this. Where is she?”

Dylan sighed, dropping his head for a moment, “you think I’ve hurt her?”

Sarah shrugged, “I just know this is out of character.”

He nodded, “me and Matilda...it’s complicated. She’s gone to see her father. She’ll be back.”

Sarah was staring at him, and he hated the scrutiny, “can I have your word on that? Because I think you have the power to break her.”

He stood up, hands on hips, “and I’m the Ice man, is that it? I’m incapable of being hurt?”

That stunned her, “of course not...”

                “I appreciate your concern, for her, but she is fine. She’ll be with her father...and I will authorise whatever it takes to let her have this trip. Ok?”

Sarah wasn’t convinced, but for the moment left him alone. And he needed time to keep one hand on his sanity.