Chapter 55 #2
He pressed a few buttons on the remote, selecting the slide show option. The screen darkened then burst into life and I took a deep breath as the first image appeared.
My hair.
That was the very first one. Me sitting in front of my bedroom mirror, locks of hair laying like dead leaves on the floor. I looked like a ghost.
“I needed to remember what I’d done to you,” Alfie whispered, his breath hot on my neck, holding me just like I had held him in a jacuzzi once as I whispered to him about our Evergarden.
“Every time I was tempted to come back into your life, this reminded me how badly I’d hurt you… why I needed to stay away.”
My heart pounded, beating heavy. I didn’t want to look but now that it was right here in front of me, I couldn’t turn away.
The next images were more of the same. Me crying into my pillow, me sobbing in my sleep. Keira in my bed, holding onto me through my nightmares. Photo after photo of me looking empty and broken.
I ached for that girl, how much she’d hurt because of the man holding me now. For her sake I hated Alfie, felt her anger all over again.
Then it changed. I was standing outside the entrance to The Kew Gardens, the notebook Keira had given me tucked under one arm, nervous excitement on my face. My newly shorn hair was loose, my blue skirt and white blouse too light for the autumn weather. That was my first day at college.
“I was in awe of you that day. Watching you pull yourself out of the hole and embrace something new.”
The next was one of me with my hand raised in class, in the one after I was working on a project with my classmates, building a sculpture out of grasses and scrap materials.
“I loved watching you work. The way you play with your mum’s necklace when you’re thinking. How excited you were to show off your designs.”
The next images were of me meeting Imani, coming top of my class, graduating.
I’d worn my blue dress that day, the one he loved.
There were a dozen images of my graduation and the party afterwards.
Me accepting my diploma. Close ups on my face, smiling, hugging my classmates, Keira popping a bottle of champagne over me. On and on it went.
“I loved watching you thrive. I wanted to see that you were okay without me, how you healed yourself in a way I couldn’t begin to understand.”
I had thrived, but still, interspersed between all of my happiness were photos of my nightmares, or the empty stare that Keira had mentioned so many times, the one that I wore when Alfie had consumed my thoughts.
Those moments had hurt the deepest. Those moments where I missed him like rain in a drought.
Keira was there too, us watching films on the couch, us dressed up in halloween costumes, us dancing in clubs.
I winced over the photos of me on dates, laughing at another man's stories, letting another man's lips touch mine, then the inevitable tears that came when I got home.
“Every time you went on a date I hoped and dreaded he’d be the right man for you.”
None of them ever had been, not even close.
Before I could dwell on that, the first images of me with my family appeared. It was Christmas and by the length of my hair I guessed it was the first Christmas after we’d separated.
Alfie held me tighter, he knew this would hurt the most. My family was so precious. I would rather he’d taken pictures of me naked than done this.
He’d had those cameras everywhere. The lengths he’d gone to…it was mind boggling.
My stomach twisted at the picture of Ryan and I decorating the tree, Keira sitting in the background getting tipsy on what was probably rum.
“Your family has always fascinated me. So different from my own memories of Christmas.” I wanted to turn around and shake him for talking about my family like we were guinea pigs. “Hold on, Lo.”
I lay in his arms, watching hundreds of images fade in and out, tears sliding down my face as I realised that all of this was never about me, it was all about him. His need to see that I was better without him, to remind himself of the damage he’d caused so he’d stay away.
They weren't salacious, not a single one of them. It wasn’t malicious, it was tragic, borne entirely out of pain from a man that didn’t exist anymore.
That Alfie Tell really didn’t exist anymore.
This Alfie Tell that hadn’t tried to use sex to manipulate me, that went to therapy and gave me choices, he was who existed now.
Alfie grew silent as the images played on but I could feel his tension growing, his muscles stiffening.
The final image was us on the street but I couldn’t tell where.
The way I was looking at him had my heart stuttering.
It zoomed in closer on my face. I stared at it.
Was that how I looked at him? I looked like a bride gazing at her groom on their wedding day.
I looked certain. Like I knew I was exactly where I belonged.
The image faded and the slideshow started over.
Alfie’s arms relaxed, not leaving me, but giving me the choice to leave if I wanted. Instead I just lay there, in a kind of shock.
It was finished.
Done.
I’d seen it, all of it…and I was okay.
I slipped my hands into his, relishing the feel of his skin against mine. I wrapped his arms around me, allowing myself to feel heaven. Bliss. Home. Like I once had.
I peeked up at him, he was watching the slideshow, his eyes dark.
“What is it?” I asked.
“I really did this to you.” He stared at what he’d done as if he’d never seen the pictures before. I could see the weight of his actions crashing down on him. His guilt wasn’t going anywhere for a long time, and neither was my distrust.
“Why did you save that last picture? The one of us on the street?” It was the only one that had been saved since he’d come back into my life almost two months ago.
He dragged his gaze away from the screen and finally looked down at me.
“Motivation. To remind myself what I’d lose if I fucked up again.
Every time I’m tempted to dip into old behaviours, it’s that picture I look at, not the ones where you’re hurt or happy, the one where you love me and you don’t even know it. ”
My breath hitched as I stared up at him, lost in his eyes. Those three words were stuck, buried deep and how much truth would be in them I didn’t know.
“You can’t say it, I know you can’t say it. You can’t hear me say it either.” But he wanted to, that I could tell. Relief swept over me that he wasn’t going to take us to that place, I wasn’t ready and I wasn’t sure I ever would be.
Peace and closure, I needed peace and closure first and I’d taken a huge leap towards that tonight.
I studied him, this perfect, imperfect man.
My eyes drifted to his soft mouth. I could feel his touch, his scent drifting over me like a love potion, everything about him was designed to draw me in, a thrill for my senses.
“You want me,” he whispered, his voice hoarse.
“I always want you.” It was a painful, terrible truth. I shouldn’t want him, especially now, but there was no help for it.
I could feel his growing erection behind me, the thud of his heartbeat against his chest. He wanted me too but instead of taking advantage, he screwed his eyes shut, letting out a disgusted grimace. When he opened his eyes, they shot to the rolling slideshow.
“This is so fucked up.”
His hatred for himself was palpable and it was a hatred he deserved. Nevertheless, I knew I couldn’t heal if he didn’t. I squeezed his hands tighter, drawing his attention back to me.
“Delete them, Alfie. Delete all of them. Wipe the slate clean.”
So, we did. I don’t know how long it took but I lay there in Alfie’s arms as we went through each image, deleting all of them one by one.
When it was over, we weren’t fixed and he wasn’t forgiven, but I was free.