the higher I climb the farther I fall - Printable Version
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RE: the higher I climb the farther I fall - Melody Crouch - February 3, 2021
She hadn't turned to watch Arthur leave, so missed the nod towards Ben entirely. She did, however, pick up upon the reluctance to which Ben sat down. It made sense to her that he wouldn't want to work things out, that he would rather follow his friend into whatever unknown and be a single bachelor once more. And, truthfully, Melody wouldn't begrudge him if he did. Any hope she had of happiness with Ben vanished when she discovered the news of his bastard. Surely, if she was ready to give in, he must've been too.
"I packed it when I thought we were divorcing." She replied. Back when she lived in constant fear that he was going to turn her into the authorities. Even then, she wouldn't have blamed him for it. Marianne might've believed Melody to have some value, but any amount of self worth she had had slowly vanished throughout the past year and a half.
RE: the higher I climb the farther I fall - Reuben Crouch - February 3, 2021
The wheels in Ben's head started turning at her answer. She packed when she thought they were divorcing — before Christmas, then. Had she been living out of her suitcases ever since? He wondered how he hadn't noticed, but given how distant they'd been over the holiday season and then how distant he had been once he'd started receiving letters about Elliott, it really wasn't much of a surprise. Still, a voice that sounded a lot like Art chimed in the back of his head: this is not normal, you are not okay. Neither of them were; it wasn't normal for Ben to feel so paranoid about how he spent his time that he could not make plans to leave the house without having a ready excuse, and it wasn't normal to burn his letters to keep them from her. It wasn't normal to live out of suitcases for over a month because you were constantly afraid your husband was going to ask you to leave your house.
"So I guess neither of us really believed in it," he said wearily. "Our fresh start."
This hung in the air. Ben wondered if he ought to force a laugh but he wasn't even sure if he'd meant it to be a joke or not, so it seemed stupid to try and pretend he found anything funny about it.
After a long pause, he said quietly, "I didn't want to tell Art. I didn't really tell him." He looked at his hands, flexing his fingers uncomfortably. "But he's not stupid, so he's probably guessed. I — I was afraid you'd —" he broke off, face red. "I didn't know where you were. And the last conversation we had was when I left. So I thought — I had to check the apothecary," he said, a little desperately; the subtext of this little speech being please understand; please forgive me. "I had to check. I just didn't want — but you didn't. Right? You didn't."
RE: the higher I climb the farther I fall - Melody Crouch - February 3, 2021
No, Melody had fullheartedly believed in the fresh start in the first few days. Her thoughts were constantly dreaming of the trip they were to take and how they would finally have a chance at happiness. Then, Ben's continued distance pulled at that happiness like a dull knife turning through her gut. The belief in a fresh start first bled out slowly until he had left and taken the knife with him. "No, I guess not." She stated quietly, sadly. There was no use in relaying her hurt over this to him, not when she had hurt him more by going through his things.
The long silence stretched on as Melody continued to look down at her lap. Although Marianne was right about Ben remaining with her because of the baby, Melody felt as she had the morning after Valentine's Day — like she had willingly trapped Ben without his consent again. Only, she hadn't. It wasn't only her idea to bed him on this very same parlor floor, nor was it only her acts that forgot the condom. Ben was an equally active participant, and yet Melody was still buried under the burning layer of guilt.
She flinched visibly as he mentioned the apothecary for a second time. Hot and bitter remarks flew through her head despite the otherwise quiet conversation they were having. He more or less told Arthur about the potion she took last spring, and, in doing so, made it plain he hadn't supported her decision. Even if he had pushed the vial towards her, even if he said things like 'If you don't want to keep it, don't,' and 'I want out' Ben didn't agree with the choice Melody had agonized over. Somehow, knowing that made her grief over her decision hurt all the more.
No, she didn't forgive Ben for the betrayal.
Gus nosed at her skirts, a thankful distraction from the tears that were building behind her eyes. Crying wouldn't solve anything and Ben likely wouldn't even be sympathetic to them. Not if he was furious enough with her to tell Arthur a great many vile things about her, anyway. Melody dropped a hand from her lap to scratch his head without thinking before shaking her head no. "I couldn't — I can't live through that a second time." She answered brokenly at a near whisper. Her eyes looked to him but for a split second before turning sharply to the wall opposite him.
