by A. S. Kelly
I need to breathe.
I look down, because I can’t tell him what I need to while looking him in the eyes.
“I’m sorry, Ian – but I could never love a man like you.”
The door slams hard behind him and I know that this really is the last time.
72
Ian
“Get up!”
A pillow lands on my head.
“I said get up!”
I open one eye and then close it right away. No. Not my arsehole brother, not now.”
“Move your arse.”
“Fuck off, Ryan.”
“You haven’t been to the gym or been home in days. I’m worried about you.”
“I’m sick.”
He sits on the bed and hits me again with a pillow that feels about as soft as a brick.
“Are you crazy?!” I yell, hearing my skull explode.
“You can’t just give up on everything.”
“Mind your own business.”
“You can’t do all this just for a woman.”
“Are you being serious?”
“You can’t make the same mistake I did, I won’t let you.”
I sit on the edge of the bed while Ryan hands me a cup of coffee.
“Do you even know what day it is?”
“Do you think I give a shit?”
Ryan sighs in frustration. “I warned you. You should have listened to me. If you really cared about her so much, you should have told her the truth right away.”
“I don’t need one of your ‘I told you so’s’.”
“You never need anything,” he says through gritted teeth.
“I wish that was true.”
I stand up, and he mirrors me.
“What happened to this house?” he asks alluding to the damage that lies everywhere, the broken furniture, the smashed glass.
“Come on, I’ll give you a hand cleaning up.”
“What’s the point? She’s not coming back. I’m alone again.”
“You landed on your feet once, you’ll do it again. Like me. Are we or are we not O’Connors?”
I give a tight smile.
“It’ll pass,” he says, putting a hand on my shoulder.
“Has it passed for you?”
“In some ways; you need to go on.”
“She doesn’t love me, Ryan.”
“I know how that feels.”
“How do you get by? How do you go on, knowing that your heart won’t work like it did before, that your life won’t ever be complete?”
“You just survive. And you cling on to what’s left. Rugby, the team, your family.”
It seems like I’ve gone back in time, but now our roles are reversed.
“I wish that could be enough.”
“I’d like to tell you that one day it won’t hurt so much, that you’ll find someone else and all of this will be an old memory for you, but I’m not so sure. But you’ve been through it once, and you found your way out of it.”
“It’s different this time.”
“What makes you think so?”
“I just know.”
“What do you think about having a shower now? Or have you smashed that up too?”
“I think it’s still standing.”
Only because it doesn’t remind me of her.
“Make yourself presentable, I’ll start picking up.”
“Thanks, Ryan.”
He shrugs. “You’re my brother.”
“You know that’s not true.”
“You always have been.”
I nod, avoiding a response because I can barely keep it together. I could go back to breaking things like a sobbing, pathetic little boy, but none of those options seem sensible to me.
I get under the shower and let the water clear my thoughts.
Riley doesn’t want me. Riley doesn’t love me. Riley has abandoned me.
Just like they all do.
I let myself be manipulated and destroyed by a pair of sad eyes and a body that seems tailor-made for me.
I feel like an idiot for thinking I could have her, love her. But no one can be held down, even if you beg them to stay.
I’ll never make that mistake again. I never want to feel that pain again, even if this time it’s worse.
It’s all-consuming. It’s like a massacre.
This time it was different. This time I really believed in it.
73
Riley
“You could have stayed home for a few days. You’re not looking so hot.”
“It’s just the flu,” I justify to Kate. “And the New Year show’s coming up. It’s important.”
“So’s your health.”
“A little bit of fever never killed anyone.”
Kate looks at me, perplexed. I can tell she wants to say more, but the topic has become taboo between us. No one will say the words ‘Ian O’Connor’.
“Here,” Ray comes into my office, bringing me a cup of tea. “You have to try and get this down.”
“My stomach is in knots,” I say turning my face the other way.
Ray sighs in frustration and places the tea on my desk before leaving me alone. I try sitting at the computer, but my headache and constant nausea don’t help. I look at the tea and think, maybe a sip wouldn’t hurt, but as soon as I put the mug to my lips I’m overcome with another wave of nausea.
I cover my mouth and run to the bathroom, kneeling down in front of the toilet, but the only thing that comes out are a few choking coughs. I’m not surprised, I haven’t eaten in days.
I lift myself up as best I can and go back to where I was, with the intention of going home and trying not to think about the weight I’ve got on my heart.
I get in a taxi after having promised Ray that I’ll jump right in bed and that I’ll call him if I need anything. He even offered to stay over so I didn’t have to spend the night alone, but I don’t want to ruin anyone’s plans tonight, especially his. He’s started going out recently with a guy who’s really got his life together – the kind of guy that doesn’t lie to you or leave you with an empty heart.
