Chapter 46
Chris
I’m sat on the sofa with my hands wrapped around a cup of tea, under the watchful eye of Martin, who’s sitting on the coffee table in front of me.
“You’re sure you don’t want to come with us?”
“I’m tired, it’s been a really long day.”
“Maybe it’ll distract you?”
“I’d rather stay at home.”
“Do you want us to bring you back something to eat?”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Mmm…”
“Don’t start, Martin.”
“I’m worried about you. You’ve just been sat there on the sofa since I got here, listening to this depressing music. You’re even drinking tea…come on!”
“What’s weird about that?”
“You never drink that stuff. Especially not in the evenings like this. I was expecting to find you already on your second or third glass of wine.”
“I’m not an alcoholic.”
“Sometimes I seriously doubt that.”
“I’m ready!” Evan comes pounding down the stairs and appears in the living room. “Let’s go.”
Martin gets up, but not before shooting me another glance.
“You’re sure you’re okay?” he asks, serious.
“Just go! And don’t bring him back too late, he has school tomorrow.”
“Should we really be leaving her alone?” Evan asks, getting way too serious as well.
“Oh, come on! Can’t you both just leave me in peace?”
Evan raises his hands and heads towards the front door. “I’ll wait for you outside,” he says to his father, leaving us alone.
Martin comes over and sits down next to me.
“What happened?”
“Nothing, Martin. I told you, I’m just tired. Actually, I think I’m going to go to bed right now. A bit of rest will do me good.”
“So it’s nothing to do with angel face?”
I glare sharply at him.
“Okay, I get it…”
I shake my head. “You don’t get it.”
“Well, judging by his face, and his muscles, and the way he always looks at you like he’s about to jump at your throat, it doesn’t surprise me that he’s been acting like a bastard.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’re right, I don’t know. And you know why? Because you haven’t told me anything. And it’s not like you.”
“I don’t have to run everything I do past you.”
“No, you don’t – but you usually do. We’ve always had such a good bond, so open and trusting. I tell you everything about my life and you do the same. But this time it’s different.”
“Only because there’s nothing worth talking about.”
“I actually think that there’s a lot to talk about. But, for some strange reason, you don’t want to.”
“Your imagination’s getting a bit out of hand.”
“No, honey. I’m worried. You’ve been distant, you’ve shut yourself off. You’re down, and you never normally are.”
“It’s just one evening, okay? I’ll be fine again by tomorrow,” I say, getting up and pushing him towards the door. I just want to be by myself, to bury myself in blankets and wallow in my own regrets. “Go on, Evan’s waiting for you.”
I open the door and he steps outside. His gaze is suddenly kind, and he wraps his arms around me. I let Martin hold me once again, even though I know it isn’t healthy – not for him, or me, or Evan. But Martin is the only man that has stayed in my life – even though it isn’t in the way I’d hoped.
He slowly lets me go and strokes my cheek.
“I don’t like seeing you like this.”
“And I don’t like feeling like this, but I can’t do anything about it.”
“Will it go away?” he asks, smiling.
I nod.
“You know you can always call me, for anything. I’m here for you, you know that.”
He hugs me again, and this time I feel myself crumble a little in his arms. I almost want to ask him to stay, to hold me close through the night, to console me and tell me that I won’t be alone forever.
That, sooner or later, there’ll be someone out there for me.
But it would be wrong, and I really need to let him go – in every sense, once and for all.
I need to think of my son, of my family, of the café.
All the concrete things in my life, the real things that make up my day-to-day, that will always be there – unlike someone who takes your hand then lets it drop.
“Go,” I say, pulling away from Martin, “Or you’ll miss the booking.”
“I’ll bring you something back, okay?”
I smile gratefully as he lightly kisses me, walks away and slides into the car.
He switches on the ignition and backs out of my driveway.
I watch them leave and sigh, resigned to another lonely, empty evening listening to the silence in the walls, a song as depressing as my mood flowing in the background.
I go back inside and close the door, but something blocks it suddenly, swinging it back open in front of my eyes.
“So that’s what’s going on here?” he asks, his stare icy. “I turn my back for one second and he resurfaces?”
Ryan storms into my house, as I back away. He slams the door behind him, and in two strides has me pushed against the wall.
“What was he doing here?”
“Are you serious, Ryan?”
“No, I’m… I’m… Fuck!” He takes a step back, running his hand nervously through his hair. “I can’t stand the thought of him being here, hugging you. He kissed you, Christine!”
“You have no right to come here and spout all this bullshit!”
