TWENTY-NINE
Elton
She had tiny hands. Tiny little hands that grasped on to me so tightly, my skin blanched. Her piercing wails were so loud they could have woken the dead. I remember her eyes, her innocent eyes exploring the new world around her.
I knew in those moments I would do anything to make sure she was happy and safe.
The day I walked into MJ’s house and my heart dropped at the site of the mess and dire living situation, I swore I would never abandon Neive again.
I swore I would protect her and care for her.
She’s such a good kid; so kind and thoughtful.
Reilly’s amenable demeanour blindsided me.
I allowed myself to become distracted from my life purpose.
Convinced myself I could take what I wanted.
If I had been at home, I would have been there.
I would have picked her up from the front door of her friend’s house and taken her home. Safe.
Instead, she was nearly in the hands of someone out to get something from me. Jeeves got to her and saved her but it should have been me, I’m responsible for her. She tells me she’s okay and she will recover but I don’t think I ever will.
“Elton, buddy, I’ve got this. Work can wait.
I’ll deal with it all,” Charles reassures me.
He’s flown back from New York and came straight here – immediately taking the reins so I can focus on organising for MJ to leave rehab early and come home to mine, permanently.
She needs to be around for Neive’s recovery.
I’m praying this won’t send her over the edge, but being away from Neive right now would be worse for everyone. With outside therapies and keeping an extra close eye on her, I think we can make it work.
Neive has spent today between the sofa and her bed, and MJ hasn’t left her side. Physically, she’s fine, but trauma can be exhausting.
I finished handing over everything I needed for Charles to take control of work for a few weeks.
He’s been filling me in on his meetings in New York and despite his protest I started to compile extra data to send back to the researchers.
I need something that’s not reliving the worst-case scenario. Or my last conversation with Reilly.
“Thanks for this, Charles. I owe you.” I make my way round my desk, taking a seat next to him on the sofa in my home office.
“You owe me nothing. Little Squirt means the world to me. That girl, you and MJ; you’re my family. I would do anything for you all.” The feeling is mutual. “Have you spoken to Reilly?” He asks sheepishly.
“No. I can’t focus on her right now. My family needs me.” I shut him down. I can’t even begin to work out how to approach this thing with Reilly.
“And who’s looking after you, Elton?”
“You are, my friend.” I clap him on the back and give him a smile in hopes he won’t see me breaking inside.
“You think you can’t have Reilly and still be there for MJ and Neive. But you can. Don’t push her away. You need her.”
MJ appears at my office door. She looks broken. Her eyes are red and swollen from crying. She says she feels guilty for not being there for Neive. We all do.
“We’ll see, mate. I’m going to spend time with Neive.” I get up and step towards MJ, wrapping my arm around her. “MJ, get some rest. Neive is fine. I’ll sit with her for a bit, watch a film and chill out.”
“Okay.” She gives me a soft smile and hugs me close. “Reilly’s here, she’s with Neive. I … I apologised to her. I shouldn’t have said that stuff,” she whispers, shaking her head.
“Even if some of it came from a place of truth?” I ask.
“Even so.” She shrugs, and Charles wraps his arm around her and tucks her into him on the sofa. Maybe she’ll get a couple of hours’ nap.
Reilly
Despite the chaos of the last forty-eight hours, Neive is in high spirits.
An event like this could crush a person, but Neive takes it all in her stride.
She told me she knew Jeeves would come, and that once she realised they were after money she also knew they wouldn’t really hurt her.
She labelled them far too unorganised to be “serious criminals”.
Honestly this girl, either too naive or too smart. I’m not sure which one it is.
“He hasn’t called you, has he?” She grabs my hands.
“That’s not for you to worry about, Neive. You focus on resting.”
“I heard what happened. Mum shouldn’t have said those things. They aren’t true.” I raise my eyebrows at her in question. “No part of this house is soundproof,” she confirms, I can attest to that. “Mum’s sorry.”
“I know, darling. She spoke to me and apologised. I don’t blame her. Her baby girl was hurt. She was scared and lashed out.” I stroke her hair affectionately.
“But what about Uncle Elton?” My heart skips at the sound of his name.
I blow out a breath. I can’t hide things from Neive. She’s too astute. She sees everything and needs to not be treated like a small child.