RE: the higher I climb the farther I fall - Reuben Crouch - February 3, 2021
It was hard to watch her from across the room. There was only six feet between them, but it might as well have been an ocean. His insides tugged towards her, wanting to comfort her, wanting to touch her. He was a physical person by nature and he felt frankly impotent trying to have a conversation like this from so far away.
On the other hand, Art's directive on the subject could not have been any clearer. Don't fuck her until you know for sure. At the time Ben had thought there was no chance he'd ever want to be intimate with her again, but it wasn't out of the realm of possibility, now. If he moved to comfort her, to hold her, and she nudged things in that direction... he probably wouldn't have stopped her, even after everything that had happened over the past two days.
Ben shot a quick, guilty look towards the front door. He was already letting Art down. He couldn't throw all his advice away, too, even if Ben personally believed wholeheartedly that there really was a baby.
"That's all I thought of, when she told me," he admitted. "I was — terrified. I thought you might've felt like you didn't have any other options. I thought... I thought you weren't even going to tell me. Because you wouldn't want to —" his throat was so dry, and his voice was noticeably hoarse as he concluded quietly, "— trap me."
RE: the higher I climb the farther I fall - Melody Crouch - February 3, 2021
Ben's fear just went to further prove how neither of them knew one another as a spouse ought to. When he thought of her, all he saw was impulsive nefarious decisions. And, in many ways, he was right to be so fearful. She had taken the first potion, after all, nearly without telling him as well. But, had they spoken of their feelings towards it even once since then Melody might've expressed her regret. He might have been reassured that any future pregnancies wouldn't meet the same end.
Melody could've laughed if she wasn't so near to breaking down in the fit of sobs she steadily resisted since yesterday. Ben finally seemingly understood her reasoning behind pushing for the divorce both last February and this past December, only to use it as a rationale against her. Melody shook her head again and sighed. Obviously, he knew and, obviously, she hadn't acted as he anticipated.
"I would have when I saw you next. If you still chose to leave then I wouldn't have stopped you," she said simply. Addressing any of his statement further would only deal the final blow to her crumbling resolve to not cry.
RE: the higher I climb the farther I fall - Reuben Crouch - February 3, 2021
"I'm not leaving," Ben said, immediately and firmly. He had missed out on at least a year of Elliott's life before he'd known the boy existed, and was never going to be able to know him in the way Ben desperately wanted to. Even if Melody allowed him to do as he pleased in that regard, it was hardly as though Ben could see him with any sort of regularity for long before someone started asking questions, whether that someone was one of Eliott's family members or a random observer from society or even Elliott himself, when he was older. And, of course, they'd already lost the first baby entirely. Ben had no intention of letting another child of his grow up without him.
After he'd said it, however, bits of his conversation with Art floated back to him. Art thought Ben should divorce her — that she was unpredictable. At the time Ben had jumped on the idea because he fully believed she was capable of taking another potion without telling him, and it was a very small logical leap from there to what Art had suggested: that she could not be trusted with his child. Now that he knew she hadn't gone looking for a potion, though (or at least, she said she hadn't), the idea of trying to divorce her made him distinctly uncomfortable. He knew the way he'd felt when he'd read the letters about Elliott and suspected he'd never have the chance to really know him. He couldn't inflict that on someone else, even on — especially on Melody.
No, divorce was off the table, as far as Ben was concerned. Unless it turned out she'd been lying about the pregnancy to get him home again, but Ben really didn't think that was possible. He'd seen her acting skills at work over the past year; she wasn't a good enough actress to fake this kind of hurt.
But that didn't mean they could keep on as they had been. She couldn't live in such constant fear that she kept her bags packed and ready to go. Ben couldn't be so paranoid that he burnt letters from his friends. This is not normal, you are not okay. Something had to change, but after so long and so many failed attempts Ben didn't know what.
"Unless," he finally said, voice small again. "You'd rather I did."
RE: the higher I climb the farther I fall - Melody Crouch - February 3, 2021
"No." Melody immediately responded. Even when they were on the brink of divorce she had made it plain it wasn't the choice she would select. Despite the unhappiness that plagued their marriage, she was safe here (most of the time, anyway). Melody only wanted for him to be happy, and if it wasn't with her then so be it. She knew better now than to ever expect him to be loving towards her again.
Had he ever been loving towards her? Would anyone ever love her?
It didn't matter, she supposed. This was the life she chose.
