17
CHRISTMAS AT IVY’S
Christmas day had arrived, both excitement and anxiety equally matched. I loved Ivy, Jude and her parents so much that I couldn’t wait, they were a second family to me. Today I needed to put on the best performance of my life, to pretend everything was okay. I made my way to Ivy’s in the morning to help her in the kitchen.
I was also super excited to see the new house, it was finally finished. They had been slowly moving in the last couple of weeks but officially moved in together yesterday when Jude came home. It was a cosy modern cottage. Okay, bigger than a cottage, but the exterior looked like a cottage with its stoney walls, featuring a massive garden and summer house behind, that would be so beautiful to raise a family. Wooden beams along the ceilings gave the whole place a rustic feel. In the kitchen, a big floor length window overlooked the grounds, a lot of space for children to run around. Green stretched as far as the eye could see before it met a tall hedge that shielded it from passersby.
It was perfect; everything that fit Ivy and her personality in a house. Open, warm, cosy and bright. It was on the edge of the city but still accessible by train, which they agreed they would take to work as it was quicker than driving.
Interrupting Ivy and I deep in our wedding discussions, Nate wandered into the kitchen, his eyes landing on me as I chopped the vegetables under Ivy’s instructions. A warm friendly smile crossed his face before he shifted his attention to Ivy.
“Need help?” He offered, stalking over to me to steal a piece of carrot, popping it in his mouth, but not before placing a gentle hand on my lower back, just for a couple seconds. A small sign of affection, like he needed the physical touch to soothe himself, to soothe me. My heart fluttered at the sensation. Ivy had her back to us as she drained the potatoes in the sink, ready to add to the goose fat lined tray; her perfect homemade roasties.
“Erm… I think we’ve got this.” Ivy spun around as Nate stepped away from me and towards her to look over her shoulder at the steaming fluffy potatoes. He handed her some spices she had on the side. I swallowed the lump in my throat and tried to refocus on the vegetables.
A trivial sigh escaped me, in relief that she had rejected his help so he could disappear, or so I would have hoped.
“Actually, can you make Mum’s honey glaze for the carrots and parsnips? You make it so much better than me,” she pouted as she finally shifted her attention from the potatoes to him. He accepted in a heartbeat and grabbed the ingredients from the cupboards as Ivy placed his tools on the counter opposite me.
I internally rolled my eyes. There was just no escape. Even subconsciously Ivy was pushing us together as if our destiny was inevitable. I made quick eye contact before continuing with the chopping. My mind was all over the place, seeing him made it hard for me to think straight. To make a decision I knew I would have to make soon. We hadn’t spoken since the Christmas market and I felt awkward inside. It felt like he was purposely trying to be in my bubble.
Cautiously, I studied him as he whipped up the famous glaze. He looked at home in the kitchen, another surprise I didn’t know. His strong hands worked the whisk, delicately combining the ingredients into a sticky consistency.
His Rolex hit the sunlight, illuminating it, drawing my attention back to the token I had possession of once upon a time, when all of this was simple. Oh, how I wish we could go back to simple.
He dipped his finger in the mixture bringing it up to his mouth for just a taste. Fuck. Just a taste. His words from a previous sexy encounter flashed back in my mind. My body heated up as I watched him moan at how delicious the sauce was. Knowing other times he'd had that reaction. I was trying to stay mad at him but it was becoming a losing battle.
My breathing picked up as I thought back to that first time, I was drawn to the man in front of me, before feelings made things complicated. I felt like my body was on fire, heating up to the point I couldn’t cool down, the events in my mind causing me to fluster. I tried to blank it from my mind and focus on the job I had been delegated, to push Nate to the back of my mind. I was the one who had called for space, to pause this. Which means it was my call if I wanted to start it up again. Did I? I shouldn’t even be thinking about this now. I needed to focus on Christmas, on Ivy, on something other than him but how could I when he was right in front of me…
“Ouch!” I jumped back startled, a red line started to peak to the surface of my skin before pouring out thick red liquid. Nate's eyes widened with alarm, Ivy oblivious as she focused on the trio of meat she was glazing; Turkey, Gammon and Beef.