“Honestly, Neive, it’s in your uncle’s hands.”
I take her hand and give her a comforting squeeze. I don’t want her thinking about this stuff right now. I don’t want to be thinking about this stuff right now.
He’s shut me out since yesterday, and I will only give a certain amount of leeway, even given the circumstances.
When emotions are high, things can be said or not said, and actions taken don’t reflect what matters. It’s the aftermath that matters, and I won’t wait forever. He’s going to need to throw me a rope.
Footsteps come to a slow stop behind us.
I peer over my shoulder as casually as I can.
He looks withdrawn with stubble on his chin and his hair ruffled.
He clearly hasn’t slept much. I want to go to him, hold him and tell him everything will be okay.
But he needs to let me, and I’m sensing he won’t.
He says nothing as he walks to Neive and kisses her on the head, avoiding all eye contact with me. Actions speak a thousand words, and right now his actions are screaming that he doesn’t want me here.
“I should go,” I announce, grabbing my bag and tidying the notebook I brought with me to show Neive cake ideas.
“That’s probably for the best,” Elton says emotionlessly. Pain stabs through my heart. He is cold and distant, and he won’t meet my eye. He’s taking the coward’s way out. I stand from the couch, slowly. Giving him every opportunity to ask me to stay.
“No, Reilly, don’t go. Uncle Elton doesn’t mean that,” Neive pleads. I look back at him, begging him to tell me he’s acting out and he’s sorry. His eyes remain on Neive’s head as he strokes her hair, his lips tight, refusing to acknowledge me.
“It’s fine, Neive. I’ve got to pick up Chip. I’ll text you, okay. Feel better.” I kiss her forehead. I’m standing opposite him now. He can’t avoid me. Look at me, Elton, look at me. Give me something, anything.
But he doesn’t, and I have my answer. This is over.
A deep ache settles inside me and the last slither of hope burns out.
I head through the hall, towards the door as Neive says, “You’re a fucking idiot, Elton.”
“This doesn’t concern you, Neive.” He is soft with his voice, but his words are strained. I can’t let him do this to me. I haven’t done anything to deserve this treatment.
I close my eyes, fist my hands and pull in every bit of strength I’ve got through one long breath, before blowing it out and finding my big girl knickers.
“Elton. Can I have a word, please?” I remain calm and conscious with my movements as I make my way to the front door and wait, anxiety bubbling inside of me.
Eventually he follows, his footsteps slow and hesitant.
We are far enough away from the lounge for privacy but – as we know from the other night – the voices carry in this house. So I keep my voice low.
“I know this isn’t the ideal time, Elton, but if I don’t say this now, I have a feeling I won’t be getting another chance.
” His lack of response tells me I’m right.
“I did as you asked. I gave us a chance and now you’re throwing it away.
You’re ending this with me without even saying anything.
If I was as callous as you, I would be impressed.
Who knew you could ghost someone right to their face?
” He winces, but still refuses to meet my eyes.
“I have done nothing except try to be there for you and you’re pushing me away.
You need to fix yourself. I’m not your therapist, Elton.
I’m meant to be your girlfriend. You wanted me to live with you, for Christ’s sake.
” My eyes ache as I hold back the tears.
I refuse to allow them to fall. “Are you going to say anything?”
“I have to focus on my family right now, Reilly,” he croaks out his pitiful excuse.
“Right now or forever?” I purse my lips, waiting for his answer, my heart beating into my throat.
His dull eyes and chaotic hair pull at me.
He’s hurting. So badly hurting. I soften my voice.
“You don’t have to do this alone, Elton.
” But when I reach my hand forward and he flinches back, I have my answer.
“So this is it? We’re over.” He averts his gaze, looking off to the side. “I knew it was too good to be true.”
His eyes flick to me before moving up to burn a hole in a spot above my head. Coward.
So I leave, knowing this relationship is over. There is no coming back from this. I won’t hang around for him to get himself together only to be thrown aside when the next disaster strikes.
“I’m sorry, Reilly.” It’s barely a whisper, but I hear it. His goodbye words. His words that end this whirlwind love affair.
The man I fell for is gone. I won’t stick around for him to find his way back.