Life Without You

by S. P. West

  So, that asshole-stranger making a scene outside? Well he could rot in hell for all I cared.

  It was as I headed towards the café entrance to confront the twunt, that I finally snapped. Alex Thorson was not going to ruin my life again, not now not ever and if I happened to break any part of his cocky, arrogant face so much the better. Let him feel some of the pain that he’d caused me.

  I became distantly aware that the music had been turned off, that the room had fallen silent and still. Someone tried to grab me as I flew past, staggering back as I forcefully shrugged them off. As I grabbed the handle to open the door I could hear Dax tell Alex to fuck off to which Alex started to respond, stopping as I appeared outside.

  Time stood still as our eyes met.

  It was the first time I’d seen him in almost three months; I couldn’t believe how much he had changed. The strong, healthy Alex that I’d known was gone. The man that stood in front of me was not someone I recognized. Although still handsome, Alex had lost weight. His disheveled clothes practically hanging off his body. His dirty blonde hair was longer, unkempt; he looked like he hadn’t shaved in days. His alert caramel colored eyes were bloodshot, circled by dark, puffy rings. His normally tanned skin was pale, almost gray. I was close enough to notice that he smelt strongly of cigarettes and booze. He looked bloody awful.

  Who knew that karma could be such a bitch?

  “Summer,” Alex breathed, almost like a prayer, as our eyes met. His gaze softened as he took me in, a look of hope crept across his face. It was almost as though he were a dying man who found salvation. His reaction caused me to falter; making me question whether he’d had a change of heart. If he had, then he was too late because I’d one too.

  Oh I still cared about him, loved him even; a small part of me always would. Unlike Alex, I couldn’t just turn off my feelings. What he’d done to us though, had devastated me. I wouldn’t forget how easily he had walked away, or the cruelty of his actions and words.

  In the stillness of the night when I laid awake feeling lonely and the tears fell, as I wished that he was there with me; I would say out loud everything that he’d done to me. Reminding myself over and over of the cruel and callous way he’d treated me. It took some time but I managed to erect icy barriers around my heart regarding anything and everything to do with him.

  I’d often wondered what I’d do if he begged me to take him back. In the beginning, I would have given anything for that to happen. As time wore on, after he’d shown me what a feckless rat bastard he could be, I came to the conclusion that I didn’t want him back. Any trust I’d had was gone; I’d always be looking over my shoulder; questioning his every move, his every interaction with a member of the opposite sex. I’d always worry that he would do it again. Once a cheater always a cheater, right? Heaven forbid if that happened and children were involved.

  No, it was better that I cut my ties with him now and move on. Maybe I’d start dating again; perhaps I’d travel the world, having exciting adventures in far-off, exotic places like I’d planned to do when I left college. Who knows?

  The world was now my oyster and none of my plans involved Alex.

  The touch of his fingertips on my bare arm jolted me from my thoughts. Alex’s arms were stretched out towards me in an effort to try to force me into a hug. It was something that he would do when he wanted comfort.

  Well, not today sunshine.

  All I could see was red, all I could feel was anger. He wasn’t going to touch me, not ever again. The satisfying, resounding smack as my right hand slapped his face echoed through the night. Alex staggered back clutching his cheek, a pained look in his eyes.

  “I guess I deserved that...” He slurred and then he smiled, he actually had the nerve to smile.

  “What are you doing here Alex? Why are you here?” I half screamed, half shouted. People were gathering on the sidewalk watching the scene in front of them unfold. I had no doubt in my mind that everyone at the party was looking out of the cafe windows as well.

  “I wanted to see you. Mis-missssssed yooou.” He looked down at the ground, shuffling his feet before looking back at me, pain written across his face. “Saw the book you made me.”

  The scrapbook? He’d found the scrapbook? I’d left that behind at our old apartment, hidden away. Why the hell had he gone there?

