by Kyra Lennon
Very slowly, I lifted my head and Ash’s eyes were fixed on me. He reached over and squeezed my hand. “I’m sorry, Evie. I’m sorry you went through all that.”
“Thank you.”
“You seem to have done well at getting your life together though. You have a place to live, your own business.”
“Yeah, that’s the impression I like to give. Reality is a bit more like the me you met in Exeter. Running away from things that terrify me and hoping that happiness will somehow find me.”
“You’re not happy?” He sounded both surprised and saddened by the idea.
“Well, I’m… okay.” I gave him a small smile. “I’m not sad. But life has been better.”
He nodded slowly. “Yeah, I get that.” He watched me again for a moment, as if weighing something up.
“What is it?” I asked gently.
“I was just thinking that… it’s weird how we met. That night we were both in need of someone, and we both found someone.”
He was right. If I hadn’t run out of the club and bumped into him, I would have calmed myself down eventually, but Ash talking to me had sped that process up by a long way. And he would have been okay too, probably, but somehow, in me, he’d found someone he could talk to.
“The night you ran out onto the bridge,” Ash said, his voice dropping. “The night we met. I was sitting up on that ledge thinking that, if it had been higher, I’d have jumped. Ended it all. Nobody would have found me for ages. Natalie’s first thought wouldn’t have been that something was wrong. It would have been that I’d run away. Met someone else. Decided not to come back. Eventually, my body would have shown up somewhere. And she probably wouldn’t have even felt anything.”
My heart that, moments ago had been aching for all I’d lost, suddenly hurt for him.
“Ash,” I whispered.
He shook his head. “It’s okay. I probably wouldn’t have done it. Not really.”
“But I hate that you were in a place that it crossed your mind.”
“Have you ever felt that way?”
I nodded. “Yeah. I… I tried. But I was very lucky, and I’ve never tried or felt that low again.”
That was one thing I never talked about. I remembered. My mum remembered. Keely definitely remembered, because she was the one who had found me, almost dead from a combination of pills and alcohol. It was the biggest wake-up call I’d ever had. The driving force in getting my life back on track. But it was the only event in my life I never mentioned. Not even to the people who were around at the time.
Ash let out a long breath. “Well, Merry fucking Christmas to us.” He raised a piece of pizza in a toast, and I chuckled.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to make this so miserable.”
He shook his head. “I asked. And I’m sorry if I made you think of all those bad times.”
“Don’t worry about it. Something about this time of year brings it all back anyway.”
He nodded. “Yeah, it does. So, what does Christmas look like for you this year? Any plans?”
“Kind of. I always spend Christmas Eve at my friend Keely’s house since the divorce. She and her husband have a few friends over late afternoon until early evening. Sort of a mini party, but quite low key as they have kids they want to put to bed early. I always sleep over at theirs so I can watch the little ones open their gifts in the morning.”
A small pang of longing washed over me as it always did when I thought of how Christmases should have been for me. With my own family. The first Christmas Eve I spent with them after… after. It was soul-destroying in so many ways, but at the same time, I took some comfort in being around such a happy unit, even if it wasn’t my own. There’s always magic in seeing children enjoying Christmas, and that was why I always went there. In a strange way, it helped.
“Do you spend Christmas Day with them too?” Ash asked, and I shook my head.
“Nope. Once the gifts are done, I go to my mum’s and have lunch with her. Which is… nice. I guess.” At Ash’s questioning look, I smiled. “I love spending time with her, but I wish she would take me up on the suggestion of going out to eat. It’s such a lot of work to make Christmas dinner for just the two of us. I guess I don’t see the point when we’re only going to eat it then fall asleep in front of the Queen’s speech.”
Ash laughed, and the sight of his smile warmed me. He should smile more.
“Sounds okay to me,” he said. “Food and a nap. Can’t go wrong there.”
“What do you do at Christmas?” I asked.
The smile faded slowly from his face and he sighed. “I haven’t really celebrated Christmas in a long time. Not like I used to when I was a kid. Mum always made a fuss back then. But when she moved away, I spent most of them working or on my own. Now, with Natalie… I don’t know. Her parents live near London and they wanted us to go there. Well, they wanted her to go there. They don’t approve of me.”
“Why not?” It wasn’t like they’d given birth to a princess.
“I work in a bar. They think I’m not good enough. They forget that Natalie only works in retail, and barely that. Her parents are also not exactly in the big leagues. Her mum’s a hairdresser in a local salon, and her dad is a builder. And there’s nothing wrong with any of that, I just don’t see how they expect me to be bringing in a six figure salary when they definitely aren’t.” He shook his head. “Anyway, I said she could go without me, but that led to an argument about how I never want to do anything with her, which is obviously not true.” That bleakness began to cover his eyes again. The tiredness that always came when he talked about Natalie. “So, we’ll just be at home in the flat, I guess. I somehow managed to get Christmas Eve off, the club is closed on Christmas Day, and I am back in on Boxing Day. God knows what we’ll do but…” he trailed off and shrugged.
