I move towards him and he turns as I approach. “This!” I snap, snatching the glass from him, the contents spilling over my hand. “Is the reason you’re in this mess, and here you are getting wasted!”
“Don’t lecture me.”
“Why? Because I’m the one who’s not good enough for anyone, yet you had a woman like Antonia, who worshipped the ground you walked on, and you fucking wasted it all!”
“It was a mistake! One I don’t know if I even made!” He punches the window. “What am I going to do?” he chokes, and I’m torn between kicking his ass and being the friend he needs right now.
“Well, for starters you need to stop drowning everything out with this shit.”
“She will never forgive me for this. Forgetting will be impossible for her.”
He lets out a strangled noise and proceeds to punch the window a couple more times until his knuckles bust and blood coats them. Grabbing his arm so he doesn’t do more damage or break the glass, I wrestle him to sit down.
“Sometimes forgiveness isn’t something you can ask for when the damage is so destructive. But proving you’re worthy of it? That’s something you can do.”
OPENING MY EYES, THEY burn and protest at the intrusion of light from the sun filling the room. Adjusting to being awake the few seconds before reality kicks in are the moments I live for, but I do live.
He broke me, but I woke the next day. It didn’t kill me.
The salt in my wounds still hums but I’ve got used to the pain of it. If I just keep moving and not dwelling on the discomfort of having my heart ripped from my chest and thrown in the garbage disposal before being stuffed forcibly back into the hole in my ribcage, I can function almost like a normal person.
Falling apart is okay, and it took me a couple of weeks, but I got back up and I swept all the fragments of my soul into a pile and began rebuilding.
“Tea?” Mary calls from the living room. The last painting I’ve been working on for the nature series is almost complete. The image shows a tsunami flooding a city. Debris and water fill the canvas, and in the middle is a girl, twisted one way and the next. Under the water but just floating above her hand is an oxygen mask.
“It will go cold,” Mary’s voice calls again.
The rich scent of tomatoes and cheese floods the apartment.
“We have a microwave, you know?” I moan.
“Gavin’s gone to get Aidan and you know how much he eats after being at the gym all day.”
Grabbing a plate, I take a slice and sit.
“You’re all gross.” Mary scrunches her nose up at the paint on my hands.
“Did I smell pizza?” Gaby calls, walking through the front door. It’s been a while since she’s been home, and after things blew up with me and Fin, she’s not known how to deal with the aftermath. It’s hard on her being close with us both and not knowing if she should pick sides. I’d never ask her to do that.
Living with him still in my life is something that I’m going to have to get over, and I will, because no matter what, I don’t think I want to live without him in my life in some form. The hurt is still raw right now, and like a sickness, it rears its head and cripples me, but then it passes and I can breathe.
“Here,” I offer, handing her my plate. “I need to wash my hands anyway.”
She grins, snatching up the slice and taking a bite out of it.
“You’re the best. I’m starving.” She makes herself at home on the seat next to Mary. “So, there’s a dinner party we’re having to celebrate the engagement and to get a handle on the guests for the wedding,” Gaby starts. Knew there had to be a reason for her coming in. “It’s in a couple of weeks.”
Mary nudges her when she stalls. “Get to the point.”
“Finlay will be there, of course, but I really want you to be there too.”
Swallowing down the sorrow of hearing his name, I dry my hands and re-join them. “I wouldn’t miss it.”
“We may need to order more pizza,” Mary tells us, while grabbing another slice.
“Not for me. I’m done, thank you.” Gaby gets to her feet and saunters towards the front door just as Aidan and Gavin come through. She pokes at Gavin’s chest.
“Dinner party next Saturday. Get cover because I want you all there.”
“Okay,” he says, perplexed, looking to me.
Shaking my head, I mouth, “Don’t ask.”
“Is this a joke?” Aidan booms, looking down at the almost empty pizza box and then to Mary.
“A girl’s got to eat.”
Sitting opposite Dr Evans for the third time this week, I find it easier to open up to her the more I see her.
“I thought about what you said.”
“Which is?”
“What I used to want from my life.”
She nods her head for me to continue.
“Art has always been where I find the most peace. Peace, love, and happiness. Isn’t that what everyone wants from life?”
“Everyone is different, therefore want different things.”
Straightening in my chair, my fingers twirl a strand of hair that’s escaped the band holding it all in place. I shrug, sitting back and looking out the window at the frost blanketing the ground, killing the life beneath it. That’s how I felt at first. Like the devil clutched me in his grip, infecting me so everything I touched got destroyed or tried to destroy me.
“What do you want from your life now? Is it the same things?”
“With Jackson still out there, I don’t think I’ll ever get peace.”
“And love?”
“I gave it too much power over me. Finlay took all I had and executed me with it.”
“Happiness?” she asks, folding her arms.
Looking directly at her for an answer, I ask, “Can we have that without the other two?”
Silence descends and the fear of her telling me no bites away at the hope I have to someday feel a piece of happiness again.
“When you suffer a betrayal from someone you love, it can leave you questioning a lot of things, and happiness or peace seems to be an impossible feat. But you’re stronger than you think, and you have the power to heal. This hopeless sadness you feel will pass.”
THE MORE I DRINK, the more I think about her. Her memory, her scent, is everywhere, and it’s torture. It’s self-inflicted pain and no one has sympathy for the asshole that broke everything, and I don’t want it, I just want the self-loathing to pass. I can’t even look at myself in the mirror, too ashamed of the guy looking back at me, judging, blaming, hating.
It’s a long way up from where I’ve fallen, and getting up seems impossible. Antonia won’t talk to me or see me, and everyone I once relied on has drifted away. Without the business and Antonia, I don’t know who I am anymore.
If I could bear the thought of not seeing her, even glimpses in passing, I’d make a clean break and spend some time traveling.
Checking my watch, irritation crawls over my skin.
She’s late.
Julie called and asked to come over. Like fuck was I having her anywhere near my place, but if I didn’t meet up with her to find out what’s so urgent, she would come over anyway and cause trouble.