  “Our wedding photos,” he continued, seemingly oblivious to everything around him, including me. “We were so happy. I forgot that we were so happy, blinded to everything.” The effects of the alcohol, obviously making it difficult for him to string coherent sentences together. “I think, I think I may have fucked up,” his head rolled back to look at the sky, making him stumble slightly.

  Was he saying what I thought he was saying? Why now? After all he had put me through over the last eight months? No, he’d had his chance. He wouldn’t get another one.

  “You think?” I struggled to keep my voice low and devoid of any emotion. “Am I supposed to care Alex? You left me for another woman, you fell in love with someone else, you filed for divorce, and I signed the papers. End of.” Impressed with myself that I’d almost managed it. “Go home to your girlfriend and leave me the hell alone.”

  “I don’t have a…. a girlfriend,” Alex said as he stumbled slightly at the effort of dropping his head back down to look at me; which he did with surprising clarity. “I split up from Rachel.” Ah, there it was. He’d split up from the whore and he thought he’d come running back to me. For a moment, my heart had fluttered and hope had flared until I reminded myself that he’d only come back because she didn’t want him and that hurt.

  “Do you really expect me to feel sorry for you? Do you? I’m meant to feel sad that you we’re lied too?” At least he had the decency to look ashamed; the fearlessness that comes with drinking too much seemed to be disappearing. “Well, now you know how it feels. Welcome to my world,” I bit out, turning to leave.

  “No wait. I had to see you. I want. I want...”

  “You do want?” I scoffed as I faced him once again.

  He looked up at me through his long lashes, his eyes focused on mine. My heart stuttered in my chest. I felt heat go straight to my core, causing me to curse my treacherous body’s reaction to him. Despite the pain he’d caused me, despite everything; he was still the most handsome man I’d ever seen. His next words to me, though, dowsed out the any fire that had begun to flow through my veins.

  “You, I want you.”

  Four simple words. Four words that I’d longed to hear when I had begged him to choose me; to come home to us, to make a family. Now they left me cold. This is what I had wanted. What I had prayed for, as I cried into my pillow every night asking all the known gods in the universe to make him see that he had made a mistake, but I’d come a long way since. What was it that my therapist had said? That I’d go through five stages of grief. Guess, I’d finally the hit final stage - acceptance.

  What we had was over. I wouldn’t…couldn’t take him back nor could I forgive, not at the moment. Possibly not ever.

  “You’re still my wife and I love you… I’m sorry,” he continued.

  “Too little, too late boy wonder.” He looked surprised when I used my nickname for him. “Look, it’s late. You’re drunk Alex… Honestly, I don’t think I’ll ever believe a word that comes out of your mouth again. You know, the mouth that kissed another woman?”

  “Sum…”

  “Just go away Alex. You don’t love me; you’ve made that perfectly clear. To be honest I doubt you ever did.”

  “Didn’t I?” He took a step towards me, his face suddenly flushed with emotion. “Do you know what, people?” He said turning to the crowd watching this strange spectacle, “my WIFE thinks I don’t love her but I do. I fucked up big time. Left her for a woman who could suck like a vacuum.” I winced at his words, next to me Dax stood stock still, out of the corner of my eye I could see his fists were clenched together, knuckles white. “Today though, today I realized that I was wr
ong.” He dropped to his knees in front of me in a prayer like gesture, he was crying. “I love you,” he said “and I will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you. Don’t leave.”

  Tears welled up in my eyes. Tears of frustration, of anger - for all the pain that he’d caused me threatened to fall. He’d almost killed me and now he was kneeling in front of me, drunk and begging for another chance. He’d already had that chance and he’d blew it. He’d not get anything else from me.

  “I’m your ex-wife, dickhead. E.X.” I spelt it out for good measure, loud enough so that our audience could clearly hear.

  He moved to try to capture me once again but this time I was too quick for him, shrugging him off before he could encompass me in his familiar embrace.