That was no kind of life. From the sounds of it, there wasn’t even a Christmas lunch planned for them. Maybe just a day when she wouldn’t break his spirit any further.
“I’ll be okay,” he said, as if sensing my thoughts. “I have to be.”
As bad as I felt about lying about where I was going, or to be precise, why I was going there, I felt better for doing it. I didn’t know what it would be like to spend that much time with Evie because, until then, we’d never really had a lot of time to talk. When we went to Birmingham, we had nothing but time to talk, and before going, I wasn’t sure I could chat for that long. I had wanted to go with her because… I’d felt like she was someone who wasn’t judging me. She’d seen a bit of what Natalie was like, so I didn’t feel like she wouldn’t believe me when I told her how bad she could be. And I knew she had been through stuff of her own so maybe, just maybe, she’d understand.
In the end, we’d talked more about Evie’s past and her divorce. When she told me they’d lost a baby, it put my own issues into perspective. I was just some loser who let his girlfriend walk all over him. Evie and her ex-husband had created a life, and then it was gone. Evie had lost a child and her husband, and the fact that she had the strength to get through all of that… it was pretty amazing to me.
I didn’t mind that we’d talked more about her than me. And some of the time, we hadn’t talked about either of us, just general talk about music and movies. I liked being in a room with someone and knowing that I didn’t have to watch what I was saying. I mean, I still did, out of habit, but she made it easy for me to be more like myself.
But it had to come to an end. We both had to go home, and with Christmas so close, we didn’t make any plans to see each other again. We’d agreed we’d message each other if we saw a tour announcement for a band we wanted to see, but Evie also added that I could message her if I needed someone to talk to. I knew I probably wouldn’t but it was cool of her to offer.
I felt like I had to keep those two parts of my life separate. Natalie and Evie. Not just for the obvious reasons. I appreciated Evie’s kindness, but I didn’t want to always be dumping my crap on her. If
I messaged her over every bad thing that happened, she’d be reading messages from me every day of the week. I liked that she was there for me, but I wanted, needed, for her to be an escape. Someone outside of my day to day life. I wanted to talk to her about things I loved, not my miserable life.
The few days until Christmas Eve went by quickly. Natalie had been her usual confusing self. Sweet one minute, bitchy the next. Situation normal. I’d worked the night before Christmas Eve, so I didn’t wake up until midday the next day, and when I got up, Natalie was sprawled on the sofa, talking to someone on the phone. With limited seating options, and less space than usual because of the Christmas tree, I grabbed a cup of coffee and sat down on the floor between the couch and the coffee table, placing my cup on the table. If Natalie wasn’t there, I’d have put the TV on, but God forbid I disturbed her call, so I sat quietly, hearing her voice but not really listening.
After I’d been there for a few minutes, quietly drinking my coffee, Natalie stood up, letting out an excited squeal, and as she did, she jumped up and down. The speed of her movements made me jump and I shuffled away from her a little so she didn’t stand on me.
That was my first mistake.
She looked down as if she’d only just noticed I was in the room, and as she continued giggling and talking on the phone, she began to pace. She stood on my thighs, walking across them then around the table. The only thing protecting me from the stab of her thin heeled ankle boots was my PJ bottoms, and they were only made of thin material. I winced as she circled around again, once more walking across my thighs.
I wasn’t in the mood for her shit, and I picked up my coffee cup, readying myself to stand and get out of her way before she bruised my legs. This was far from the first time she’d done this—used me as a human carpet—but she didn’t usually have shoes on.
As I started to get up, she dug her heel into my thigh as hard as she could, forcing it, and me, back to the floor, then walked over me again. She didn’t look at me or break her conversation. I breathed out slowly, trying to pretend I didn’t feel anything. Not mentally or physically. The physical pain, in that moment, was a lot harder to ignore because, every time, she walked in the exact same spot, making a bigger indent into my pyjama trousers, and I hated to think what state my leg was in underneath. It was throbbing, but I didn’t move.
Ignore it. It’ll be over soon.
It was all I could ever do to get through whatever she chose to do to me. I slipped back into that vacant part of my mind. The one I lived in most of the time when I was in the flat. The one I went to when I was around her, because it was easier than asking myself the same questions over and over again.
Why did I keep letting her do it?
She circled around another five times before she sat back down on the sofa again, and since she was done, I finally stood up. The tops of my thighs ached and I widened my eyes, trying to force the tears to fuck off. I never cried. Refused to let her emasculate me any more than she already had.
It actually hurt to walk to the kitchen area, but I didn’t stop. I placed my cup in the sink then went to the bathroom and locked the door. Hopefully, she would stay on the phone for a while longer so I could get my head together. Get over the pain. I leaned against the sink, lifting my head to look in the mirror.
Aside from the slight redness around my eyes, nobody looking at me would have known what I went through. Nobody would have known I had a girlfriend who hurt me on a regular basis.
Nobody would have known that I was sick of my life.
