Chapter 38 Melissa
Melissa
Damon doesn’t need to elaborate as to what he’s asking of her. But she isn’t going to make it easy for him. She wants him to spell it out. As if by hearing himself say it, he might suddenly understand that what he wants from her is cruel and unhinged.
‘You need my help doing what?’ she says.
‘You know . . . That.’
‘I don’t know,’ she replies. ‘Tell me.’
He looks around the room, exasperated, and lowers his voice. ‘I want you to . . . kill me again.’
‘No,’ she says, her expression a warning shot. This isn’t up for debate. If they are to remain friends, he should not try to persuade her otherwise. And if he can’t respect that, he should leave right now. But she fears Damon has lost perspective. He is too far down the rabbit hole.
‘Please,’ he says. ‘Think about it.’
‘What is there to think about?’ she asks. ‘No.’
Now it’s his turn to become defensive. ‘Why?’
Her laugh almost chokes her. ‘Do you really need me to answer that? Because you have died three times in the last few months and I’m the one who keeps bringing you back. Do you have any idea how fucking lucky you are?’
‘Yes, but—’
‘And how unfair you’re being? You should join me in the rig for a few days and see first-hand the terrible condition we find people in, through no fault of their own. Maybe that’ll be enough to slap some sense into you.’
‘I know what I’m asking isn’t easy . . .’
‘Ha! That’s the understatement of the decade. You cannot possibly imagine the pressure of holding somebody’s life in your hands.’
‘But you do it every day for work.’
‘That’s different. Most of my patients don’t want to die.’
She shakes her head. Is this really the same boy she befriended at high school, when he was living in a children’s home and she was a former army brat living off-base with her newly civilian parents?
They were unfamiliar faces amongst the crowds.
Others had already formed cliques and allegiances, but not them.
They were like the loners in the John Hughes films of the 1980s they’ve been watching recently as part of their movie challenge.
In fact, it was a movie they bonded over all those years ago, when she spotted the first Harry Potter novel poking out from his schoolbag.
That was the catalyst for years of friendship.
She has lost count of the number of firsts they shared.
A kiss, a prom date, alcohol, a spliff, gig, love, marriage, divorce, and now death.
‘I’m beginning to wonder if there’s more to this than even you realise,’ Melissa continues. ‘If you enjoy watching your life flashing by because of the familiarity it brings. Like seeing your mum again.’
‘No,’ he protests. ‘It’s not like that at all.’
But Melissa hasn’t finished. ‘Or is this a convenient distraction because you’re afraid of becoming a parent and the responsibility that’ll bring? Is that what this is really about?’
He puffs out his cheeks. ‘You are seriously doubting that I want to be a dad? That’s all I ever hoped for when we were together.’
This pricks her conscience. ‘You and I weren’t in the right place to start a family.’
‘It almost happened. But you didn’t want to try again.’
‘Okay, yes Damon, right you are. We all know it’s my fault,’ she shoots back. ‘But I wanted more than marriage and motherhood. The miscarriage was probably a blessing in disguise.’
It’s as if she’s slapped him.
‘I’m sorry,’ she rushes in. ‘I didn’t mean it like that. What I’m trying to say is that things are different now. I’m in a better place.’
‘Without me, you mean.’
She swallows the urge to tell him to stop being so childish. ‘I’m trying to remind you I want you to be a part of this. But to do that, you must lose this obsession with death. You need help, Damon. Proper, expert care.’
‘You think I’m mad, don’t you?’
‘Even you must know that something isn’t right.’
He taps at the semicolon tattoo on his wrist with his forefinger. He is becoming more agitated. ‘You want to lock me up. Out of sight, out of mind.’
‘No,’ she sighs. ‘I love you, Damon, but you must admit, if you continue like this, it isn’t going to end well. Let me find you help.’
His eyes narrow. ‘No, you’re the one who needs help,’ he says, his tone taking on a sharper edge.
‘Because without me, your dream of a family isn’t going to happen.
The clinic counsellor told me I can withdraw my consent at any time, with no explanation required.
And no, before you say it, I would very much rather not do that.
But if you do this one thing more for me, help me die again, then I’ll do that one thing for you. ’
Melissa’s hands fall limply to her sides, and she’s unable to draw a proper breath, much less respond. Damon swallows hard, suggesting he knows he has crossed a line, but that it’s too late to retract his threat.
‘There are four billion men in the world,’ she says at last. The words sound tinny in her ears. ‘You’re not the only one with sperm.’
‘But I’m the one who can get you over the finishing line quickly.
Without me, you’ll have to find someone else, which will take time and be an additional expense you can’t afford.
Do you really want to tell Ade I’ve changed my mind?
And explain why, and what you and I have been doing? How do you think she’ll react?’
Melissa shakes her head in disgust. She has never seen this side to him before, and God knows, she has tested him more than most.
‘You’ve changed,’ she says.
He takes his phone from his jacket pocket and offers it to her. ‘You can call Ade right now if you like and find out?’
Melissa slaps it from his hand and sends it flying across the room.
She doesn’t know this man. She wants to yell at him to get the hell out of her house.
But he’s right, damn him: Adrienne would be devastated if they were forced to return to square one, and how much would it cost to find an anonymous donor and undergo more tests?
It could set them back months, and it’s money they don’t have.
But that isn’t the worst of it. Melissa shudders to think of Adrienne’s reaction to the truth about what they’ve been up to.
Damon appears to interpret her silence as acceptance of his demands. He picks up his device from the floor and turns to leave.
‘Seven p.m., Thursday, at the flat,’ he says without looking at her. ‘See you then.’
He leaves without saying goodbye, and she sinks into the sofa before picking up a cushion and hurling it across the room.