It is all that and more, but it also warms a path from my mouth to my stomach and reminds me that I can feel; that my body is sentient and capable of feeling. Alain knocks a drink back as he sits beside me at the table. He takes my hand between both of his and focuses on my face as he says, ‘What can I do to help?’
Nothing.
There’s nothing any of us can do. That’s what’s so frustrating.
‘I haven’t even told you the worst part,’ I say. I remove my hand from his and pour more sticky dark-brown liquid into the large Baileys glass I’ve been drinking from. I keep pouring until the liquid is right near the top. Telling Mum and Dad in a few hours will be so much easier with a hangover. Even if it isn’t, the headache will act as a filter for their wrath; will dull the harm that I experience as a result of it.
‘What could be worse?’ Alain asks, putting his hand over his glass to stop me pouring more into it.
I smirk at him. As I would have smirked at myself a few hours ago when I didn’t know. ‘She was there. Serena.’
‘Serena? The Serena?’
‘Yes, the Serena. She was there at the hospital for Logan.’
‘What? Wait? What?’
‘His girlfriend. The one he’s given up everything and everyone for? The one who he is obsessed with and has been breaking his heart over and is “complicated”? It turns out, she’s Serena’s daughter.’
‘Wait. What?!’
‘Isn’t that just peachy?’ I take another huge mouthful of the thick, brown liquid, and it slimes over my teeth, my already furry-feeling tongue and tear-constricted throat before sliding down my oesophagus. ‘For the past year my brother has been screwing the offspring of the woman who ruined my life.’ Another gulp. ‘And there was me giving him advice to stick with it. And Bella was telling him to allow himself to be loved.’ Another gulp. ‘And all the while. All the while . . . Complicated. Fucking complicated, that’s what he called it.’ Huge gulp. ‘“Complicated” is married . . . kids . . . lives on the other side of the world, not . . .’ Gulp, gulp, gulp. ‘I keep cycling between being destroyed that he’s in a coma and being glad the fucker isn’t awake because I’d fucking kill him. Serena’s daughter!’ If I drink any more of this liqueur I am going to throw up, but I can’t stop. I need something to take the edge off. To take all the edges off. I’m only now starting to process this, and each thing that goes through the processing part of my mind comes out with razor-sharp edges that cut me to the quick. I am so hurt. Devastated that he would do this.
He’s seen first-hand what being involved with Serena did to me, how it ruined all of our lives, and he’s still done this. He’s still got involved with her, gone to bed with her. Fallen in love with her, from what he was saying.
‘How am I supposed to deal with this?’ I ask Alain. ‘I mean, he’s an adult, he can do whatever the hell he wants. But this feels like . . . a betrayal. A huge betrayal.’ Another one. Another one to add to all the others I’ve had in my life.
‘To be honest, Pops, I’m still back at the stage of him sleeping with Serena’s daughter. Isn’t she like fourteen or something?’
‘No, she was ten years ago. She’s probably twenty-four now. She was sitting there. And my God she’s pretty. Beautiful. I mean, Serena was always beautiful and sophisticated, her daughter is even more stunning, if that’s possible. And I bet you she’s clever like Serena was.’
‘You’re clever.’
‘Not like her. Marcus was always telling me how bright Serena was. How that was what attracted him to her in the first place. She had this incredible mind as well as being beautiful and having the perfect body. She was the complete package. He just liked me because he could see potential in me. Potential to be a bit thinner, to talk a bit better, learn a few more things, find out how to please him in bed. Serena was all of those things without him putting in any work. She was complete. I was just a mess.’
‘That’s what he told you?’
‘Most of it; some of it I just got from the things he said and the way he said them. The way he treated me. The things he told me after he had to hurt me.’
‘What do you think he told her about you?’
‘I don’t know. It’s not like we asked each other what was said when we weren’t together. I didn’t have to, though. I always knew I could never match up to her.’
That’s the final straw for Alain, apparently, and he wrestles the glass out of my hand. He probably thinks the drink has addled my brain and let out a stream of stuff with my freed tongue. When really the booze has just made things clearer, brought the memories back into sharper focus. I can see the past a lot better right now. I can see how and why everything ended up the way it did.
‘Point is, Alain, I can see why Logan fell for Serena’s daughter; she’s probably the better version of someone who was already damn near perfect.’
‘What are you saying?’ Alain is aghast. ‘Serena wasn’t perfect. Far from it. And I bet he said the exact same things to her as he said to you. It was the simplest way to control you both by talking up the other while simultaneously putting you down. It kept you both doing whatever he wanted and stopped you from coming together and realising you were too good for him.’
‘I wasn’t too good for Marcus. I wasn’t anywhere near good enough for him. Don’t you see? Marcus knew everything. He was right about everything, too. He was . . .’ I feel the tears returning. Rushing back to sit behind my eyes, to seal over my throat, to cloud up my mind. ‘He was everything. I loved him so much. I just . . . it felt impossible to be without him, you know? Without him, the world was horrible. Nothing worked. I was . . . I remember being so happy when I was with him. I remember feeling like I could do anything, be anything.
‘And I hated her. Serena. I hated her, not just because she was so perfect in a way that I could never be, but also because she took that part of him away from me. He was rarely ever focused on me a hundred per cent because there was always her. And she was already perfect. And I had to try so hard to be even partway good enough for him. And I tried so hard. So hard. I can’t believe . . .’ I cover my mouth – my treacherous, confessing mouth – with my hand, and immediately the tears that have been flooding out of my eyes run over my fingers as they cascade down my face.
I can’t believe he’s dead.
I can’t believe he’s gone and I didn’t get another chance to make it right with him.
I can’t believe that after all this time . . .
I keep my hand clamped over my mouth so I don’t say it out loud.
So I don’t let anyone know this devastating secret.
I can’t believe after all this time, after all he did, all I’ve been through, I still love Marcus.
Part 4
poppy
Now
The sun has finally arrived, making herself felt by edging up into the sky, lighting up the path in front of her so she can see where she is going on her journey, while brightening up the world for us, too.
Alain has put me to bed as a way of calming my hysteria.