Taking a deep breath, I straightened up and lowered my PJ trousers to see what she’d done to me.
My right thigh had a very distinct heel-shaped mark, bright red and embedded into my skin, a bruise already starting to form around it. My left thigh had a similar mark, though not quite as prominent. Both of them hurt like a bitch, and I hoped those marks would fade in time, because I really didn’t want a permanent reminder.
Probably the only Christmas gift you’re going to get.
The thought cut into me like a knife.
What a fucking idiot I was. I’d spent a small fortune on gifts for her. Gifts I’d wrapped and hidden, ready for Christmas morning, in the hope that we’d have one day when things would be good between us. When I didn’t have to censor every word. But from her actions that morning, it didn’t look very likely. And my thought that I probably wouldn’t get a gift from her… God. If she was the girl I first met for one goddamn day, I wouldn’t care. I just wanted a sign that she actually cared.
I didn’t get one.
She spent the rest of her day getting ready for her Christmas Eve night out. I wasn’t invited on this one, and that was fine with me. I didn’t want to be in pubs. I’d have much preferred if she stayed in with me, but that wasn’t an option for her. Being at home alone was preferable to being out with her and her annoying friends. When she left the flat at half past seven, in a cloud of perfume and hairspray, she just about managed to say goodbye. The only thing of note that happened that night was Evie sending me a quick message to wish me a Happy Christmas, and saying that she would message in a few days, once the festivities were over. That was the only thing that made me smile all day. A glimpse of daylight in my dark world.
“Merry Christmas!”
Hands on my arm, shaking me, woke me from my sleep. Through my haze, the clock on the bedside table told me it was two a.m. The stench of alcohol and sweat hit me and made me feel sick. I didn’t even want to look at her.
I’d spent my evening watching crap on TV. I’d even cracked open a couple of beers myself, but I’d only had enough to ease my thoughts, my misery, to a dull hum. I was nowhere near drunk, though, now she’d come back in that state, I wished I’d had a few more.
“Merry Christmas,” I muttered back, trying to turn over away from her. She pulled me back though, grabbing my shoulder and tugging me in her direction. I kept my eyes closed but I could feel her leaning down to kiss me. For a second, I let her, but when she started to pull the covers off me, I stopped her, pulling them back up.
She giggled. “Oh, playing hard to get, are we?” Her leg moved over me, so she was straddling me, and she tried to kiss me again.
“Don’t,” I said, pulling back from her.
I felt her body stiffen before she tried once more, and finally, my eyes opened to glare at her. She looked a fucking state. Her hair was a mess, and one of her fake eyelashes was starting to peel off.
“Get off,” I told her.
Her eyes widened. “What the fuck did you say to me?”
“You heard me.”
She leaned over me, her wine-infused breath blowing all over my face. “Who the hell do you think you are?”
I wasn’t sure what it was about those words that triggered everything, but I shoved her off me and climbed out of bed. It was Christmas Day, for fuck’s sake. She’d been out of the house all night, she hadn’t spoken to me all day, and now she wanted something from me?
“Me?” I shouted. “No, Natalie! Who the hell do you think you are? Because I haven’t fucking recognised you for months!”
I saw the anger beginning to build in her eyes, in her body, and she flew at me, ready to slam her fists into me, but I grabbed her wrists to stop her. I wasn’t sure where my sudden strength had come from, but she was so stunned and furious that I’d stopped her, she spat in my face.
I dropped one of her hands to wipe it away and she slapped me. “Don’t ever fucking do that again!”
“That’s how it’s going to be, is it?” I asked, quietly. “You always having the last word.”
“Yeah.” She nodded. “That’s how it’s going to be.”
I shook my head, walking around the room, unsure of where I was going. All I knew was that I was done. With her. With all of it.
“Don’t sulk,” she said, throwing herself into the bed. “Jesus, I just wanted to have some fun, but you’re obviously in a mood so forget it.”
A mood. I was in a moo
d.
“You need to leave,” I told her.
The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them, and even though I knew I’d regret them, I didn’t care anymore. I didn’t care if she stayed or walked out. Didn’t care what she did to me.
Didn’t care if she killed me.
I just wanted it to end. I was sick of her making me feel worthless. Of knowing that, outside, there were people who were actually going to wake up in the morning, happy it was Christmas. Happy to be with people they loved. But she didn’t love me. Nobody did.
“What did you say?” She sat up slowly, fixing her gaze on me.
I shrugged. “Why are you even here? You never talk to me unless you want something.”
She rolled her eyes. “You sound like a fucking girl. Grow some balls, you pathetic waste of space.”
“If that’s how you feel, why do you stay?” I asked, advancing towards her onto the bed. I didn’t touch her. I just knelt beside her, hoping to get some answers.
“Because I feel sorry for you,” she said with a small laugh. “Nobody else would have you, and let’s face it, we both know I could do better, but you… you wouldn’t cope without me.”
“I cope without you every day.” My tone had lowered, defeat washing over me.
