She glanced at me over her coffee cup. “This has been a passion project for you, hasn’t it?” I nodded. “But it’s really about Elliott.”
“He’s been the driving force,” I replied honestly.
“It’s a wonderful thing to do in his memory, Skye.”
“I’m not sure who I’m doing it for anymore,” I replied. “Him or me.”
“Explain yourself, darling.”
“I think I need…some support.”
“What are we talking about here, Skye?” she asked softly. “Bereavement support? Counselling?”
“Yes, but other stuff too.” I sighed. “Not just Elliott but all the other crap. There’s been so many losses, Chris. I’m not sure I’ve worked out how they’ve impacted on my life.”
“Darling, everyone has their own journey. We get no maps, no instruction manuals or built-in sat nav.” She leant in. “But what we do get is a good spirit level. We know when we start to tip. Some of us do something about it and others ignore it, deny it, hope for the best.” She took my hand. “You, my darling, know you need to do something about it.” She tapped the back of it. “That’s half the battle.”
“I know I need to work on a few things,” I said, “but I’m not sure where to start.”
“Close your eyes,” she said, “tell me the first thing that comes into your head.”
“There’s someone I like,” I rushed out without a second thought.
She looked around dramatically. “Where is Will tonight?” She winked.
“How do you know?” I smiled.
“I’ve been around a long time, Skye. There’s not a lot that passes me by.”
“He said he loves me.”
“Good man.”
I shook my head. “I’ve waited so long to hear him say that, longer than I thought, but I can’t help having these maddening intrusive thoughts that he deserves more than I can give him right now because I need to love myself first.” The word caught my throat, encouraging tears. Admitting it out loud was difficult. “I need to love myself – before I can love him back.”
“My clever girl,” she said, wiping my tears, “your mind believes everything you tell it, darling Skye. It’s important you tell it the good stuff. Feed it love, give it truth, be kind. Be enough for yourself first because how can you be enough for anyone else? It won’t work, sweetheart and oh my goodness, I want it to work for you.” She leant in. “Now…let’s see if they’ll add a drop of brandy to this drink.”
“Alcohol seems to make everything worse,” I replied.
“But talking makes everything so much better.”
25
Skye
Talking to Dr Chris made everything seem clearer. We didn’t need the brandy, but I needed the talk. I went home with a strong sense of what I had to do next, the first steps I needed to take in order to heal old wounds. Will continued to send messages, pictures and memories, all with the word reminders attached to them. For the last few days, I looked forward to them, but then they stopped along with replies to my text messages and failed attempts to call him. The time away from each other was a reminder that there were parts of me I needed to come to terms with, aspects I needed to address rather than keep locked away. I was given a lot of time to think and plan, but when all of the pieces came together and fit perfectly, I knew I needed to see him and explain.
And to offer him a promise.
I’d never been so daunted about knocking on a door before. I could see the light on in his bedroom window and after a twitch of curtain and three more knocks Will eventually appeared.
“Hey,” I said as he stood there in all his nerdy splendour. Marvel pj bottoms, glasses and a Superman curl. “There’s a lot I want to say to you and I know it probably won’t make any sense but…I need you to listen and try to understand that I’m doing this for us, but ultimately me, and, shit, this isn’t coming out how I wanted it to.” He folded his arms and I ignored the wonderful curve of his bicep and his awful cold stare to continue. “I had to see you because I didn’t want to go out the coward’s way. I’ve been called a lot of things in my time, but never a coward.”
“Skye–”
“Wait,” I rushed out. “Don’t say anything. Not yet.”
“When do I ever get a chance to say what I want?”
I moved forward and placed my hand over his mouth. “I’m so in love with you, but it scares me because I’m not sure I love myself and how can I love you in the way you deserve if I don’t love myself?” I was rambling and I wasn’t sure if it was nerves or the fact that he still had his arms folded. I slowly moved my hand away and tried to breathe, but his look pierced me, and every breath was escaping my chest.
He looked at the floor.
“What have you come to say, Skye?”
I pulled in my top lip and moved my gaze from him to the floor. “I’m leaving.” I caught the slight hitch of his breath. “Dr Chris has arranged for me to volunteer at a sexual health clinic in Amsterdam. It’s run by her friend. They have counsellors there. One of them specialises in loss and bereavement and she’s agreed to offer me some…help.” I ended the statement with a laugh wrapped in a sob. The word help encouraged the upset, the unbelievable situation I found myself in where I was finally admitting I needed to do something about putting the pieces of myself together that I feared I was losing.
“Skye–”
“You’ve been so patient and kind and selfless.”
“Skye–”
“Let me finish.” He finally looked at me as I held up my hand. “I came to tell you that this isn’t the end for us…it’s the start.”
“Start?” he questioned, twisting his face into unbelievable mode. “What does that even mean? The start of us happened years ago. The start of us happened the moment we met.”
I wrapped my arms around myself. “Don’t make this hard–”
“Hard?” He laughed.
“What’s wrong?” Something was different. Something had changed.
“I’ve been fired, Skye,” he gritted out. “Does that make it hard? Gav got the promotion and I’m out.”
“What?” I gasped, the words fading away to nothing as anger took over. “How? You said the job was yours.”
“Funnily enough, Skye, they weren’t happy with the fact that I’d helped make a porn film.” He sighed. “Didn’t look good on my appraisal. Accomplishments for the year, filming a great anal scene. Really got the slip and slide motion just right.”
“How did they know?” He sighed and it didn’t take me long to understand. Gav. “Where the fuck is he?”
“Calm your tits. He isn’t here.”
“That bloody weasel!” It was one of those moments where I could feel the blood rushing through my ears, a loud beat, a drumming that felt like it was getting louder. Anger, rage and shock that his so-called friend could betray him like this.