I pushed my way to the sink to inspect the small incision, wincing at the pain as the water hit the wound. My other hand balanced me on the sink as I tried to ignore the blood-stained water running down the drain. Nate dropped everything, rushing to my side before instructing Ivy to grab the first aid kit.
“Shit, Gi are you okay?” She asked, placing the hot tray back in the oven, before snatching the first aid kit from the top of the fridge and coming to the sink to peek.
“It's just a nip, it's fine,” I smiled as I nodded for her to carry on. No need to worry. I tried to keep myself composed and upright, feeling queasy at the sight of the blood. Nate stepped to my side, opening the first aid kit on the draining board, unpacking the contents, trying to find a plaster. I watched as his hands fumbled as he gently took my wrist, the wrist with his bracelet still in place. I hadn’t taken it off since he put it on. His eyes met mine in admiration before he placed some paper towels over the cut.
“I can do it,” I said softly, trying to pull away from his touch.
“Let me,” he said in a subtly dominant tone that I knew not to argue with. I didn’t want to cause a scene. My breathing hitched after his eyes dropped to inspect the cut. I watched him concentrate as he dabbed the wound assessing the depth. The nausea subsided as I focused on him, he somehow kept me grounded.
“Nate has always been good at first aid. He wanted to be a doctor,” Ivy chimed at the memory. “He always had to bandage my cuts and bruises but also his own after the number of fights he got in.” Nate laughed sarcastically at her dig, not taking his eyes off my finger.
“Blood makes me squeamish,” I sighed, seeing a bit of the red liquid squirt out. The colour drained from my skin and the nausea returned. Nate fixed the plaster on as quick as he could, noticing my complexion and sensing the threat of my legs buckling under me any second, like a black fog was going to overtake me. Ivy danced out the room to set the table while Nate fixed me up.
“There…good as new,” he smiled, kissing the plaster. He guided me to the kitchen island to take a seat as he fixed a glass of water. I didn't protest, I didn’t have the strength, I just prayed I wasn’t going to embarrass myself and pass out. My head began to spin, I took some deep breaths, closing my eyes until I felt fine. Nate’s hand rested on my lower back, his eyes full of worry, full of…something.
Nate taking care of me made my heart flutter. Maybe I wasn’t reading too much into this.
Thank you,” I whispered, “so you wanted to be a doctor?” I tried to focus on anything else but the butterflies and nausea.
“For a while, yeah,” he chuckled, running his hands through his hair, seemingly embarrassed by his confession, like it was something to be ashamed of, "but my Dad wanted me to be a lawyer. So, here we are.” He shrugged as if the memory was painful.
There was something underlying there and maybe that’s what caused the awkward rift between them.
“So…You got into a lot of fights?” I asked amused, trying to lighten the conversation. It did the opposite. His eyes darkened as he gripped the kitchen counter at my question. Not wanting to look at me, his knuckles turned white and I felt as if I had crossed a line. I watched him trying to work out if he was going to answer or hide from me. He swallowed the lump in his throat before turning away from me to continue whisking his mixture, a lot more frustrated than before, despite it not needing anymore mixing. Like he was avoiding something. Ivy came in, taking my attention away from Nate.
“A lot,” Ivy admitted, answering my question that she’d clearly overheard, “but they weren't his fault,” she added quickly.
“Ivy!” He scolded his sister as he threw the bowl down and stormed outside into the open grounds. Ivy apologised that I had to witness his outburst. I shrugged it off as if it was nothing.
I helped her grab glasses from the cupboard, eying Nate out the corner of my eye as he paced the garden, anger consuming him, guilt and shame creeping up on him too.
“Nate's been through a lot, he’s not a bad person, just deeply troubled,” she justified his outburst. “Anyway, Jude should be back with my parents soon.” She smiled softly, trying to change the subject as I watched Nate out the kitchen window calm himself down before he returned inside.
The food was incredible, Ivy had sat me between Nate and his Dad. Another sign from the damn universe. The tension between the two of them made me feel awkward and it added to my already existing anxiety. Carol was the other side of Nate and the opposite end of the table to Mark. Ivy was opposite me, Jude beside her. Carol gave so much attention to Nate that it was obvious it had been a while since he had spent Christmas with them. I knew there was more to the story but after asking about the fights earlier it was better to leave it be.
