Chapter 28
Chris
“I’m home.”
“Hey, where have you been? I’m hungry and I can’t decide what to order,” I stop dead in the doorway.
“I’ve brought a guest.”
“Hi, Chris…tine.”
“Er…I’m going to…do…well, I’ll leave you two alone.”
“Evan!” I scream after him, but he’s already scampered up the stairs.
“What are you doing here?” I say, crossing my arms.
Distance. Lots of distance. Maybe I should go upstairs, too, and speak to him from there.
“I bumped into Evan so…”
“You’re not welcome in this house.”
“I thought I might not be.”
“The door’s over there,” I say, pointing to it.
He takes a step forward, as I take two backwards.
“I’m sorry,” he says in one breath, as if he’d just let go of a huge weight.
“For what? For fucking me? For running away afterwards like a bastard? For treating me like a…?”
“For everything. I’m sorry about everything. Apart from…the first part. I’m not sorry about that at all.”
I feel myself flushing bright red, up to the ears.
“I didn’t go to the café for that. But then I saw you, and you’re so…” he breathes deeply. “You’re you, Christine. You’re just you.”
“I don’t get what you mean.”
“I don’t get it either.”
“What do you want from me, Ryan? What are you looking for? Another fuck? Because what happened yesterday will never happen again.”
“I’m not looking for anything in particular. But I never expected to find you.”
Oh wow. His words hit me, but no – I can’t let myself be swayed again. I need nerves of steel, I have to be tough, unwavering. Anyway, they don’t sound like real excuses – not even close. It’s all just a huge mistake. One that neither of us will forget.
“Well, I’m sorry that I came into your life,” I say, unable to hide the resentment in my voice. It isn’t easy to keep away tears that are threatening to strangle you.
“Me too.”
At least he’s honest, I’ll give him that. But sometimes honesty isn’t the right answer. I’d rather he’d lied. Even a white lie would’ve made me feel better, not made me feel ashamed for what happened.
“It’s just that I’m not very good at…I’m not a nice person. I’m not easy to be around. I’m always angry, I’m always a dick.”
“Yeah, I got that.”
“It’s easier for me to hate people. It’s the only way I know how to live.”
“Are you saying that you’re a man who can’t fall in love?”
“It isn’t part of me.”
“Just like eighty per cent of the male population then.”
“That’s probably true – even though I think you’ve exaggerated the percentage a little,” he says, trying to be light-hearted.
Seriously?
“It works differently for me. I hate everyone. No exceptions.”
“I’m not sure I get where you’re going with this.”
“It’s the first choice I make when I meet someone. It’s instinctive.”
“Has your family never thought of getting you help? Maybe sitting down with a psychologist would’ve worked?”
He chuckles, then smooths down his hair with a hand, his eyes piercing through mine. He doesn’t hide away like the other times. He looks at me – really looks at me – and I keep my heart firmly stifled down.
“You…you’re a woman I should hate, Christine. And I’m really trying. But that’s not like me. I don’t normally have to try – hate comes naturally to me, you know?”
“I’m not sure, but I think I’ll have to call 999 in a minute.”
He comes towards me, and I step back again.
“I want to try not to hate you.”
This conversation is taking a worrying turn.
“You could try forgiving me for being a fucking bastard.”
“What’s the point?” I shrug. “We’re not even friends, and I don’t think we ever will be.”
“I don’t think so either,” he says, a tired smile playing on his lips.
“I’ve ordered pizza,” Evan pipes up, wandering into the living room and cutting short our argument. “They’ll be here in ten minutes.”
“Okay, the money’s in my bag.”
“I got you a pizza too, Ryan.”
I turn suddenly towards him, glaring daggers.
“I thought you’d be staying for dinner.”
“Well, you thought wrong. Ryan was just leaving.”
“Thanks, Evan, but I don’t think I’ll stick around.”
“I’ve invited you.”
“Evan…”
“Come on, Mum. It’s just a pizza.”
I open my mouth to respond, but Ryan beats me to it.
“I’d like to stay, if that’s okay with you?”
I want him to go away. I never want to see him or his beautiful face again, so that I can stay in control.
I sigh defeatedly, and raise my hands in resignation.
Always strong, Chris. Well done.
“I’ll show you where the glasses and napkins are,” Evan tells him, a bit too happy – it’s starting to worry me.
Ryan follows him into the kitchen and helps him get the plates. He looks around, searching for something, and I immediately know what he wants. “We don’t have a table,” I say, embarrassed.
We actually do have one, but it’s buried under a pile of crap: documents, paperwork, anything else that we can’t find a home for, but that might be useful one day.
“We eat on the sofa, in front of the TV.”
Without commenting, he heads into the living room and helps Evan lay everything out on the coffee table, before trying to decide together what we should watch.
Evan wants a horror film, but Ryan doesn’t seem too keen.
He suggests an action film and Evan wrinkles his nose – he hates those Americanised shoot-outs, all inconsistent dialogue.
They chat, they laugh, they tease each other; and a strange thought that I shouldn’t listen to settles in my mind.
I sit down on the stool at the counter, watching them, and I hope…
but I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t let myself get carried away with these things.
I shouldn’t expect anything, because Ryan O’Connor is a cold-hearted bastard, and he’s told me exactly what he thinks of me. Even though he’s here, in my house with my son, that doesn’t mean anything.
This isn’t his place, and I’m not his.