“I’m…”
“I know,” he continued quietly. “I think you’re wonderful. And I’m sorry this hasn’t been what you deserved. I couldn’t give you all the things you…”
“Shut up,” I hissed.
“No, I mean it.”
“Do you think…”
Fuck. I needed to get this conversation to go elsewhere. Because this? No. I didn’t want to talk about this. I wanted to talk about Peter feeling better about not being over his bloody dead wife. I wanted him to feel okay about freaking out because God knew I was. I just wanted the normal Peter back. The quiet, carefree, happy Peter who would crack a beer open and hand it to me as he sat himself gently down on the bed, then laughed as I threw myself onto my stomach and made him spill his beer. That was what I wanted.
I wanted normality. The only small piece of it I had in here.
I just wanted things to be… The truth was? I was terrified he would make good on that threat to leave. To walk out and leave me in here. I needed to tell him that. Beg him to stay. Make him believe he had to.
Manipulate things my way. I was good at that. But that was in situations so different to this that I couldn’t even start to compare them.
I wanted him to stay. I needed him to stay with me. To…shit.
“My stepdad was an…arsehole.” I was talking too loudly. My voice all monotone in desperation. “He had this obsession with being the man of the house, and he kept trying to make meman up.Me. The guy who was all cocky and camp. I was obviously not the kind of kid he thought I was supposed to be. I just…wasn’t. I was different, I knew that, and all I wanted was for someone to acknowledge that, and instead? I just lashed out. I was completely out of control at times, but it was never good enough. My mum was just terrified of me and of my stepdad and his temper, and then she kept having more kids, and the house was a mess and my stepdad was… It messed me up? Okay?”
Please shut up, Oliver. Please.But no. Here came more.
“I used to rile him up when he got nasty. And it wasn’t just because I was messed up. It was mostly because if he was drinking? He could get mad at me. Have a go at me, and try to beat me up instead of giving my mum a hard time. He used to kick the little ones around. Throw them up the stairs if they annoyed him. For a long time, I thought being a ‘man’ meant…” I slobbered on. Fuck. “Being like him. Being hard and violent. I wasn’t like that, so instead I just shut up and dealt with everything alone. Don’t cry. Don’t talk. Don’t ask. Just pretend you’re fine, and hope no one notices you’re actually crumbling. I never learnt to talk about stuff, letting people in, actually admitting when I’m not okay… And now here I am. And I still don’t feel like I’m…”
Fuck knew what I was on about, but Peter’s hands were back in mine. Holding me. Keeping me from… I was breathing, but just.
“Being a man, or ‘man enough’ isn’t about being tough. It’s about being yourself. Feelings, mess, softness, all of it…” he said quietly. “You’re all of that, babygirl.”
If he was trying to make me laugh? He was failing badly. There were still tears falling down his cheeks. Wetness in his eyes. And I was still desperate. So, so desperate.
“I’m not. I have this high-powered job, and I fuck up. And I do this, and it just goes to hell.”
“I don’t believe that at all,” he said calmly.
“After. When this is all over,” I started.Please make this conversation go well. Please.
“I hope we can keep in touch,” he stated. “I told you before. We’ll exchange numbers. Meet up.”
Not what I’d wanted to hear. Not where this conversation was going.
“Why?”
Fuck.
“Because I think we have a shared experience here. A friendship. I’d hope you’d keep in touch.” So sensible, Peter. Neutral. He’d obviously learnt the script. Memorised the required conversation. Fuck him.
“We could go for walks,” I snuck in. I meant it sarcastically, but he smiled. A small, weak smile.
“For our health.”
“It’s good for us.”
“Sure.”
He shook his head.
“Oliver, you’re amazing. Remember that. You’re funny, and kind, and you have a lot to give. I know you don’t see it, and you deflect with allthis –sorry, but it is – cocky behaviour sometimes, but you don’t need to. You’re great, just being you. I want you to be happy. Remember that.”