At home, I get undressed and put on a tracksuit, planning to crawl back under the covers and die of starvation, but someone knocks on my door so I’m forced to postpone my plans.
I know it’s not him. He’d never come back after what I told him.
I slowly open the door and stick my nose out when two familiar eyes surprise me.
“Hi Riley.”
“Ryan?”
“I dropped by to see how you were doing.”
“If he sent you here—”
“I’m not here for him, I’m here for you. Can I come in?”
I let him in, but as soon as I do, Jamie’s guilty smile hits me.
“You’re a traitor Ryan O’Connor! You’re all the same.” I turn and try to go back to bed quickly but I no longer have the energy, not even to get angry.
“Are you ill?” Jamie’s questions follow me, as he takes my arm.
“Just a bit of flu.”
“You could have called me, I’d have come over.”
I look at him sideways.
“I know that you love me,” he smiles tenderly.
“You’re a traitor, too.”
“Come on, I’ll put you to bed.”
I accept, even though all I want to do right now is slap him silly but I’m too weak to act out.
He tucks me in and stands there, watching me. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not enough,” I say crossing my arms.
Then I look at Ryan. “You know, don’t you?”
Ryan shrugs. “He only told me because he was in pieces. He needed to vent.”
“He was in pieces?” I say furiously.
Jamie takes my hand, forcing me to look at him. “He still is, even now.”
I bite my lip hard and start shaking.
“I didn’t want to betray your trust – or his.”
“I really doubt that…”
/> “You shouldn’t,” Ryan says, interrupting our discussion. “My brother has a lot of flaws, but lying isn’t one of them.”
I sink back into my pillows and into my discomfort. I don’t like that my life is being discussed by a group.
“Is it true?” Ryan continues.
“What?”
“What you told him.”
I sigh.
“I just want to know if it’s true.”
“It doesn’t matter anymore.”
“It does matter.”
“Ian and I weren’t meant to be together. It was a mistake, right from the start.”
“I agree with you,” he says honestly. “And I think it’s a load of bullshit – but that’s my opinion. My brother seems to think otherwise.”
“Your brother lied to me.”
“He really fucked things up.”
“He hurt me.”
“I’m sorry about that. I know how it feels.”
“He’s not who I thought he was.”
“I don’t imagine he is. People never are,” he says bitterly. “And he doesn’t believe in people, never has. Sometimes he doesn’t even believe in himself. He seems like a rock but I assure you, Ian’s just a little pebble in the middle of a big sea.”
I breathe slowly in fear that the pain will take me away with it.
“I don’t like you, Riley.”
“Wow, thanks.”
“Don’t take it personally, it’s not your fault, I just don’t believe in women. But he believed in you – he still does believe in you and I’m his brother and I love him. I think what’s good for him is you.”
I bite my lip, anxious.
“You don’t know much about him, do you?”
“I know about his mother and the situation with your father,” I say uncertainly.
“And do you know what he’s done for us over the years? What he does for our family? How he takes care of my parents while Nick and I are busy hating each other? How he helped me?”
I shake my head.
“Can I tell you about it?”
“I won’t change my mind about him.”
“Maybe not, but before saying that he’s not the person you thought he was, you should know what kind of person he really is.”
74
Ian
I’m back to living my life, back to the routine I had before her.
I take all my emotion out in the gym, on the field when I can, but I’m still a disaster. The coach keeps threatening to bench me, and I just take it and bury it because I don’t know what else to do.
Not even sport has the same meaning for me that it once did.
Sitting on the bench and looking ahead of me, Jamie comes to sit by my side.
“Okay, I pretended for a while, but now I have to tell you what I have to say,” Jamie starts with a low, serious voice. “This is just a warning, but it could become permanent.”
“You can do what you want, Jamie.”
“The problem is, I don’t want to. The team doesn’t want to. Neither do the coach or the president, for God’s sake.”
I shrug.
“In two weeks, we’re going to begin training for the Nationals, Ian. Do you really want to throw this all away? How hard have you worked to be here? How long have you waited for the call?”
“My whole life,” I say through gritted teeth.
“Exactly. And now you’re throwing it all in the shitter.”
“It’s just a shitty time.”
“Think about your family, your father.”
I close my eyes suddenly.
“How are things going at home?”
“There are good days and terrible ones.”
He puts his hand on my shoulder. “Have you seen her?”
I shake my head.
“Mmm?”
“Okay, yes. I’ve seen her passing by.”
“In passing you say? Someone told me you go to Parnell street every day.”
“What?!” I say, jumping to my feet a little too quickly. “Who the hell…?”
But there’s no need for him to tell me.
