The Eden Club
828 Words
Margaret's POV
For some reason, I felt deeply wounded by Sebastian’s words. It wasn’t that he had asked a question, it was what the question implied. That he didn’t fully trust me anymore, that he still saw me through the lens of a past I had long left behind. Maybe that wasn’t his intention, but perception has a way of wounding as much as intention does.
I took another puff, letting the smoke fill my lungs, and then I heard footsteps approaching. I assumed it was Sebastian, but it wasn’t. In fact, it was Julia. A broad smile appeared on her lips the moment she saw me. I tried to smile back, though my emotions betrayed me, and I doubted she would have noticed the tension in my expression.
"What's wrong?" Julia asked immediately as she stood in front of me. There was a calm curiosity in her voice, but also a sharpness that made me straighten instinctively, aware that I was being observed.
"Nothing," I replied casually, trying to sound lighter than I felt. My voice was steadier than my heart.
"Am I welcome to have a drink with you?" she asked, and I gestured to the couch for her. She sat down gracefully beside me.
"Do you mind?" I asked, passing her the pack of cigarettes. She took one and lit it immediately, inhaling deeply as if to absorb the atmosphere I was trying to hold onto.
"Thanks, dear," she muttered with a smile, puffing smoke gently in and out through her nostrils.
"You're welcome. I thought you would be long asleep," I said, watching her carefully, waiting for her reaction.
"I tried, but I wasn’t able to," she replied, puffing her cigarette again, and I noticed the faint crease of weariness on her forehead.
"Health issues or stress?" I asked, my curiosity slipping into concern.
"Both. I’m not seeing your husband with you now. Is he already asleep?"
"Yes. You know he was really stressed today," I replied, removing the excess ash from my cigarette into the ashtray.
"Oh," she said softly and took a long gulp from the bottle of bourbon, her movements deliberate, as if trying to savor something I couldn’t quite name.
"Has someone ever brought up your past during an argument just to prove a point?" I asked reluctantly, sparing her a glance that searched for understanding.
"Yes, and most times he always succeeded in manipulating me to believe that I was wrong the whole time and he was right in his judgment," she said while staring into the distance, and her words resonated with me. I thought of Sebastian and my chest tightened. Had he tried to do the same? Was that the real fear behind his words?
"I'm sorry you had to feel that way," I said, taking another gulp from the bourbon. My tolerance for alcohol was high, but each sip felt like a small comfort against the weight pressing on my chest.
"Is that the reason you are here, alone, drinking?" she asked, her voice gentle, probing yet respectful.
"Yes. I just needed to clear my head. I feel he doesn't trust me anymore. I feel like he sees me through the lens of my past, and that really is unsettling," I replied, exhaling a long plume of smoke, watching it dissolve into the night.
"But you guys dated for how long?" she asked.
"Eight years," I said, and the weight of that time hung between us, heavy with memories, arguments, reconciliations, and promises.
"And all that while, you didn't notice any of these traits?" she asked without sparing me a glance.
"Nope," I replied, already weary from what now felt like an interrogation disguised as conversation.
"Okay then, I think maybe he's just trying to care. I think many people have different ways of showing care, and maybe that's just his way of caring. You know, there can only be two reasons for this action. Firstly, like you said, he doesn't trust that you are off the hook with your past, or somehow he still suspects you. And secondly, for him to make that statement involving your past mistake, it isn't just a passing word. He has been suspecting it for a long time, and you only gave him reasons to confront you," she said, and spared me a second glance. I immediately averted my eyes to the side so she wouldn't read my facial expression. Her words carried so much weight that I felt the chill of truth settle in me.
"You know what? I think we should forget about this and do something fun," Julia suggested, and I looked up at her lazily, my exhaustion evident.
"And what would that be?" I asked, my tone flat, lacking the enthusiasm she seemed to expect.
"Have you heard of the men of Eden club?" she asked, and I looked at her skeptically, curiosity warring with
The tension that still sat like a stone in my chest.
- Writer
