Chapter Twenty-Six #2
‘Jeez, I’m flattered,’ I say sarcastically. ‘Thanks.’
He looks at me uncertainly. It’s the first flicker that things might not be going the way he’d planned.
‘I can’t think what I’ve done to inspire such love and affection,’ I continue calmly.
‘Truly, I’m very flattered. Privileged, even.
’ With the anger building inside, I discard the flannel and gather myself up as best I can in a sheet.
Sticking out my chin, I say determinedly, ‘But if you even think I might feel the same way about you, you’re very much mistaken. ’
Spike seems to take a moment to register what I’ve just said. And then his smile seems to freeze and he goes a funny colour. For once he’s lost for words. This is obviously not the reaction he was expecting.
‘And even if you were the last man on earth, I wouldn’t go out to dinner with you,’ I declare ferociously.
A whole range of emotions flit over his features.
Shock, anger, disbelief, incredulity, hurt.
In fact, he looks really hurt, but then he quickly buries it and, composing himself, says stiffly, ‘You know, I find it really hard to talk about emotional stuff, and it took me a lot of balls to tell you how I feel about you.’
For a second regret stabs. Determinedly I push it aside.
‘So you don’t feel the same way. Clearly,’ he adds, grim-faced. ‘But you didn’t have to be so horrible about it. I do have feelings, you know.’
He stands up, the injured party, and turns to leave.
Which is when I lose it.
‘You have feelings?’ I exclaim, my face flushing.
Jumping out of bed, my sheet wrapped round me, I grab my bathrobe and – while trying to cover myself fully – tug it on.
‘What about my feelings?’ I demand. ‘You stand there and tell me that you thought I was this, that and the other when you met me, but that you’ve decided to like me against all your better judgement, and that it’s so out of character for you, but you’ve struggled against it!
’ I break off, panting, my chest heaving up and down.
‘And then you expect me to be nice to you?’
‘Oh, come on, I didn’t mean it like that,’ he retorts. If he thinks he’s going to start talking, he’s got another thing coming. It’s my turn now.
‘Yes, you did,’ I cry, cutting him dead. ‘And who do you think you are? Criticising me! Insulting me! You’re not so perfect, you know. Far from it.’
‘OK, so I thought those things then, but I’m just being honest, isn’t that what you’re supposed to be with each other? Totally honest?’
‘Oh, you want us both to be brutally honest, do you?’ I’m shouting now, my voice high and hoarse, but I don’t care. ‘Well, in that case, let me be honest with you about a thing or two . . .’
As I step towards him I see Spike flinch.
‘Let’s imagine, for one ridiculous moment, that I did happen to like you.
That I did feel the same way about you. Do you even think –’ I spit out the word ‘think’ as if it’s got a nasty taste ‘– I would ever consider going out with a guy who thinks it’s perfectly OK to go around punching a defenceless old man and threatening him to stay away from his mother or else? ’
It’s as if Spike’s been slapped. The muscle in his jaw starts clenching furiously. He looks demonic, but he’s not saying anything.
‘Well, are you going to deny it?’ I yell.
‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ he says coldly, refusing to be drawn.
‘You can’t, can you? You can’t deny it!’ I’m demanding.
Spike’s face turns red with anger. ‘No, if we’re talking about Ernie Devlin, I’m not going to deny it,’ he snaps.
I look at him, shocked that he’s actually admitting to it. He’s not even trying to make up some excuse.
‘I did everything in my power to keep that bastard away from my mother, and if I had to do it all over again, I would.’
‘But you hit him!’ I gasp.
‘Yes, I did.’ He nods. ‘And trust me, I’ve never hit anyone in my life before.’
He seems so genuine I falter slightly, but pull back.
‘Trust you? After everything that’s happened?’ I snort sarcastically. ‘I’m sorry, but I don’t believe you.’
‘You’ve really got a great opinion of me, haven’t you?’
‘You lied to Maeve. I know you did. You wanted to prevent any kind of relationship between her and Ernie.’
‘You’re damn right I wanted to keep him away from Maeve.’
I can’t believe it! He’s not even making an attempt at arguing.
‘God, you’re pathetic,’ I gasp. ‘You couldn’t stand your mom loving Ernie, could you? You were so jealous you broke up their relationship. You beat him up and broke his nose, causing him to be so terrified of you he had to quit his job and disappear. You broke your mom’s heart.’
Spike looks so angry that I might feel afraid if I wasn’t so angry myself.
‘But then to destroy any other relationship that Ernie might enter into is just vindictive. How could you? Maeve’s just the sweetest person and she’s been sad for such a long time.
But you wouldn’t have any idea about that, would you?
You wouldn’t know that she had to have her baby girl adopted when she was just eighteen, that she’s been wracked with guilt ever since, that on this trip, maybe for the first time in years, Ernie made her smile.
Made her laugh. Made her feel worth something again.
You wouldn’t care about all that, would you?
’ I break off, realising I’ve said too much.
I didn’t mean to tell him about Maeve, but I couldn’t help it.
I’m just so angry. I pause, my heart thudding.
I’m out of breath. ‘And you went and ruined it for her,’ I add quietly.
‘That’s what you think of me, is it?’ asks Spike, finally speaking.
‘That I’m a thug and a liar and a vindictive bastard?
That I’d ruin something for Maeve because of my own feelings towards— God, I can’t even bear to say his bloody name.
’ He breaks off and gasps, shaking his head. ‘You think that this is all about me?’
‘You said it,’ I reply bitterly.
We face each other, me with my arms folded, Spike with his hands shoved firmly into his pockets. Animosity wafts between us like the chill from a freezer cabinet.
‘You talk about your first impressions of me, well, let me tell you mine. From the moment I met you you’ve been rude, selfish and arrogant. You’re so self-obsessed you think the whole world is about you.’
‘I think you’ve said enough, don’t you?’ he says, his voice trembling.
‘I haven’t even started.’
‘Well, I’m not going to stand here and listen to any more of this crap,’ he says determinedly.
‘You’ve made your feelings pretty clear.
I’m sorry I bothered you. I’m sorry I’ve taken up so much of your time.
’ He pauses, as if to say something else, then adds simply, ‘I hope you feel better tomorrow.’ And with that, he turns, pulls open the door and slams it so hard behind him it nearly comes off its hinges. I flinch.
‘And a Happy New Year to you, too. Asshole,’ I yell loudly. And then, to my utter astonishment, I burst into tears.