Fucking Ryan. Now I really would like that chainsaw.
“He’s worried about you. We all are.”
“No need. I’m all grown up and I don’t need anyone checking up on me or giving me pep talks.”
“That’s true,” he says standing up. “You don’t need it. You don’t need anything, do you?”
“Nope.”
“She’s not well. Again. She’s really angry with me but she’ll get over it. She can’t keep it up forever.”
“We shouldn’t have gone behind her back. I shouldn’t have.”
“I know, and I feel responsible. I want to fix things somehow.”
“I don’t think it’s possible to fix anything. She hates me, Jamie. She doesn’t want me.”
“Both of those points are laughable.”
“She made it very clear. She could never be in love with someone like me.”
“And you believed it? I didn’t think you were that gullible.”
“I don’t know what to believe right now.”
“In yourself,” he says seriously. “You have to believe in yourself and you’ll see that things’ll work out.”
“I’m not so sure of that.”
“Have faith, okay? Give her some time to come to terms with it, you’ll see that she’ll be reasonable, will be ready to clear things up. In the meantime, try not to let yourself go too much and don’t give up all hope. You’re not the giving up kind, Ian O’Connor.”
“Well, it would appear that I’m not that tough,” I say, resignedly.
“You really are. Now, let’s get ready, training awaits.”
He smiles as he walks away from me, leaving the changing room and heading to the gym.
I stay on the bench, staring into the emptiness that I’m waiting to pass, so that I can start to concentrate on my life again.
So that I can start working out and training seriously, so that I can focus my mind on the championship, the national team. So that I can think about my family and my two arsehole brothers.
So that I can think about me. Just about myself.
I have to go back, rewind the tape. Erase. Forget.
I won’t let any other woman get so close to me. I won’t look beyond the physical. Won’t dig into their hearts. Won’t let them take everything and leave me with fuck all.
No one will ever do it again.
She opens the glass door and goes down the stairs slowly, bundled up in her coat, closed away in her hiding place. Just like every other day.
She doesn’t look around, doesn’t notice anything, doesn’t hear anything. Exactly like me.
She walks distractedly down the street and crosses at the traffic light, going almost the entire way down O’Connell Street. She stops outside the window of a Starbucks.
She waits there.
Then she continues down the street, going into Kylemore.
Just like she does every day.
She disappears into the crowd, then I see her sitting at a table, alone in the most secluded corner of the place.
She endlessly stirs her drink, staring at her cup. Then she stops and rests her spoon on the table.
Just like she does every day.
She doesn’t drink it. She doesn’t lift her eyes. She doesn’t breathe.
Exactly like me.
She sits there for an hour doing nothing but surviving me.
I stay outside for an hour doing nothing but surviving her.
When she leaves the building, she heads back towards Parnell Street, to the theatre, as I hide away like a delinquent and keep watching her, spying on her: feeling her even if she can’t feel me.
Like every other fucking day.
I watch her walk away slowly, weaving between the crowd, as I feel my heart getting smaller and smaller every minute.
I follow her steps towards Parnell Street, grab my motorbike that I left parked by
Chinatown, and I jump on, ready to face another day of pretending that everything’s fine, that I’m fine, that nothing’s happened. That I’m not slowly dying.
Like every fucking other day.
Exactly like her.
75
Riley
“You’re still not well.”
“It’s just hanging on a bit.”
“I haven’t seen you eat in days, Riley.”
“It’s this damn virus.”
“Have you been to a doctor?”
I look at him sideways.
“You should,” Ray tells me, sitting on my bed and biting into his sandwich.
“Don’t you have a life?”
“I like being here.”
“To torment me.”
“If you like…”
I try to smile but my stomach protests and suggests that maybe it would be better to defer.
“Aren’t you drinking, either?”
“I’m sick.”
“Er…”
“What?”
“Are you sure it’s the flu?”
“Oh, come on, Ray!”
He raises his hands and doesn’t push it.
“And no news?”
I glare at him.
“You know I follow the team.”
“So?”
“He’s missed three games. They haven’t called him up.”
“That means nothing.”
“He’s their best player, in every sense.”
“Ray.”
“It’s true, he always plays from the first minute.”
“Maybe he got hurt.”
“They would have said so, dear. A journalist tried to ask him some questions after the last match but the press is keeping quiet about him. It would appear that his spot on the national team is on the line.”
I shake my head. “That can’t be my fault.”
“No, certainly not, maybe he’s had other problems.”
His reflection brings me back to what Ryan had said.
“What is it?”
“Nothing,” I lie.
“Something you don’t want to tell me.”
“It’s private.”
“Er…”
“I don’t want to talk about it. It’s not about me.”
