5 #3
‘Are you hurt?’ he asked, his voice level. Clinical almost, as he scanned her from head to toe.
His question made me look again at her face, realising one cheek was much darker than the other, and there was no way its colour could’ve been caused by the cold alone. I didn’t move, unsure if she’d noticed me yet. Feeling like this scene wasn’t something I was supposed to be a part of.
‘I’m sorry, sweetie, I’m fine. Everything’s fine, I—’
I turned back to the risotto, trying to make myself as unnoticeable as possible and give them their private moment. But once her voice had trailed off, and the silence dragged on, I realised I was the reason why. Both her eyes and Adam’s were on me. Both the exact same shade of blue.
Later that night, once his mum had settled into the room I worked out she stayed in fairly regularly, Adam told me everything.
As he laid out the history of his parents’ relationship, the slow deterioration that escalated into something darker and more dangerous as he’d grown older, I held his hand and realised why he’d never wanted to expose me to this before.
It was horrible to hear, and I couldn’t even imagine what it had been like for him to have that as his only frame of reference for a relationship.
A love turned so dark – and that was the problem.
Despite him trying to get his mum to leave once he’d been old enough to realise what was happening, love was the thing that kept her going back to that house.
I’ve never met his dad, but I know Adam’s greatest fear is becoming anything like him.
But even in our relationship’s lowest points, when I felt like some of that darkness that he’d been brought up around could appear, it never did.
He’d get jealous, angry and upset like any other person.
And sometimes it would be without much evidence, which would frustrate me, but I knew the cause of it was an insecurity so deep-rooted that all I could do was be patient.
Try and show him over time what love should really be like.
I hope that somewhere along the way, I have.
‘Tell me something.’ Adam’s low voice brings me back to the present. He’s moved forwards, now settled on the sofa where I can see him more clearly.
‘Like what?’
‘Anything.’ He shrugs.
He needs a distraction, but my mind draws a blank as I reach for something to say. I think back on the evening – dinner and board games played around empty plates – and I chuckle as I remember a fact he’s not aware of that will definitely catch his attention.
‘You know when we were playing Dobble earlier?’
‘Of course.’
The quick-fire card game is his favourite, and one he rarely loses. Even though, as he’s about to find out, the odds are very much stacked against him.
‘Did you know that Lucas cheats every time he plays?’
He doesn’t react straight away. Then what I’ve said registers and his head shakes like he’s coming out of a trance. ‘What!’
‘Shh!’ I hold up my hands then lower them slowly, hoping he hasn’t woken anyone with his exclamation. ‘Yep, his cards never actually match. He says one of the objects randomly, and you’re always too focused on your own cards to realise.’
His mouth drops open, one hand shifting to rub over his chin as his head shakes in disbelief. He waits, like he thinks I might backtrack and tell him it’s a joke.
‘That sneaky fucker,’ he concludes, more quietly this time, when he realises I’m not lying.
‘Call him out on it next time, his dishonesty must be exposed,’ I say with mock seriousness.
‘Oh, I’ll be having words with him tomorrow, you can bet on that,’ he jokes back, smiling for the first time since I walked in.
I smile too, happy that he’s shedding the weight that has been on him since he hung up the phone. He leans back against the sofa cushions, sinking into them as he turns his head.
‘Thanks, Lotts.’ I know he means for more than filling him in on Lucas’s crimes against card games.
‘Always,’ I reply, meaning it.
‘I should try and sleep,’ I add, feeling like I need to go back to my room before we risk sliding into dangerous territory. ‘I don’t want to be falling asleep in my first lesson tomorrow.’
He bats my worries away like they’re not a very real possibility and this isn’t my second disrupted night in a row.
But of course, he doesn’t know about the first night.
I wonder if I should tell him now, while we’re alone.
I’ll have to eventually if we want to give things another try, but now doesn’t seem like the right time after the night he’s had.
‘I’m sure you’ll be great,’ he continues, ‘but sleep is probably a good idea.’
He pushes up to standing, pausing before he moves further, like he doesn’t know whether he should come over here first. Should we hug?
Shake hands? Kiss? I know that would be a bad idea, but it feels odd not to.
Thankfully, all he does is lift his hand to wave before crossing the floor towards the room he’s sharing with David.
‘Good night, Lotts.’
The door closes behind him and I’m left alone.
‘Night, Adam,’ I reply, only the stars left to hear me.