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Arthur seethed inwardly, stung by the callousness of James’s words, who had stormed out of the pub door just moments before. He didn’t understand how Arthur was feeling right now- had felt for the longest time. It wasn’t right.
The punch thrown now began to ache in the pit of his stomach- a painful reminder that he just lost a friend tonight, as well as any clear train of thought.
He glared into the whiskey he was nursing, and it glared back, the distorted refection of his gaze silently judging him for his own decisions. He could sense the tension in the rest of the room begin to settle, although furtive glances were still thrown his way from the disruptive scene they’d caused. Arthur loathed James for igniting this spark of anger, fanning into a malicious flame. This was his own choice after all, not one any other person had to be involved with.
Him and Bella’s marriage was rushed, sure, that much was true. But it wasn’t like he didn’t truly care about her, whatever James may think. She’s headstrong and caring and ambitious- a perfect human being in every regard. So why didn’t it feel right? Wouldn’t any normal man be head over heels besotted with her? Because-
Because Arthur didn’t love her.
Perhaps these thoughts had begun due to Daniel. Despite his best efforts, Bella’s father still looked upon him as a disgrace, as mud on the bottom of his shoe. That he, as this strange and conniving lover, had ripped Daniel’s only child away, leading her from her goals into a life of poverty. None of this need be said- Arthur knew it, had seen it in the man’s eyes. Perhaps these opinions his father-in-law held were getting to him, had finally broke him.
But no, no, that couldn’t be it. Him and Bella had such happy times together, content with one another’s company, chatting until the small hours. But what did that matter, really? He did that with his friends. Bella was supposed to be so much more than that- a wife, a lover, a soulmate. None of those words had ever struck a chord with Arthur.
He knew he what this sounded like. Drilled into him from an early age was that the worst thing a man can do is get divorced. It was against religion, against God’s word- as Daniel had put it. But Arthur didn’t believe in all that, so where did it leave him? He couldn’t just live in misery for the rest of his life because of what society thought of his actions.
Maybe ‘misery’ was too strong of a word. Or was it? Or-
Arthur slammed his drink into the table a little harder than necessary, causing it to slosh over the sides of the glass haphazardly. He wished his thoughts would cease rambling so he could gather himself together. The alcohol probably wasn’t helping.
He had to stop beating around the bush. There were two choices. He either left Bella, or he didn’t. That was that. He decided to hold off for a couple of days, and then break the news, leaving Bella with their newborn child in her arms-
God that sounded awful.
Chair scraping against the wood of the floor, he hauled himself up and headed to the exit, feeling twenty pairs of eyes follow him as he pushed open the door with a creak.
The evening was cool on his skin, only now occurring to him how claustrophobic it had been in there. The odd car passed by, stirring the late March air into a roadside breeze which whipped at the clothes of the few people who were out and about on the street.
As grey clouds hung ominously above his head, Arthur headed to his own parked car and clambered in, his shoulders heavy despite being out of the stuffiness of that judgemental room.
He now had a child, an extremely foreign concept. Not that he was especially bad with children- it was more he had never thought all this was going to happen in the first place: a wife, marriage, a family.
But did he really want this? His thoughts whispered to him as he drove toward the hospital. The wrongness of it all overrode any other feelings on the matter. What did James know about what was actually going on? James didn’t know a fucking thing.
He wished he could place a finger to the reason that lay behind this complicated situation.
The windshield wipers began to squeak gratingly as he turned them on. Rain began to splutter downwards as he arrived, falling in large droplets. He ground the infernal machine to a halt (it really had seen better days), and opened the car door, immediately becoming soaked through and chilled to the bone.
Great, perfect. Just the atmosphere he needed right now.
The hospital loomed above, reaching to touch the sky as its many windows stared down at him. He shoved open the sturdy door, now feeling a slight sense of urgency. How was he going to explain his absence to Bella?
The bright lights of the entrance hurt his eyes as made his way to the front desk, stating his name and reason for being there to the rather haggard looking nurse.
“One moment sir.”
A couple of days. He could wait a couple of days. He was positive this would sort itself out. It would be fine.
A bald, stern-faced doctor had appeared out of a corridor a minute later, catching Arthur’s gaze, seeming grave. He held his clipboard close to his chest with pursed lips, as if struggling to say something.
“You are Arthur Lester, correct?”
“Er-“ He stuttered, throat dry from the earlier argument. “Yes. Yes, i’m here for Bella, my wife. I’m sorry- i should have come sooner but-.”
“No, there’s no trouble there sir. However, I do have some rather sensitive news to share with you, if you’d care to come away from the waiting room with me-“
Perplexed, Arthur followed the man down the corridor he had come from, shoes squeaking against the overly polished floor. He was completely clueless. ‘Sensitive news’?
They came to an abrupt stop in front of a ward door- a more secluded area for maternity patients- as the doctor turned to him. Call it intuition or a sixth-sense, but suddenly Arthur had a wave of dread wash over him. No, he wasn’t about to be told that Bella was-
The doctor lowered his voice to a murmur “I am afraid to say that during childbirth, your wife passed away. I’m sorry, we did everything we could, but this birth ended up being quite irregular.”