I was faced with the reality that in fact I knew nothing about Nate, only surface shit but none of the deep stuff. So how could I have all these feelings when I didn’t really know who I was having feelings for?
Jude and Ivy had small intimate conversations, looking as loved up as the first day they fell in love. Mark was silent, drinking his wine and watching his wife and daughter with so much pride. But when his attention was on Nate it was emotionless, resentful and unrecognisable.
“So, Gi, how are things with you?” Carol asked as she cut her potato, after finishing her conversation with Nate.
“Yeah, all good, thank you. Work’s been busy,” I replied, taking the mouthful of food off my fork.
“And dating, anything new?” She pried, my heart leapt in my chest.
“No, nothing new,” I smiled softly, keeping it brief. I didn’t technically lie; Nate and I weren’t dating, he made that completely clear a couple days ago. Nate’s hand made its way to my thigh under the table, taking me by surprise, I had to stop myself from reacting. I looked towards Ivy who was smirking at me like she knew something.
“I wouldn't say nothing new.” Ivy chucked, lifting the glass of wine to her lips testing me. Nate's hand squeezed harder; I cleared my throat as I felt his hand tighten, turning to stone. The feeling of jealousy radiating off him.
My breathing felt a little unstable with the topic of conversation but also from Nate’s touch. It was becoming overwhelming. Carol looked between Ivy and me waiting for one of us to break.
“I'm just saying, I came to yours a couple weeks ago and you had…company,” Ivy chimed, her eyes not leaving my face, trying to intimidate me before she raised her hand in defence. Jude smirked, looking in my direction and I rolled my eyes. Carol looked interested. Nate’s hand relaxed as he realised Ivy was talking about him and not someone else. Like I would even have the time to see someone else when I spend most of my free time with him, and at work the other part of my days.
He slowly traced circles on my bare skin under the hem of my dress. This was a bold move on Nate’s part to touch me under the table with his family present, less possessive but rather more of a reassurance for himself.
“Ivy, it was a one-time thing. I’m not dating. If I was, you would be the first to know.” I felt a little uncomfortable and agitated that this was becoming every conversation with everyone, that my worth seemed to be determined by my dating life. I also felt bad for partially lying to my best friend. She knew I was hiding something. Nausea consumed me and I was finished with my food so I excused myself to use the bathroom. I needed to compose myself, to take back control, to remove this sick feeling in my stomach before returning to the group, hoping the conversation had changed.
When I came back to the table, the atmosphere had shifted. It felt more awkward and I wondered what I had walked into. Ivy’s eyes met mine, Jude had his arm around her. Mark’s expression towards Nate was not welcoming. I was the buffer between them and with me leaving the room there was nothing to stop them from fighting. I took my seat, not sure what I was putting myself in the middle of.
Nate looked uncomfortable, visibly tense and Mark looked hostile. He whispered something under his breath catching Nate's attention and so it began.
“Dad, please.” Ivy said softly, on the verge of tears, as if she knew something was about to happen. Like this was the usual set up that stopped Nate from spending time with them. Worry filled her eyes as she looked between the two of them. I didn’t know how deep this rift ran, but I was about to find out.
“What's your problem, old man?” Nate said, throwing his cutlery down on the plate, his eyes not breaking his gaze from his Dad.
“You know the problem, boy!” His Dad gritted his teeth before taking another sip of his alcohol.
“Mark. Stop.” Carol scolded, fear in her voice. Jude pulled Ivy closer and I kept quiet not wanting to get involved in this.
“No, it's okay Mum. I want to hear what he has to say. The reason why I can't be around my family,” he addressed her, softly placing a hand on hers before addressing his dad. Reality hit me, I was beginning to see more, this perfect family front I had seen was just like my own family. Picture perfect on the outside and deeply wounded and dysfunctional behind closed doors.
My heart broke as I watched the interaction between him and his father, anger overtaking him.
“Always the disappointment!” his Dad spat, pushing for a response.
Nate fought for control to keep his cool but ended up losing it. I could feel the blood boiling beneath the surface.
