23. Blesk
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
blesk
I love books. There is a book out there for everything. I wish there was a book that details how to wake up after a day like yesterday. One that details how to feel, what to do, and what to say. That says, this is the way forwards now…
I wake up in bed with Konnor’s arm draped over my waist, his chest pressed against my back, and our legs tangled together. Everything I’ve tried to move on from has caught me.
Literally.
The room is dim. The curtains are pulled shut, and the only indication it’s day comes through the window in honks and horns from the city street below.
I squeeze my eyes together. I don’t want to accept it’s dawn. In the black of my vision, I see the harrowing look on Konnor’s face when he pulled Erik off me. I did nothing.
In both cases.
I didn’t stop Erik.
I didn’t stop Konnor.
Konnor beat Erik within an inch of his life, and I just stood there, motionless. Maybe… part of me was relieved. That same relief I didn’t understand in his bathroom.
My heart squeezes.
He is my… Erik. The one I call. The one who comes. The one I am constantly trying to figure out. Where he belongs… What part of my soul does he fit into.
Now, he’s hurt.
Erik is so good at placing things, just right, and I’ve never been able to place him. Not for a long time and maybe, maybe since the very first touch game, maybe since then he’s been a darkness I hide in and won’t look through.
I open my eyes.
A bittersweet feeling squeezes my heart as I blink at a framed photograph on Konnor’s bedside table.
I think, it’s his high school graduation photo.
I can tell from the tassel and gown. Alongside him stand two attractive girls and a smiling father and mother.
He has siblings. A non-biological family, but it’s clear in their shared expressions that was never an issue.
He was gorgeous—is gorgeous. I wonder how many girls have fallen madly in love with that smile.
My eyes sting. I would be crying right now if I had any tears left inside me. I let them all fall yesterday. Looking at him there, wearing that smile for the world and flashing those perfect green eyes, I can see he’s happy. At least in this photo.
Moved on.
No longer Kon.
But now, his breath is like silk on my neck, and when I shuffle my feet, his arm pulls me in closer to him in a way that suggests he’s not letting me go. I wish he were just Konnor Slater, but he’s not.
He’s the boy who I kept in a cage. He's the boy whose life I ruined, whose life I stole.
On the drive back yesterday, I fell asleep in the car, huddled against him. I didn’t intend to sleep, or even try, I simply closed my eyes and sobbed until there was no energy in me to even stay awake.
He was quiet.
Neither Jaxon nor Elise spoke about what happened at all. They will, I’m sure. Oh God, I need to speak to Elise. She must be so confused. Perhaps she hasn’t realised what a complete headcase her new best friend is.
Erik knows.
He knows and he accepts me.
Fuck, I need to stop thinking about him. God, please, just take his name away for a while. I can’t stand it. I can’t think straight, or forwards, or right, or wrong.
This is why I don’t keep friends. When I get close to people, they see things I don’t want them to.
See and judge. I know my dad and Erik hid me away, but I didn’t rebel.
The truth lands like a writhing ball of fire in my belly.
I wanted it. To be kept. To be… hid. I avoided socialising as much as possible because only Erik and Dad understood.
It’s not something that can be easily explained. Erik…
Oh God.
My feelings for him have always been a messed-up ball of emotion that is both content within my big brother’s arms and ashamed of the things I let him do to me when our dad was asleep. I allowed it. Maybe, somehow, I even encouraged it. By relying on him. By needing him.
I wonder whether I’ve ever said no to him. I can't remember. Did I say no yesterday? Or did I simply let him again? How am I supposed to know?
“Blesk?” Konnor murmurs, his arm tightening around me. His breath is warm. I want to snuggle against him as if he is just Konnor.
After what I did to him as a child, I always hoped he would hate me. It’s easier. But I'm not sure he knows about my role in his capture. In those years of isolation. That is why I hate Liz and why we buried her. For closure.
I am Blesk. I want to move on as if she'd never existed, wishing the guilt would disappear with her and with him but here he is. With his warm chest pressed against my back, his scent all around me, and his face nuzzled in my hair.
He doesn't hate you.
“Blesk?” He moves. When I turn around to peer up at him, I find him leaning on his elbow and staring down at me.
My breath catches. His eyes are sleepy and stunning. “Baby, shit,” he sighs. “I thought I dreamt yesterday.” He searches my face, and I search his. The adrenaline is gone, and I’ve found a memory that was missing.
“Say something, Blesk.”
