Chapter Text
[1]
“Martha, I’m going away someplace, to begin again. Will you come with me?”
“Thank you, Karen. Let’s talk about it tomorrow. I want to go to sleep.”
Miss Wright sat where she had last seen Martha only an hour ago, on the couch by the window. Unmoving—more unable to move rather than unwilling—she reclined in a daze, her mind and her heart feeling as though they had just gone for a tumble down a hill, her eyes trained on the other side of the room. Her gaze was cast in an unfocused manner; she did not settle on either of the other two people with her. Karen didn’t have the strength to look at anyone just then, for she feared terribly unbearable emotions would rise out of her again. Her face was still wet with tears, her throat felt scratchy and hoarse, and her fingertips stung from rope burns—and those were only the physical leftovers, if that said anything.
Joe was with her, but he was concerned with Martha, checking her vitals, her breathing, whatever else a doctor needed to check in a situation like this. Such a good man Joseph Cardin was—to be pushed away by the woman he loved and still come to Karen’s aid when she called him, sobbing Martha’s name and nothing else.
He was a better man than half the world could ever hope to be, Karen thought..
“I’ve done about all I can for her,” said Joe, finally cutting through the silence that filled the bedroom. Karen snapped her attention to him suddenly, though expectantly, awaiting his official prognosis. He waved his hand as he dropped his stethoscope into his bag. “She’ll be fine, with a little rest and some fluids if you can convince her.”
Karen felt herself deflate immediately as all the tension stored in her body finally eased. “You can’t begin to imagine what a relief that is to hear,” she muttered, closing her eyes and willing away the tears that threatened to form. She just felt so grateful that Martha was going to be alright.
Joe’s footsteps cut through the silence of the room as he walked, but Karen didn’t care to spare him a glance until he was standing right in front of her. There were many things he wanted to say, it looked like, but Karen was in no mood to hear it. She hadn’t called him here to rehash what had already been sorted; her choice was made, and that decision had not wavered. The idea of returning to a life with Joe made little sense now. For so many reasons, ones she understood and ones she did not yet.
It was so strange, though—he was the kind of man she had always wanted; she had come very close to actually marrying Joe, though when Karen steeled her nerves and cast a quick glance at her ex-fiancé now… she felt nothing. How strange it was, to look at that man and find none of the familiar feelings.
But everything she had ever felt for him, that had all been before. Before Mary’s accusations, before Joe began to falter, before Martha had…
Now she just wanted to be free of him, as harsh as it was to think. Joe still loved her, she knew that, but Karen no longer trusted Joe. Not like she had before. He had lost his trust first, even if he claimed to regain it. Part of her wished she’d never told Joe to ask that damn question, but the whole of her knew he would have asked it eventually. And that was it, wasn’t it—even if he hadn’t broken then, it would have come up later in some disagreement or other. Always would it have hung over the brunette’s head. What kind of love would that bring them going forward? Not one Karen wanted anything to do with, that was certain.
Joe spoke gently, “Karen,” and he reached out a hand to brush her face. The brunette tipped her head away, ever so slightly avoiding the contact. Joe’s gaze dropped, as did his hand, before he offered, “How about I make you some coffee?”
Karen sighed. “That would be very kind of you,” she said, simply.
“It’s nothing,” Joe replied, turning to leave.
He paused in the doorway, and she could sense every word he wanted to say to her. Every beg, every plea, every confession of love and promise for the future, she could practically hear them all being screamed at her—but Joe said nothing. Instead, he continued walking and disappeared down the hall. She was so grateful for that, there would never be enough words.
Karen didn’t watch him beyond the door frame. She closed her eyes again and breathed deeply for a few moments, silently being consumed by the urge to see her friend. Rising up from the couch, separating herself from the fear that had her rooted in Martha’s previous spot, Karen pushed herself across the room to the bed, and when she sat down beside the woman, finally Karen gazed at Martha Dobie’s face. And that was when the tears fell.
Her expression looked so… serene, as if she had merely gone to bed for the night. If Karen kept her eyes only on Martha’s face, which even now looked as pretty as ever, she might have been able to pretend the last hour of her life had never occurred. But there was no ignoring the blue bruises and red, raw burns below her jaw, left by the rope; they were a stark, startling sight.
The contrast between her pale skin and the violently vibrant colors of her wounds was brutal and unsettling. Looking at them made Karen’s stomach turn, and her throat burned from the bile that rose. Sobs ripped their way out into the silent room then, and Karen snapped her eyes shut and squeezed against the falling tears, though she couldn’t keep them closed for long.