“No?”
“No,” I say, determinedly.
“We only slept together two days ago!”
“And one day ago, you were interested in someone else!”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Neither do you.”
“He’s Evan’s father, and God knows why he’s always here, ready to put his hands all over you.”
I push away from the wall and face him. “You have no hold over me. We’re nothing!”
“Nothing?” he leans in to me, menacing. “It didn’t seem like nothing when you were riding my—”
“Fuck you, Ryan! Are you a complete psycho?”
“Maybe you’re turning me into one.”
“Me? You’ve done it all by yourself. You showed up here, slithered into my bed. You left, then came back. You fed me a whole load of bullshit then all it took was one look at that woman and…”
He pushes me back against the wall, his hand leaning next to my head.
“I don’t want him to touch you again,” he growls.
“Well, that’s your problem, not mine.”
“Did you sleep with him again? For old time’s sake? A nice stroll down memory lane?”
“What? You’re… you’re…”
And then his hands are grabbing my face, his mouth pressing fiercely against mine. He forces my lips apart, biting down on them. His tongue suffocates me, his breath taking my own, his rage pinning me down.
His hands are in my hair, pulling me in towards him, pressing his marble body against mine. He sharply pulls away then, panting onto my lips, but holding me tight.
“I can’t accept it. You can’t be with him, not after you’ve been with me. You… you can’t do it, Christine.”
“I can do whatever I want,” I tell him, meeting his gaze. “I can sleep with whoever I like.”
“No,” he says, shaking his head. “Just me. No one else.”
“Fuck you, Ryan O’Connor!”
He tries to kiss me again, his body pressed against mine. He doesn't want to hear my words, he doesn't want to know what I think of him and of this huge mistake, but I won't give in to his anger, to his desperation. I will not be a part of all of this.
I push him away and look him in the eye.
“I hate you, O’Connor."
“I need this,” his voice quivering with pain. “I need not to have you. I need not to feel that’s hurting me inside.”
“Ryan…”
“You have to hate me, okay? I have to hurt you. It’s the only way I can avoid… loving you. To stop you from loving me.”
I feel empty. Completely.
That’s how I feel, after having traced every line of his skin, after he destroyed everything with just a few words. After he used me for exactly what he wanted, leaving me with an infinite emptiness.
Our breathing fills the silence, interrupted only by the music that is still playing in the living room. Music that I can’t hear, with my ears or with my soul – because the truth is that, now, I can’t hear anything. And this has never happened to me before.
With Ryan O’Connor, I erase myself, flick the switch, stop being me.
And I don’t like it.
I hate him.
I hate how he makes me feel. I hate his hands, his mouth, the way my body moves next to his. I hate the how full I feel when he’s inside me, and I hate the pain that I feel as soon as he leaves me.
I hate that my heart is shattering right now, when all that was left was to add a full stop to this whole thing. Resolute. Definitive.
You can’t go back to the beginning. You can’t change the paragraph, find a new chapter.
You can’t write a new story.
“This ends here,” I say in one breath. “It all ends here. Whatever this was… it has to end, Ryan. Now.”
His silence proves to me that he knows I’m right.
“It’s not healthy. Not for me.”
“Christine…”
“No,” I cut him off. “I get the final say tonight. I’m doing it for both of us. We… we’re not right. We’re not meant to be together.”
“I… I don’t know what came over me…”
“I can’t let you treat me like that. I can’t let anyone treat me like that.
And you’re no one to me now. No one can back me into a corner, push me against a wall and…
take away my happiness. It isn’t worth it, especially not for someone like you.
I don’t ever want to see you again, I never want to hear your name…
I don’t want anything to do with a bastard like you ever again.
I know you have your demons, but I’m sorry: I can’t fight them for you when you’ve already decided to shut me out, to let them eat you up.
I don’t want to fight. Not for anyone else.
I fight for myself every day, I can’t fight in your place. That’s why it has to end here.”
Ryan stands there, staring at me with frightened eyes. His cold, angry stare is gone – his strength is gone. He’s crumbled into his own emotions, I can see it, but I can’t do anything for him. The only person who can help him is Ryan O’Connor – but he doesn’t want to help himself.
He turns his back to me and, without a word, he opens the front door and slams it shut behind him.
I fall against the wall, dropping down to the floor.
Even though I can understand him, can see through his muscles and his anger, I can’t.
I can’t fight for something that doesn’t exist.
I can’t fight in his place.
I can’t fight against him.
It’s too late, for both of us.
It has to end. Tonight. Before it’s even begun.