So many emotions had flooded through his body in the past hour, but now they had all careened into a train wreck. If he hadn’t been sober before, he certainly was now. He was utterly numb.
“However, your daughter was safely delivered an hour ago, and is healthy in every respect.”
Daughter-
“If you would like to go in and give your last respects before we call in the coroner, then i will give you a few moments.”
Arthur’s tongue felt thick in his mouth; he couldn’t say a word. Instead he nodded dumbly and pushed open the door, feeling nothing at all.
The velvety curtains on his left were drawn shut, cutting off the small room from the outside world, turning it into its own strange little reality. More fluorescent lights shone down, illuminating the singular bed that lay in its centre, directly opposite from him.
She looked as though she were asleep, peaceful and at rest. Her fingers were curled around the thin bedsheets. Arthur stepped forward in disbelief.
Bella was dead.
Stupid, illogical thoughts raced through his mind. Was this his fault, for not arriving earlier? Had he somehow ill-wished her dead? But no, that would be something Daniel might say, that this was punishment for wanting to leave Bella, that “It’s all part of God’s plan”.
However, the coincidence was staggering.
A jarring cry rang out from a minute cot to the right of the bed, pulling Arthur’s numbness taught into a new kind of emotion. It sounded so helpless- yet so determined to survive. Arthur didn’t know why he felt cautious, but he was silent moving towards it to peer inside. There lay a chubby baby, swaddled in a white towel.
His daughter.
Her crying subsided as this stranger came into view, and she wriggled uncomfortably, flailing her tiny fists in the air, seeming disgruntled. Despite everything, Arthur felt himself give a small smile at this miniature human being. But his smile quickly dropped. What was that the doctor had said?
“-safely delivered an hour ago-“
An hour ago. He had left his daughter alone in the world for an entire hour, with the only person in her vicinity who could have possibly cared was her dead mother lying next to her. All because he wanted to get drunk and wash away his own selfish sorrows.
And it was at that precise second of his life that Arthur swore he would always be there for this little girl.
Always.
He jolted awake with a gasp, face damp with tears and breathing shallow. He sat up groggily. The room was bathed in stillness. It must be the middle of the night.
Arthur..?
John’s voice was layered with concern, and he cringed inwardly at waking up in this pathetic way. He knew John cared about him- one way or another- and Arthur truly trusted him now, much more than any other person alive. But this certain memory still stang enough for him to want to hold it close to his chest. For now at least.
It hadn’t been long back that Scratch had invaded his mind, forcing that particular memory to the surface. But now, there was no Scratch, or any other eldritch entity toying with his past. So why had he dreamt of this now?
Arthur, are you… alright?
He contemplated how much he was willing to share “Yes i’m- i’m fine, John. It was just a bad dream.”
What sort of dream? Suspicion crept into his speech.
“Nothing ominous! Not like before, just- a normal bad dream, was all.”
Arthur could almost feel him fidgeting, desperate to ask more. But he was sure after the last time John wanted to know about his past, he learnt not to push it, to let Arthur share at his own pace-
So, what was it about?
God dammit John.
“Fuck- i don’t have to tell you about every dream i have, do i?
John gave a sarcastic huff of laughter, and then lapsed into an agitated silence. Perhaps that was too harsh- the anger at James must have sloshed over into the waking world.
“Look,” he sighed, holding his hand up to his face- partly in frustration with himself, but mostly to discreetly wipe away the lingering tears.
“I have many past regrets- you know most of them. It’s just that some parts i’m not ready to share yet. I trust you. Honestly, i do. But these memories are ones that i’d much rather leave alone. Move on from.”
John’s voice softened, choosing his words with care. I… understand, Arthur. I understand that none of this has been easy. But just know that i’ll always be here, if you ever want to.
“Well, i suppose you’re not going anywhere, are you?” Arthur quipped dryly. Here John gave a real laugh this time.
No, i suppose not.
He felt John’s hand against his chest (how long had it been there?), and thought that despite the horrors they had faced, and scars they had collected- physically and mentally- he was happy in this life. If only it could stay like this forever.
Every single mistake, every regret, every wrong action or wrong word; they all lingered in his mind like hungry wolves waiting for him to give up. To succumb to the guilt. But there was no way in hell he would. And he knew that John wouldn’t let him either. I will not let you drown. Whenever situations began to seem too improbable or terrible to face, he clutched onto those words. His lifeline.
John chimed in again. Just know, that it’s accurate, what Daniel said.
Bella didn’t love you, either-
“And what was that?”
You are a good man, Arthur.
He hoped he was. Sincerely after everything, he hoped he was.
“Thank you. For everything, really. I don’t say it often enough.”
That’s ok. I… Thank you, too.
Lying back down and drawing the covers up to the scar that adorned his neck, he wondered if John had correctly guessed the contents of his dream. Or perhaps John now knew him so well he could articulate just what Arthur needed to hear.
“Goodnight John.” He whispered into the nothingness.
Goodnight, Arthur. His friend muttered back.
Perhaps this too, really will pass.