The image of Martha, hanging… it festered in Karen’s mind behind her eyelids, causing her to tremble. The real sight had brought her to the brink of total devastation. Driven only by instincts had Karen managed to climb the nearby chair and free the rope from the rafter. The resounding thud of Martha against the wooden floor still echoed in Karen’s mind. She swallowed and shook her head as if she could physically rid herself of the horrible memory. It was over, she tried to tell herself, but Karen felt… haunted. She believed the memories of the evening would plague her for as long as she lived. She couldn’t even begin to grasp how very close she had come to losing Martha.
Her friend was alive, resting beside her, chest rising and falling as she breathed in-out, in-out.
But had Karen been a moment later, if she had not acted so swiftly, if she had frozen…
“Oh Martha,” Karen murmured through her shuddering sobs and gasping breaths as her hand desperately sought out Miss Dobie’s. She held it as if everything in the world depended on that connection. Maybe it did. If she hadn’t been so lucky, Karen might’ve never held this hand again. Her grasp tightened.
In her chest, her heart ached rottenly. She hadn’t known about the quiet, vicious pain her friend had borne all these months. Martha’s outburst blindsided Karen; her agony had been so violent, so overwhelming, it had shocked Karen entirely, rendered her speechless in the face of such an emotional break. Karen could still hear the way she shouted and sobbed:
“I feel so damn sick and dirty, I can’t stand it anymore!”
Karen tore her gaze from Martha, rubbing her cheek, angry with every last person who had ever led her to feel such a way—Martha couldn’t have been further from such a description. And though she was not at fault, Karen couldn’t help the anger directed toward herself, for the way she balked in the face of her friend’s despair. She wished she had said something, something to ease her friend’s pain, assuage her mind, keep her from doing… this.
But how could Karen have known what Martha would try to do? And how did one even begin to convince the purest soul Karen had ever known that she was not dirty?
“Martha, I—” Karen whispered, choking on her own words.
Once more, she found herself struggling to say anything. How very full her mind felt at that moment, and yet she understood none of her own thoughts anymore. God, how unsure everything felt then. As the brunette sat there, clutching the hand of her friend, it occurred to Karen she had taken for granted that Martha would always be with her.
There was no denying Miss Dobie was important to Miss Wright, but after the day’s events, it seemed clear that Martha was easily the most important person in Karen’s life. Not Joe, the man she had planned to marry, but Martha. Her dearest friend, her most trusted confidant, her business partner and the person with whom the brunette shared so many dreams for the future with. What would have happened if she’d lost Martha? Where would she go, what would she do with herself, what future would she have if Martha wasn’t there?
A life without her best friend was unthinkable; it was so out of the realm of reality, she couldn’t even picture it.
Karen admitted the sentiment quietly. “It’s so silly, Martha. I can’t imagine my life without you.” Gently, she squeezed the hand she held, gazing at the woman so tenderly, mouth quivering into a sad frown. She whispered, her words shaking, “Please don’t make me.”
Her friend did not respond, but she shifted under the sheets of her bed, fingers returning a small squeeze of their own somehow. It sparked a flicker of hope in Karen’s chest, one that made her warm all over. On instinct, she leaned in and pressed a kiss to Martha’s forehead, but she didn’t pull away afterwards. The closeness to Martha brought her immense comfort. Reaching out with her other hand, Karen stroked Martha’s cheek, before tucking a bit of loose hair behind the woman’s ear.
Her heart felt oddly full just then, and it must have been how purely thankful she was to still have Martha with her. What else could it be? She leaned in again, pressing another kiss to Martha’s cheek, before she heard footsteps on the stairs.
“Karen?” Joe's voice came from down the hall. Karen straightened her posture swiftly as the doctor reentered the room, carrying two cups of coffee. She accepted the one Joe passed her, watching him as he took a seat next to the bed. He took a sip, observing her. “You’re wearing Martha’s coat.”
Karen looked down at herself. “Am I?” she asked. “It was the first coat I found downstairs, I… had felt like going for a walk earlier.”
“We still could, if you wanted,” Joe proposed gently.
Karen shook her head. “I’d rather stay here.” By Martha. “Thank you, though,” she smiled, though the expression was hardly genuine.
Joe nodded and glanced at the woman resting, a pensive look crossing his face. His brow furrowed as thought after thought ran through his mind. He shook his head and asked sincerely, “How did this happen, Karen?” Karen inhaled sharply, feeling tears pricking her eyes again. Would she ever run out of tears for Martha?
“I don’t know where to begin,” she said, her hold on Martha’s hand tightening. “Mrs. Tilford came to tell us Mary had been caught in her lies. That there would be a public apology, and an explanation in the papers. She said she was going to speak with Judge Porter about reversing the verdict as well.” Joe’s brows raised, and Karen recognized hope in his eyes when she looked at him. She ignored it and continued, “She even offered us money for damages.” A lump formed in her throat. “But Martha…”
Had confessed to Karen something the brunette would never dare to betray the trust of, regardless of how confused it left her feeling. Too concerned with Martha’s health, she hadn’t given herself the time to process what it all meant, though now was not the time. Besides that, Karen did not think she could repeat some of the things Martha had said to her. At least, not to Joe.