My mouth moves. I want to say, ‘Hi. Have you had a good life? How was your first day of school? Did you enjoy your high school graduation ball? Did you ever learn to waltz? Were you popular? Was your second kiss as beautiful as your first? How many girls have fallen head-over-heels in love with you? And... I’m sorry. ’ All I can manage is, “Morning.”
“Good morning.” He sighs with relief. “Do you like coffee?” He stares at me as if that question has been swirling around in his mind incessantly.
“Do you eat bacon?” His voice pitches higher with excitement.
“Or eggs? I just have to know. I want to know everything. You like fruit, I remember that. Do you want pancakes? Bacon on pancakes? Blesk, I will make you fucking pancakes if you want, or waffles or—”
“Konnor.” I hold my hand up to his silly smile and can’t help but grin back at him. “I like coffee.”
He exhales hard. “I like coffee, too. Coffee it is. How do you like your coffee?”
“Black, no sugar."
When he rolls off the bed and walks towards the kitchen, I sit up and try to remember how to breathe. I don’t want to lie to him. What I want is time… Can I ask him for time? To think. I shake my head back and forth as if to say 'no' to the universe. No. This is all wrong.
Breathing hard, my eyes bounce around the room, searching for an answer or exit strategy but then they land on Konnor.
He's watching me from the doorway, a cup of coffee in his hand. His brows are level and the excitement that was just in his eyes is gone. When he walks back over and sits down beside me, he says, “Here.” He passes me the cup. “You don’t look happy.”
“I am,” I lie. I think. I don’t know. “I’m just... It’s a lot.”
“Yeah.” He sighs, looking at the ground between his feet. “Yeah... Did you know?”
“No.” I shake my head as I cradle the cup and smell its lovely pungent scent. “No, I mean, sort of. I don’t know.”
“Same,” he says to the floor.
I sip my coffee and eye him. He was happy to wake up next to me.
I must look the opposite. Guilt hits me.
Hard. Again. I wish I was nothing but happy to see him.
I wish this meant we could start over, be together, have the life we spoke about for years when we were children.
A life we pretended was possible. It’s not that simple, I need time. I need time to think.
About Erik.
“Konnor.” I put my cup on his bedside table.
He looks up at me, eyes determined. “Liz.”
That name hits hard. “Please don’t call me that.”
He cringes. “What should I call you?”
“Blesk! Call me Blesk!”
“That isn’t your name.”
“It is!” I insist, stiffening and edging away from him. “It has been for a long time, and I moved on.”
Konnor winces. “Moved on? Why? Why don’t you want to remember us?”
“I need a shower,” I mumble, evasively.
His brows furrow hard, creating a crease between them. He points at a door. “There. What’s mine is yours.”
Even though I shouldn’t stand and walk away from him, I do. He is not Erik, and I do feel as though I can move in my own rhythm. I slide my legs off the mattress and walk into the bathroom, locking it behind me.
I slide down the door and cover my face with my hands. My elbows meet my knees as I cry tearlessly into my palms.
Twenty-four hours.
That's all it’s taken for everything to change. A small whimper forces its way through my lips as I consider what I’ve lost: my new life, my brother, and the chance to be with Konnor as just Konnor.
“Blesk?” Konnor’s worried voice calls through the door. “Blesk, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed.”
Don’t apologise to me.
We both remain silent for several minutes before his deep voice rumbles through the door again. “I don’t know what you’ve gone through. Or what this must be like for you. And after yesterday—” He stops, his tone dropping on the next three words. “With fucking Erik.”
What will he think of you?
What will he think of you when he finds out that you let him, that you kept it secret?
He growls and hits the door hard enough for me to feel the vibration.
“Just know I’m happy. I couldn’t be happier.
I thought you died. Everyone told me you died.
But you’re here, in my bathroom. It’s so much to take in, and I’m so happy, but I’m also scared I’m gonna lose you again.
I want to be here for you. I am here for you, every day for the rest of your life, Blesk.
No one will ever hurt you again. Ever.” He knocks on the door again.
“Blesk? Look, take a shower. Maybe that’ll help. ”
I huddle up in the corner of the shower. The steamy water pours down on me as I relive everything that’s happened this past week. College. The Grill. Erik. Elise. New friends. Konnor—Konnor Slater is Deakon Nerrock. I… I don’t know how to sort these pieces. My head hurts.
But underneath my impulse to run, take space and organise all these pieces, compartmentalise, a familiar feeling churns through me. My ever-present friend. Guilt. When I think about Deakon—Konnor—guilt is the strongest feeling.