  “Don’t!” I warned, holding out my hand to stop him from coming near me. “Don’t EVER speak or touch to me again. You’ve lost that right.” I took one last look at him, drinking in the man who’d been my world for so long. A little piece of the ice that incased my damaged heart melted as I saw pain and despair etched on his face; arousing in me a desire to comfort him, to try to take away his hurt. Until the memory of that day at his office, when he made out with his lover for the entire city to see, made my heart freeze over once more.

  Wrenching my gaze from his and holding my head up high, I stormed back inside the café and into the welcome, protective arms of Sergei. Eyes followed me as I went, along with muffled laughter and calls of “Burn.” Someone may even have applauded.

  As the door slammed shut, I heard Alex shout “I LOVE YOU SUMMER THORSON, YOU AND I ARE NOT OVER.”

  The party was over shortly after that. Alex’s unexpected appearance put a dampener on the rest of the evening. Later that night, I lay on the uncomfortable put-up bed in Del’s living room. My suitcase packed, ready for the long journey ahead of me. I reflected on the evening’s events; tossing and turning, unable to sleep. Alex’s appearance had unsettled me. His words tortured me; making me question all the decisions I’d made, and the strength I had gained. How was it that I’d built all these walls around me, yet it took Alex drunkenly asking me to think again to knock them back down? Should I have given him that second chance? For all of the ‘I’m fine and I hate him’ front that I’d put on I found that at night, when I was alone I had nowhere to hide from my true feelings.

  Quite simply I missed him.

  I missed his smile, his smell, his strong arms around me.

  I was on the verge of picking up my cell to call him when the long-buried nightmarish images of him and her entwined in a loving embrace flitted through my mind. That was all I needed to stop me - to think again.

  In the morning, I’d start a new phase of my life. One where I do what I want for me, and who knows where it will take me?

  I allowed myself a small smile then, as I marveled at the fact that I’d come a long way from the broken woman I once was. Yes, I’d wavered but life and love aren’t simple.

  I knew that I still had a lot of healing to do.

  That healing started now.

  The voice of the pilot telling us that the plane is due to land shortly wakes me with a jolt.

  After adjusting my seatbelt, I take the opportunity to get my first look of the home that I’ve missed for years. As we begin our decent, far below I see cows in the field. Tiny little cows that scatter the patchwork of green that surrounds Gatwick airport.

  I’m home.

  The wheels hit the runway tarmac with a bump and I’m filled with a sense of elation, sadness, and joy. Sadness that I’ve left my previous life behind; joy that I’m back home and elation that I get to see my family again. I just pray that I can piece my heart back together.

  After what seems like forever, I finally make it through the arrivals gate. Pushing along my trolley, I hope that at least one of my family has paid attention to the arrival time I sent them.

  I stop dead in my tracks when I see a handsome-ish guy with dark blond hair and eyes the same color as mine, smiling inanely at me. Okay, I’ll admit that he’s extremely handsome. This is evidenced by the number of women (and some men) doing a double-take as they walk past him, or just outright staring at him with their tongues hanging out. I’ll never, in a month of Sundays, understand why people find him attractive. He’s wearing a t-shirt with a picture of me printed on the front, sitting on a potty, that’d been taken when I was about two years old. It bears the legend:

  H.R.H. PRINCESS SUMMER ‘NO KNICKERS’ SULLIVAN ON HER THRONE.

  Oh good god. He didn’t--.the bastard.

  I stare at the 6ft 4ins of solid dork with a mixture of bemusement and horror. I can feel a flash of heat travel up my neck, reaching my cheeks and I know that my face has turned the brightest shade of red with embarrassment. All around us people start to laugh as they clock what the stupid idiot is wearing. An idiot who is now compounding my humiliation by running towards me at full pelt, scooping me up in his massive tattooed arms and pulling me into a bear hug that squeezes all the air out of my lungs.

  Seth.

  My older brother twirls me around and around with a delighted laugh that matches my own. He puts me down and hugs me tightly while I sink into his familiar, much-missed embrace.

