Mark doesn’t protest, he lets me go without adding another word and I am grateful to him for it.
—
AARON
“Hey, Family!” Patrick bursts into the pub with a dazzling smile and a face that you’d like to slap, holding Erin’s hand.
It seems like she’s been able to resist until now. I feel sorry for the girl.
Rain runs from behind the counter to embrace her friend while Patrick walks towards me with a big toothy grin. I’d like to smash each one of those teeth in and wipe that smile off his face.
“How’s it going?”
How’s it going? Okay Patrick, same old, same old. Ah yes, I remember now. I fucked your sister and then broke her heart.
Patrick exchanges a few jokes with some of the people in the pub before Jay and Liam join in. Everyone meets around a big table giving him pats on the back, laughing and basking in their happiness while all I can do is think of her eyes and her tears as her profile became smaller as she walked away from me in the rain.
“My family is going to be stopping by,” are the words it takes to snap me out of my stupor.
“Your family?” I ask, letting the anxiety close up my throat.
“Yeah, sure. They couldn’t keep away from me another day.”
“Oh right. Away from your wife you mean?” Rain says, making fun of him.
While everyone laughs for no reason that I can figure out, I feel that familiar sensation of anguish starts to fall over me, forcing me to distance myself from the situation.
I take refuge in the back room, sitting on a case of beer and I open one of them, rubbing the can on my forehead, hoping to provide a little relief to the hammering in my head that will not give me peace.
I haven’t seen her in five days, since she left my house after I walked all over her feelings. I haven’t looked for her, I haven’t called, haven’t thought about her at all.
Bullshit.
I’ve thought of her every damned second of every damned day.
“Hey buddy,” Jay says, popping his head around the door cautiously. “Whatcha doing here?”
“What does it look like, you jackass?” I shoot lightning at him.
“Looks to me like you’re hiding.”
“Wouldn’t you?”
“She’s not out there.”
I jump to my feet.
“She stayed at home.”
I swallow hard to regulate my breathing and my heartbeat. I should feel relieved, calm… free. I’m safe, in the sense that she’s not here. I don’t have to look at her and pretend nothing’s going on. To try and fake it in front of Patrick and everyone else. To try and fool myself that it’s not important to me.
And instead it feels like I can’t breathe, like they’ve locked me in some dark, squalid cellar where the light cannot reach me.
I feel alone and useless.
Lost.
I didn’t want to ruin everything, our relationship, me… her. I didn’t want to shoot it all to hell. Yet look what I’ve succeeded in doing.
I have destroyed her dreams. I’ve shot myself in the foot because I am no longer able to look at my face in the mirror after what I’ve done. I won’t be able to look at Patrick either or ever look at her again without feeling this terrible biting in my chest that is bringing me down.
What in God’s name have I done? And what the hell am I still doing sitting here?
Love isn’t a weakness nor is it a stupid distraction or the end of all assurances, safety and security.
Love is warmth, light and dreams.
Love is everything.
Andshe… she islove.
