18
brOKEN HEARTS layers of custard with sherry infused jelly and a whipped cream with colourful sprinkles on top. She noticed me pouring a huge glass watching me carefully.
“You okay baby?” She asked, focussing on me, nodding to the glass in my hand.
“Yeah fine, mama.” I smiled as I took a big gulp of the wine. I let the liquid burn as it slid down my throat. Emotionally, nothing could hurt me more than what I was already feeling but with two days in a row of chaos and family drama, I needed to feel a little physical pain or better yet, just get blind drunk and black out the shit that is my life.
I checked my phone and still nothing. Frustrated, I threw it on the counter top which drew mum’s attention back to me.
“Wanna talk about it?” She asked softly, knowing that something was going on. My Mum was very supportive, but she knew not to push. Plus, after my sister’s revelation about my parents and my mental wellbeing, I thought it best to keep my situation to myself before they ship me to another counsellor.
“No, it's just complicated” I smiled, keeping it very vague before changing the subject. “Need help?” I asked. My heart skipped a beat, remembering Nate's offer to Ivy in her kitchen yesterday morning. The exact phrase.
“It's okay, dear. Just keep me company and catch me up on everything.” I raised my eyebrow at her failed attempt to get me talking. I sat down at the table and we spoke about her week, while she tried to make me laugh. It felt nice to focus on something else rather than my problems.
Dinner was delicious and I was stuffed after two feasts in two days. Mum wanted to give us left overs to take home so we could eat tomorrow without having to cook. She always worried that we weren’t eating enough.
We crashed on the living room sofas to watch some Christmas movies together. As I snuggled up to my father, he leaned in and kissed the top of my head. He knew I wasn’t okay and I had heard Mum speaking to him in the kitchen earlier, telling him she was concerned about me. That explains them doting over me all afternoon; they even let me choose the movie, which irritated my sister immensely. I picked The Grinch, not really feeling in the Christmas mood. I could relate to him hating people and the world right now.
My sister had spoken about herself most of the day, how well work was going and how a promotion was on the cards for James. She flaunted how perfect their marriage was, giving me a subtle lecture about relationships. I had indulged in more wine to blot her out and was now feeling a little merry. The credits rolled and in the spirit of Christmas, we put on another movie, just as Mum brought out more wine, now with cheese, crackers and lots of crisps and chocolate. I physically couldn’t eat anything else. Our Christmases were pretty chill and I was grateful for the distraction. This wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be.
James and Brie had fallen asleep on the other couch and my parents were glued to the TV, still indulging in treats, when my phone started to buzz on the coffee table, making me jump. Nate’s name flashed up on the screen and I quickly pulled the phone to me so my parents couldn’t see who was calling. I excused myself and ran out into the garden. It was chilly but the amount of alcohol that pulsed through my veins made my body slightly warm.
I looked up at the night sky, taking a small breath, seeing it puff into a small cloud in the chilly air, before composing myself to answer the phone. I waited for him to speak. I had nothing to say right now.
“Gi,” he sighed. “Can we talk?”
“Why are you calling me Nate?” I replied casually, composed. The alcohol had given me confidence; I wasn’t afraid to stand strong.
“I'm sorry” was all he said, it frustrated me. I was expecting more.
“You made it very clear last night. There’s nothing to talk about. I’m done with this bullshit!” I snapped.
“Please, listen…” he begged. His tone was different, pleading, so I stayed silent, allowing him to speak. “Last night, my Dad got under my skin and it got too much.”
“What the hell was that?” I asked him sternly, surprised by the sharp tone that slipped from my mouth. I was pissed off with him. I needed answers and I wasn’t going to accept anything less this time.
“My Dad and I have a complicated relationship. Let's leave it at that.” He chuckled, trying to take control of the situation again. To leave me in the dark about the situation with his dad, which seemed to be ongoing, and clearly affected more aspects of Nate’s life than he dared to admit. He was denying the fact that this was, indeed, a problem.
This on and off bullshit was exhausting. This time it ran deeper than just sex with us, there were feelings involved now whether he wanted to admit that or not.
“No, let's not leave it,” I said, a little more annoyed now. My blood was boiling and I didn’t want to have this argument with him again. “This is the problem Nate. You push me away, hide things, get angry, there is no communication. You were right… this was a mistake because I can’t keep getting hurt by you.”
“Gi, I'm sorry I hurt you,” he said, "but I told you not to get too involved. I didn’t want to hurt you like that.”
He had warned me and it was my fault that I was hurting, I had let it go too far.
“It’s too late. You have hurt me. I can’t help that I care about you, that I love spending time with you… that I… have feelings for you,” I confessed, letting the tears fall silently into the night sky. I had nothing to lose now and I couldn’t keep lying to myself, to him, I needed to come clean once and for all. I could hear him on the other side of the phone sighing in defeat.
“Gi, please don’t. I told you not to,” he said, softly.
“Too late I guess,” I whispered, as the tears continued to stream down my face while my heart ached.
“You don't know me, Gi and you wouldn't like me if you found out the real me.” There was a pause. I had nothing else to say.
I had confessed my feelings to him and he still wouldn’t admit his own. I knew they were there, he was scared. He wasn’t even close to his family so how could he get close to anyone else, to spill his heart and be vulnerable? If he couldn’t be like that around them, he sure as hell couldn’t around a stranger. “I can't give you what you want. I'm not that person”
“So, why call me? Why waste even more of my time?”
My voice was shaking. I wanted this call to go a different way but instead it was worse than yesterday. I was in too deep. I lowered myself onto the childhood swing to stop from falling to the ground. I fiddled with the hem of my jacket as I sat on the swing, gently pushing my feet on the ground, swaying as I looked back at the house. I longed to be a kid again, how easy life was then.
“I didn't know what to do,” he admitted, his voice shaking too. It sounded like he was crying but I couldn’t be sure. I couldn’t listen to this. I couldn’t be pulled further into the blackhole that Nate had created. I wasn’t going to be crushed. He had made it very clear; I wanted more and he didn't. There was nothing more to discuss. I sniffed, wiping my face with my sleeve.
“I think you do, Nate. You have made it clear every time we have a conversation. But I can’t do this anymore. I’m sorry.” I hung up the phone and cried into my hands.
My Dad had been watching from the kitchen window. He knew something was going on, so while Mum was in there cleaning up, he came to watch over me. As if on cue, as soon as he saw the phone in my lap, he ran outside, placing a blanket over my shoulders. He came to comfort me, not saying a word, just being there and letting me cry into him. Just as I had so many times as a child and when Kyle and I broke up.
My Dad and I had such a close bond, the intuition he felt when I was hurting was something that couldn’t be explained. He was the only person on this earth that knew my concealed signs.
We stayed there until I felt ready to return to the house, settling into my childhood bedroom. I thought of the memories I had made in this room, when life was simple and all I had to worry about was doing my homework. I left my phone on the pillow beside me, the soft vibration against my head pulling my attention back to it. I sniffed back the tears I had been crying since I climbed in, focussing on the message appearing on the screen in my line of vision…