Chapter Thirty-Two #2
It sounds serious but it wasn’t his first overdose—nor his last—it was just another of those states I found him in.
Seeing him like that became a new kind of normal for me but even still, my stomach dropped, my hands shook and my eyes welled up with anger.
I backed out of the bathroom, closed the door behind me and left the sunglasses on top of my chest of drawers.
That’s a bad memory, I tell myself as we drive around the cliffs. With my head leaning against the window and a familiar nausea in my gut, I’m paying no mind to the conversations going on around me.
When we arrive at the house, everyone rushes off to pick their rooms even though they basically all have their own designated room here, anyway.
I can’t remember the last time me and my family came here together for a holiday.
I don’t know why. It’s such a beautiful house.
Been in our family for centuries. It’s all white with big roman pillars, huge french doors that look out onto the patio and the swimming pool and the place where Arthur and I got ‘married’ all those years ago.
There’s even a private beach. The steps go down from the side of the house, into a little secluded lagoon. The balcony in my room looks right down to it. The whole house is so open and airy but yet so hidden and secret that it’s just kind of perfect.
I slip my sandals off by the pool, sit down and dangle my feet in while I wait for everyone to unpack. I don’t have anything with me—just one large suitcase and two smaller trunks—because I tend to keep a lot of things here every time I come.
“Imagine if I pushed you in,” Spencer says behind me.
I lean back on my hands, stare at her walking over to me. “And then I hit my head at the bottom and didn't come back up.”
She tuts, rolls her eyes, sits down next to me. “Why do you have to say things like that?”
I shrug, laugh. “First thing that popped into my head.” I turn to look at her, squinting a bit as the sun pierces through the trees. “Did you love him?”
She turns to me, eyebrows up, surprised. “Who?”
“Connie.”
She seems to think about it for a second, swallows, shakes her head. “I don’t have time for all that.”
“I don’t mean now—I mean, back then, in school, did you?”
She looks away, glances down, shakes her head again. Seems to almost brush it off. “I don’t know. I was really young, no one falls in love at that age.”
“I did,” I tell her. “And so did Arthur.”
She tilts her head at me, smiles. “You’re different.”
“How?”
“You and him,” she nods behind us. “That’s a trauma bond. I don’t know anyone else who had that kind of relationship at school.”
I frown. “We fell in love before all of that.”
Spencer sighs, kicks the water with her feet. “It doesn’t matter, Phoebes. He loved Primrose then and still does now. There’s no point in dwelling.”
She stands up, tells me she's going off to read.
“What book are you reading now?”
“Oh, Finnegans Wake by James Joyce but I’m not really reading it, I’m translating it into Russian,” she says casually.
I blink—twice. “Why?”
She laughs, carries on inside.
I go and find Arthur and not because I view this house as another one of our sacred places and want to spend every waking moment with him but because I like him. As a friend.
But just as I go to walk up the stairs, there’s a knock on the door and just from the two simple taps, it sounds excited. Not an urgent tap but a rhythmic one— knock knock— no breaks or pauses. I wasn’t expecting anyone and I don’t think anyone else was, either.
I open it.
Digby stands on the doorstep.
Before I can blink, breath, or say anything, he grabs my waist and lifts me up into a hug, presses a small kiss onto my neck.
“Hi?” I frown as he puts me back down.
He beams down at me. Not a small smile. A huge one. “Phoebs! I’m here! Gonna spend the summer with you! I know I had some school stuff to tie up, but it was all over quicker than I thought. I’ve finished uni now so I thought I’d come out.”
I stand there, looking at him. “How did you know I was here?”
He brushes a hand through the air. “Spoke to your mum, didn’t I?”
I blink. “You asked my mum where I was?”
He nods almost proudly and then puts his arm over my shoulders and walks us back into the house, kicking the door shut behind him. I almost want to run out the door, tell his drivers to stop unloading his luggage and to take him back to the airport. He shouldn’t be here. This isn’t his place.
He hugs me again only this time it’s so tight that I can’t breathe and actually, I have a feeling that I’m going to be pretty suffocated with him being here.
“Look,” he says, leads me into the living room as though this is his house and not mine.
He pulls me down to sit beside him on the sofa.