"No. I don't want you to go. But, Ben, I don't want you to be so miserable with me you can't enjoy life, either." She added with a shuddering sigh. His expression at the quidditch party was never far from her thoughts.
RE: the higher I climb the farther I fall - Reuben Crouch - February 3, 2021
"No," he agreed simply. "I can't do that anymore."
He didn't mean to blame her, necessarily. It was all connected to her but he wasn't sure it was her fault. When Art had been talking to him last week and said he should be able to go places and do things without feeling as though he had to make excuses to Melody, it wasn't as though he had any evidence he could produce that really proved she'd forced him into that. She wasn't waiting for him every time he flooed home, and she didn't pester him about every time he left the house. It was more of a feeling he got — that if he did anything she didn't like, she'd know, and he'd be in trouble. A feeling that had proved not too far from the truth, at least in terms of trying to keep Elliott from her. Had Melody started that, somehow? Had she done something, prior to going through his letters, to validate how paranoid he was about her?
If he wanted to blame that feeling on her, it meant that he also had to accept responsibility for her never unpacking her bags. He'd never given her cause to think he would leave (actually leave, not just go to Aldous or Art for a few hours), so he resisted that idea vehemently. She'd come up with that herself, he thought, and she was projecting her feelings onto him. She was insecure, and she perceived their marriage to be insecure, even when he had no thoughts of walking out the door.
If she was projecting her insecurity, though, what was he projecting? Where did the paranoia come from? He had to admit that it wasn't the first time in his life that he'd felt that way. His six months in Canada had been hell in that regard; he'd always been looking over his shoulder, always worried that something he said or did would get back to his brother and prolong his exile. He hadn't slept around or gambled or done anything illegal that whole time — he'd hardly even drank. Trying to prove to everyone else that he was better, when really he had no desire to be better.
He sighed. "I don't know," he admitted, putting one hand on his head to rub his temples in frustration and exhaustion. This all circled back to the same thing he'd said before Christmas, didn't it? He didn't feel like he was cut out to be a husband. He was faking it, and failing, and it was exhausting. But where did that leave them?
"I don't know," he said again, wishing he had a drink.
RE: the higher I climb the farther I fall - Melody Crouch - February 3, 2021
Another silence enveloped them. The road ahead was obscured by fog, for every choice that might afford them happiness came at the price of their child. They couldn't divorce without a scandal so large it would follow the baby forever and they couldn't continue their happily married performance a second longer. But, what did that leave other than two souls coexisting miserably in a house together? They would consume one another's souls like a dementor attack, sucking it out until there was nothing but hollow shells remaining.
Melody stared down at her lap and bit the inside of her lip sharply to keep the tears at bay. Not having an answer tonight was even more frightening than the thought of him leaving, never to return. She couldn't remain as she was, living from packed trunks with constant anxiety. She would rather be destitute, for at least then she would know.
When the answer finally came to her minutes had to have passed. Long, excruciating minutes that would prove to be the private end of their marriage. "You don't want me," she sniffled, unable to stop herself this time. How terrible it was to feel so hated. "So we remain married in name only. No more pretending, no more lies."
RE: the higher I climb the farther I fall - Reuben Crouch - February 3, 2021
Her long silence gave Ben a chance to ruminate on his private dilemma. He'd told Art that Melody wasn't a trusting person by nature — was that true? Or was it him that had an inability to trust, and he'd translated that into all of these restrictions he'd placed on himself, smothering himself to prevent her from having anything to uncover? He'd been so good for the past year — no wild nights, no drunken gambles, no flirting with other women aside from what he couldn't help, what was just part of his personality — and so miserable. Melody hadn't ever explicitly asked any of that from him, but she didn't have to. That was what it meant to be a husband, Ben thought. To have responsibilities to someone beyond himself, and he had never asked for that. It had been imposed on him, like his exile to Canada. That was the crux of it, he realized, not trust at all. He did trust her. Even after she'd tricked him into marriage, even after she'd taken the potion in Paris, even after she'd gone through all of his things, he still trusted her. When she said she was pregnant, he believed her; when she said she wouldn't take a potion, he believed that, too. He trusted her. He cared about her. He might have even loved her, deep down, beneath everything — but he hated being her husband.