“Fuck you!” He shouted, banging his hand on the table, startling me. Despite seeing Nate angry before, when he had been mad at me that morning Ivy almost caught us and I called his bullshit, this was another level. Anger laced with years of pain.
“There's the real Nate! None of this fake shit in front of your Mum and sister.” His Dad looked amused that Nate had given into him. Mark was trying to assert his dominance in the household. Ivy let a tear slip as she watched the battle unfold between them. Carol was glaring daggers at Mark, who continued.
"You think you're the shit with your luxury job, luxury apartment, luxury car. But you disappear and reappear when it suits you. I’m sick of this fake Nate, when really you are just a powerless waste of space,” his Dad spat. “The shit I've had to bail you out of over the years and yet you have no respect for me."
My heart broke, watching the hurt creep over Nate’s face, like he was a scared little boy, the mask had slipped just enough for me to see. He took a breath, composing himself, throwing a split-second glance towards me before looking around at Ivy, who was snuggled into Jude’s side now crying, his mum’s tears and anger on the surface.
I truly felt alone in this situation. I wanted to reach out and comfort him but that would give everything away. This wasn’t my business.
“Respect is earned, father,” he growled, a little breathy, his knuckles balling into fists.
“Damn right it is. You’re a spoiled, selfish bastard, Nate.” His father’s words stung me, so I couldn’t begin to imagine how they made Nate feel. The words rang in my head. You're a real selfish bastard, Nate. My exact words, very similar to the words his Dad used now.
How often did this situation occur? The harsh words directed at him? Is this why Nate never spent time with his family, why Ivy hadn’t mentioned him before? This was the reason why Nate reacted the way he did towards me that day, this was a trigger for him. I froze in place, now knowing why he got angry, I had become his Dad in that situation. I hurt him, really hurt him.
“Fuck you! You’re a bitter old man. Mum and Ivy deserve so much better than you.” Nate pushed away from the table, throwing his napkin down, before grabbing his jacket and leaving. Dinner was over. Silence filled the room except for the sound of Ivy crying into Jude, completely broken by the situation we were in. Did she witness this as a child?
“I should go,” I whispered, wanting to leave them to deal with the aftermath. “Thank you for dinner.” I cleared my throat, grabbing my things quickly and left the house not wanting to look back.
I pulled my jacket on as I walked round the block to my car. Nate was standing by his car, he hadn’t left yet. This was a sign. “Nate,” I said softly, approaching him cautiously. Placing an arm on his to reassure him, surprised when he let me.
“Don't, Gi,” his voice calm and controlled but anger still present in his eyes. My eyes glazed over as I studied him, not sure what to say. I wanted to pull him close, but my gut was telling me not to. I couldn’t even begin to understand what that was back at the house, let alone what to say or do to help him.
What did Nate need? He’d handled my situation with Brie so well. And now it was my turn to do the same.
“Nate… that wasn't your fault,” I said gently.
“Gi, you don't know me,” he said, coldly, his icy tone matching the chilly winter air around us. He was fighting back tears, gritting his teeth. He stared right through me. “Just go home…please".”
“You're right, I may not know you, not fully. But that wasn't you. Okay?” Hesitating, I placed my hand on his cheek, and for a miniscule moment he leaned into my touch and eased but when he noticed his mask slip, a flip switched inside him. He pushed my hand away, laughing through his anger.
“That was me, that's who I am Gi! So, stop trying to make me out to be this… this perfect man. You need to stop acting like this…” he pointed to the closeness between us “...like we are a couple. We aren't and we never will be.”
His words stung and, just before this moment, I thought I had made my choice, about wanting to give this time, hoping Nate would want to make this something. But his response was crystal clear. Another reminder from him that this would never be anything more, the hope ripped out of my chest.
“I’ve let this go on for too long,” he admitted. “I wish I’d never made this go further. It should have stayed as a one off. This was a mistake.” And there it was. A tear slipped down my cheek and I nodded. Now I was being the cold one in response.
“I agree. I’m done.” I confessed. I was tired of fighting him, fighting for something he clearly didn’t want. I needed to move on. Relief washed over me, like a dark cloud shifting. I swallowed the pain in my chest. His eyes met mine, hard as stone, but with a hint of regret. I turned my back on him and drove home.