“I know it’s been a rocky few months, okay?
I’ve been so fucking stressed and paranoid and you’ve been so upset.
We’ve been fighting non stop, it feels like.
I want things to be right with us again, Phoebs. I love you.”
I nod, speechless.
He’s reminding me of the him I first met at my quick stint at uni.
The worst part is, I know he’s being genuine because he is a very honest, genuine person.
And I hate that. When we argued, I felt validated.
Like I finally had a reason to stop loving him—not that I did in the first place.
You can see or hear anyone argue and immediately pin them down to being a nasty person and I think that’s what I was trying to do—to myself, my friends, Arthur, everyone.
I wanted them to see the Digby who made me cry and anxious and upset.
Not the one who shows up randomly, drops out of their dream uni and tells me he loves me every day.
Digby never hurt me how Arthur did. He’s a good person and I have to face that. Even if all I want to do is strip him bare till the most horrid parts of himself are on display.
“You do know that Arthur is here, don’t you?” I say, hoping he’ll fuck this whole thing off and go back home.
He nods. “I’m not stupid. Of course, he’d be here. But I’m here, with you.” He reaches for my hands and I let him take them.
I just about get my breath back when he leans forward and presses his lips to mine.
“Let’s go out for dinner,” he smiles, squeezes my hands, pecks another kiss onto my lips.
“With everyone or…?”
“No, just us. A date. When was the last time we went on a date?”
“Okay,” I manage a small smile, nod, and get up just as I feel my eyes begin to fill with tears and my chest getting tight.
I run up the stairs and into my room where I close the door and sit against it.
I can’t explain the feeling. But I feel trapped with Digby.
A kind of disgust, I think. A disgust with myself because I know exactly what I’m doing but for some reason I know ending it with him would only hurt him more because he can’t see what I’m doing to him.
I never planned or intended to cheat on Digby but then again, I never planned on being with someone who wasn’t Arthur.
It’s like he should’ve known this would happen.
I know he deserves better than me. Arthur and I deserve each other because we’ve hurt each other on the same level.
Not many girls would put up with Arthur and not many boys would put up with me.
I think that maybe I should call someone.
Dr.Kane? No, he’d only ask me if I’ve been taking my tablets and I haven’t because I don’t need medication.
Evangeline? I haven’t spoken to her in a while but has she even finished school yet?
I don’t know. Maybe not her. I don’t want to just offload all my shit onto her when I know she’s got more than enough problems. Bliss was always a good person to talk to.
She was so bubbly, so positive. Spencer’s too cynical, too serious, too rational.
Athena’s only a good person to talk to when you’re both too drunk to remember the conversation the next day.
When it comes down to it, Arthur is the only one I want. Truly, to the core of the earth, it is only him. Only ever has been and only ever will be. I know this to be a fact because even when I was on the brink of death his face was the only one I saw.
Even after all the cuts and bruises we’ve given each other.
It’s so fucked up that it’s almost kind of perfect.
? ? ?
Digby and I do end up going to dinner. La Chèvre D'or. The food was fine, the company less than stellar, though. He was in a mood the whole time, even when he was looking out at the view which I found amusing because how could you possibly be in a mood when staring at a real life picture?
Anyway, it went by quickly.
The paparazzi outside were a pain, though. But they always are.
I did try talking to him, believe it or not. He didn’t give me much. Maybe he finally realised that Arthur, me and him were all going to be under the same roof for the summer. I did find it weird that he seemed okay with it earlier.
Or maybe—like me—he caught the way Arthur’s eyes actually glistened when I came down the stairs. There’s a certain look you can’t ignore, even in a room full of people. His eyes were like diamonds, blinding everyone around us, Digby included.
When we get back home, Athena and George have gone out for their own dinner while everyone else is doing their own thing. Digby goes straight upstairs, doesn’t say a word to me and I think about how he’s worse than a girl which is embarrassing for no one but himself.
I kick my heels off by the door. Hear a splash coming from outside so I go out there.
Arthur pops his head out of the water, runs a hand through his wet hair and then looks up at me standing by the poolside in my dress.
He says nothing for a second, just stares, and then, “How was your dinner?”
I shrug, sit down, dangle my legs into the water. “Could’ve been better, I guess.”