Riley
Nick drops me off outside Ian’s apartment. After having cheered him on like a rabid fan, I find myself here, holding the keys to his house, ready to leap into the darkness – or, rather, ready to leap into his arms.
I lift the garage door with some difficulty then close it behind me. I take my jacket off and look around with both my heart and my stomach upside-down, feeling very emotional and a bit anxious because he wants me here. He really wants me in his life. He wants me in his family, in the stands and in his bed. He wants me in his past and his present and I want to be all of his future.
I didn’t think I’d really be able to do it, to feel emotions without the past influencing my every breath. I still don’t really feel like myself, but I feel like I am able to build something new and healthy. I know I’m still in pieces, as if I’ve been run over by a lorry, leaving my body a shell full of dust, but I’m still here.
I’m broken, but still in one piece.
I imagine it’ll take Ian a while to get home so I decide to make myself a cup of coffee and maybe read the online show timetable to see what’s planned for the New Year. We’ve also got a new show coming up, something important, and I want to check out our competition.
I grab my coffee and wander about the house looking for a computer - I think I saw one in Ian’s room a few nights ago. I walk around the bed and find it on the desk. I sit down on the stool and open it up. I turn it on, and after a few seconds the screen saver appears. As I’m about to press the button for the internet my eyes fall onto a file on the desktop.
‘Fucking Bastard’ is its name.
I bite my lip and drum my fingers nervously on the table. I know I shouldn’t open it, that it would be an invasion of his privacy, but something pushes me to do it.
I click on it with my fingers shaking and the folder opens.
My heart beats wildly and my throat is so parched that I can’t get down even a sip of my coffee, but my fingers and my eyes move of their own accord, spurred on by a sensation stemming directly from my stomach.
Fucking Bastard.It thunders in my head, strong, so strong it could fracture my skull. I look over the content frantically, every sentence that I read showing me that this is exactly what I think it is.
Photos, information, research.
My life.
My entire life in a folder on Ian’s computer, and now flashing in my face.
But it’s not seeing my past before me that hurts. It’s not reliving the emotions again, like this, and all in one place.
The garage door closing makes me jump up, but I don’t turn around. I hear him coming towards me. Heavy steps, suffering steps.
Guilty steps.
“Please, let me explain.”
I shake my head, overwhelmed.
“It’s not what it looks like.”
I get up, knocking over the stool as Ian reaches his hand out to me.
“Don’t come near me!”
“Just let me speak, okay?”
“Tell me how long you’ve known.”
“Don’t be like this, Riley.”
“When you slept with me…” I say, shaking.
Ian is frozen, not moving.
“You knew it then, didn’t you?”
His jaw clenches.