  “Welcome home, Fugly,” he whispers in my ear. Normally this would have earned him a punch to the gut or a swift kick in the balls. I let it lie just this once because I’m happy to be in the arms the brother that I’ve missed so much. I’m about to reply with a sentimental response that, in hindsight, would give Seth enough piss-taking credits to last for the next few years, when I hear a very high pitched squeal. I’m suddenly 120lbs heavier as the owner of the squeal jumps on my back almost knocking Seth and me to the ground.

  “YOU’RE HERE!!!!!!!” My assailant shouts, nearly deafening me in the process and crushing me into Seth’s chest.

  “Bloody hell Violet!” Seth gasps out. The impact of hurricane Violet obviously having winded him. “How much weight have you put on? You almost knocked me unconscious!”

  “Two words arsehole,” Violet says as she lets us go, “fuck and you.”

  “That’s three.”

  “Whatever.”

  I stand slightly apart from them watching as their little bicker fest rages on; I’ll never understand why they’re not together. To me, they’re perfectly suited; they just can’t see it. Then again my marriage completely crashed and burned so I can’t really comment.

  Seth is still admonishing Violet for almost putting his back out, not looking at me as he picks up my heavy hand luggage with ease. Violet slips her arm into mine as we follow Seth towards the exit.

  “You know,” she says with a smile, never once taking her eyes off of Seth’s backside we stroll along arm in arm, “I’ve been thinking.”

  “Did it hurt?” I smirk, grateful that she hadn’t asked me how I was. That’s the thing about best friends, you know what to say and when to say it. Vi knew full well that if she asked me how I was right now the tears would start and wouldn’t stop.

  “No it bloody didn’t thank you very much! The correct thing for you to say is ‘What about Vi?’” Her gaze leaves Seth’s arse momentarily so that she can raise her finely plucked eyebrow at me expectantly.

  “What about Vi?” I parrot with a grin.

  “Well I’m glad you asked Summer,” Vi answers feigning a very posh accent, making her sound scarily like Julie Andrews in Mary Poppins. If she says spit spot, then I may run off screaming. “And before I tell you about my idea, I’d like to just say that it’s okay if you don’t want to do it; you also don’t have to give me answer straight away. It’s just something for you to think about when you’re settled.” Violet adds. With wry amusement I note that she’s looking at Seth’s bum again.

  “Okay?”

  “How do you fancy going into business with me?” Well, that was unexpected.

  “I…ummmm.”

  The surprisingly bright sunshine interrupts whatever train of thought I have, causing me to
wince as we step outside into the fresh air. Seth indicates for us to wait while he goes to get the car. Leaving us standing together in awkward silence before curiosity gets the better of me.

  “Business?” I blurt out without pre-amble. “What kind of business?”

  I swear to god it better not be that sex toy manufacturing idea that she had one night after we’d had too much to drink. Personally, I couldn’t see a market for double-ended, vibrating strap-ons especially when you call them Schlong and Dongs.

  “Just hear me out and it’s not the sex toy idea,” she says quickly. The look on my face must have given my thoughts away.

  “I’m listening.”

  “A shop.”

  “A shop?” I repeat dumbly.

  “Frye and Sullivan or Sullivan and Frye…. Whatever. We open it up in The Lanes and sell my clothes designs and other stuff.”

  “Uh huh and you want me involved because?” I query, doing a damn good impression of the Godfather in the process.

  “You have a degree--no master’s--in Business and Marketing. If we worked together, combined our strengths and talents then the world, well more accurately Brighton and the south coast, could be our oyster.”

  ‘The world could be our oyster’.

  Not the first time I’ve heard that.

  Violet’s face lights up as she talks about the shop idea. I find myself smiling at her enthusiasm for this new project. I’d need to think about it, it’s not that crazy an idea and it might just work. It seems like fate is giving me a chance to live my life on my terms and my terms alone.