“I don’t know how, I don’t know why, but I did love you. I do love you!”
There was a distinct ringing in her ears and a warmth that blossomed in her cheeks from thinking about certain words Martha had used. Love… Her heart sped up a tad, and it felt a little difficult to breathe for a moment. Shaking her head, Karen sipped her coffee and then set it down, resting her now free hand over the pale one she already held.
She murmured, “I suppose it all just… became too much for her to bear.”
“It was too much for both of you,” said Joe, reaching out to touch Karen’s arm. His thumb stroked over her as he told her, “But it’s over now. Isn’t it?”
“It is,” she agreed, never taking her gaze off Martha’s sweet face. “It doesn’t feel like it, though.”
Joe reassured her, “It will, Karen. It will.” Karen nodded halfheartedly, though a large part of her did not believe him.
None of this would be over until Karen could take Martha somewhere she’d be safe. Staying here wouldn’t do either of them any good. There would always be stares, whispers, rumors. Certainly now that she and Joe were no longer engaged, but it would have been that way even if she did marry him. Their exoneration was only in the legal sense. Surely he understood that.
Joe placed his cup down suddenly, startling Karen. He took her hands—took Karen’s hands from Martha’s—and turned her face to his, drawing her attention away from the resting woman by her side. His eyes shined as they gazed at her, so full of confidence and determination it was nearly admirable. Once more, Karen saw everything Joe wanted to tell her; he began to speak, but she didn’t want to hear what he would say.
“Joe, don’t.” She held a finger over his lips, speaking to him as gently and kindly as she could whilst holding firm. When Joe opened his mouth again, as his confidence would not be dimmed, again Karen had to thwart him. “I can’t change my decision, Joe.”
“You can,” Joe implored her, leaning in close. “You said it yourself, it was all a lie. We can move past this, Karen. We’ll get married, you and Martha can reopen the school, it’ll be like old times.” He brought a hand to her cheek and looked so terribly hopeful.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly, her words tinged with finality as she wrapped her hand around Joe’s wrist. Removing that hand from her face, she pressed a kiss to his palm and sighed. “But I’m afraid it doesn’t work like that. I can’t marry you Joe, too much has changed between us.” She inhaled. “I have to go away. And you have to stay here.”
“Karen, it doesn’t have to be like this.” He was prepared to argue this, it was plain as day across his face, but there was nothing he could say to convince her—Karen was sure of that, even if she was not sure of much anymore. “You don’t have to go,” Joe whispered, his breaking heart clear in his words.
Karen closed her eyes, shaking her head as she murmured, “I do, though. I can’t stay here. I’m not welcome—no matter if Mrs. Tilford and the papers apologize, it will never reverse the damage done.” She glanced at Martha, clenching her hands into trembling, white-knuckled fists. A sharp pain jabbed her in the chest as her eyes flickered across her friend’s wounds. “I can’t help feeling they drove her to this.”
Joe furrowed his brow. “Karen—”
“They ruined our lives over the lies of a silly little girl who should have never been listened to in the first place!” snapped Karen. She shook her head again, as tears began to well and fall. “Their misguided crusade nearly cost the life of— of—”
Karen swallowed her words, surprised by their intensity, wiping her cheeks with the sleeve of her coat. “I couldn’t live in the same town as those cruel people. I think it would make me a very angry person.” Finally raising her gaze back to Joe, guilt found her the moment she caught the look in his eyes. But her resolve was firm. “I can’t stay here any longer, and I don’t think Martha should either,” she said quietly. “But Joe, you have to. You have family here. A practice. This is the place you want to be—it would be wrong to leave it all behind, you know that.”
The man sitting before her said nothing. After a moment, he simply sighed, closing his eyes. Karen held her breath and hoped he would understand.
Softly, finally, Joe admitted, “I know that.”
He said nothing else. Had nothing else to say, it seemed. Her words had reached him at last, and like the good man he was, Joe understood. Head hung like a beaten boxer, Karen saw the pain he tried his best to conceal, and she couldn’t help feeling guilty once again. She tried to tell herself that, sometimes, doing the best thing for oneself was not easy; it did not absolve her of guilt, but it reminded her of her strength.
Slowly, after a long stretch of silence, Joe brought one of her hands to his lips and pressed a kiss into her skin. Then released her. It truly did feel like a release.
A beat or two passed between them before Joe asked quietly, “Will Martha go with you?”
The tips of her fingers stung from the rope burns she’d gotten earlier. They answered for her, it seemed. After everything she had done to keep that woman in her life… Karen fought the urge to laugh, because she thought very earnestly that she would not let Martha say no.
Instead, she brought a hand to stroke Martha’s hand and said: “If she wants to.”