When she spoke he stiffened slightly. Her words could have been taken a few different ways. Maybe what she was suggesting was the same thing Aldous had suggested last night, which less than twenty-four hours ago had seemed like such a godsend. Now, the idea of leaving her alone in this house and trying to live his own life somewhere else seemed like something from another reality. Someone could have taken that path, and maybe it would have worked out for the best, but he couldn't do that. Staying here, though, and living in the same house as her but remaining married in name only, as she put it, didn't seem like a dramatically better option. He'd be able to see the progress of her pregnancy, and to see his child, when they were born, but living so close to her and being so far... he was not sure that she could do that, first of all, and maybe he couldn't, either.
"I do want you," he protested weakly. It was true, but he didn't know how much it mattered, in the scheme of things. "And I want to be a father."
RE: the higher I climb the farther I fall - Melody Crouch - February 3, 2021
"Do you truly believe that?" Melody asked. If Ben wanted her, he wouldn't have felt like they were in one big charade. He would've found ways to settle into their marriage as she had. The last year wouldn't have been so bloody difficult if he had ever wanted to be there. But, he didn't. He wanted out, a do over, a time turner. Anything to go back and hit reset.
Truthfully, so did she.
Melody fidgeted with her hands before looking up at him with watery eyes. "I would never stop you from being a father to our child. We can ... we can come to some kind of arrangement. Something that makes this situation tolerable." Already, Melody was envisioning Ben bringing another woman into their home — into his bed, a bed she hadn't ever shared. "You haven't been happy with me this past year ... a baby ... a baby won't change that." She reached over to where her handkerchief was discarded after her earlier episode and used it to dab at her eyes. So much for not crying.
RE: the higher I climb the farther I fall - Reuben Crouch - February 3, 2021
Ben didn't answer her question, because he didn't know. He felt it was true, but he recognized that what they were doing was unsustainable. And she had every reason to doubt the sentiment, after how he'd behaved over the past year. They'd had a few tolerable weeks, scattered throughout, but every time they'd fought it had come back to the same thing. She wanted this marriage: he didn't. Did it matter if he wanted her?
She was crying now, in a small and dignified way, not the way Ben had last night. His insides tugged again. She was so far away.
"Can... can I sit with you?" he asked, truly unsure what she would say.
RE: the higher I climb the farther I fall - Melody Crouch - February 3, 2021
A thick lump formed in her throat. She wanted to be held, to lean against him and take comfort in her husband. But that was just it: Ben didn't want to fill those shoes, and he never had. A small cry, a whimper really, escaped her as she fought the onslaught of heartbreak.
Ben was too good a man to leave her the way she was asking him to. So, as it always seemed to be, it was up to her to make the dramatic decision. To once again force them down an unknown path.
Melody shook her head no.
RE: the higher I climb the farther I fall - Reuben Crouch - February 3, 2021
Ben knew he had no right to touch her after everything he'd done over the past two days, which was why he'd asked in the first place instead of just walking over there and pulling her into his arms. Still, her refusal hurt. He wanted to hold her. He wanted to fix things — you can't fix this, the small voice told him, you don't know how. He wanted Melody to stop hurting, to be happy (you can't make her happy, you knew that, you've always known that). He wanted to turn back the clock to early January, when they'd forgiven each other and there was some hope that they could have started over. He wanted them to be okay (you won't ever be okay).
He pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs, as though pulling himself into a ball could tamp down the feeling of loss in his chest that was so big it threatened to spill out in every direction. He wanted a child, but somehow the news that he would soon have one had made everything so, so much worse.
RE: the higher I climb the farther I fall - Melody Crouch - February 3, 2021
This was it, then.
"I - I'll be in my room." She managed in a shaking voice. She could break their hearts, she could learn to live with this new version of their marriage, but she couldn't sit across from him a second longer without crumbling entirely. They had gone down this road before, after all. He would comfort her, she would lean into him, and then, seemingly suddenly, they would be in the afterglow of sex.
If this was to work, if they were to learn to exist within these new boundaries, they couldn't have sex again. It was the only way she would be able to survive it.
Standing, Melody motioned for Gus to stay where he was and made to walk across the room towards the stairs. The puppy would be able to provide the comfort Melody no longer could.
RE: the higher I climb the farther I fall - Reuben Crouch - February 3, 2021
He should have let her go. They were both feeling miserable, and the two of them had only ever had one way to comfort each other, which was off the table now. Still, as she stood he couldn't help but try to stop her.
"Wait," he said, uncurling his legs and moving to the edge of the sofa, ready to go after her if she continued upstairs. "We should — there are thing we should talk about."