by Kyra Lennon
“I’m up for that. I have other games, definitely some two player stuff, and I’m not working again until around January fifth.”
She stretched her legs out in front of her, leaning her head back against the top of the chair as if she was relishing the idea of more time off. I liked how relaxed she was in her own surroundings.
Maybe she was right. As much as I hated the idea of encroaching on her space, being there, in her house, was much better than being in one room in a B&B. I’d have someone to talk to, more room to move about, a garden. I hadn’t had a garden to sit in for years, other than beer gardens when I was a uni student. That seemed like so long ago.
“You wanna play now?” she asked, looking over at me. “We have literally nothing else planned, and today has been stressful. I say we play for a while, and order a takeaway later because I have no desire to cook right now.”
I studied her, and I was sure there was amusement on my face. For someone who suffered with anxiety and stress, she was one of the most chilled out people I’d ever met when she was comfortable. It helped, because even though I’d relaxed a bit, I was still tense. I could feel it in all of my muscles. With Evie being so calm, and not making me staying there into a big deal, I was sure it would calm me down too.
“I could do with the distraction,” I said, sitting up and resting my cup on the table beside me. Then I looked over at her again. “Bring it on!”
As I lay on my bed, watching some TV show I wasn’t paying attention to on my laptop, I thought about the day.
I hadn’t planned on inviting Ash to stay. I mean, I had considered it briefly when Mum had been grilling me about him, but I never thought I’d really do it. It wasn’t because I didn’t know him that well; I’d bought him underwear, the ship of considering him almost a stranger had well and truly sailed. It was more that I wasn’t used to having someone else in my space. I’d lived alone for two years, and while it had taken a lot of getting used to, I had got used to it. I liked having a place that was just mine, where I could work, or laze around in my pyjamas if I felt like it. Nobody to tell me I had to wash the dishes, or do the ironing. Nobody expecting food on the table in time for them finishing work. I had my own schedule and I liked it that way.
Having Ash to stay, though, wasn’t the same as living with a partner. In fact, so far, it was like having a best friend over. A somewhat broken and healing best friend, but I’d caught more than one glimpse of a smile as we played video games, and there had even been some laughing as he’d beaten me a few times. While I knew those smiles were genuine, I also knew they would be short-lived. Everything Ash was doing was just to keep his mind off the painful stuff, both memories and injuries. But it was good to see him smile all the same.
If I was honest, I’d been doing the same thing too. Trying to do things to forget the constant presence of Jay. Since telling him I didn’t want to see him, he hadn’t called or text again, but I knew he was close and it put me on edge. The house I lived in wasn’t the same one I’d shared with him, but I knew he knew where I was. I kept expecting at any minute that the doorbell would ring and I’d be faced with my past; a past I was still recovering from. I’d be glad when New Year came and I knew he’d be gone again.
Unless he was planning to move back now he’d split with Julia.
Shit. That hadn’t occurred to me before. God, if he came back to live locally, I’d have to consider moving. The last thing I wanted was to be afraid every time I left my house that I’d bump into him. To the person all of my worst memories were connected to. It wasn’t that I viewed him in a negative light. He’d probably cheated on me, but I’d pushed him away. And that’s not a good reason to cheat—there’s never good reason for that, but our relationship was already well on its way out. It was just the fear of feeling the ache from what we used to have. It was low level inside me every day of my life. Having him nearby would only make it stronger.
A soft knock on my door interrupted my thoughts, and I said, “Come in.”
Ash opened the door a crack and peered inside.
“Sorry,” he said, glancing at my open laptop with Netflix playing. “I’ll go.”
“No. It’s okay.” I hit pause and closed the laptop lid, placing it on the bed. “What’s up?”
He shrugged, and I noticed the difference in his expression. When he’d gone to his room over an hour ago, his mood had been a lot lighter, but now, his eyes looked heavy again.
He’d been left alone too long with his thoughts.
“Come in,” I said again, and I shuffled across to the side of the bed as he walked in. I’d changed into my retro My Little Pony pyjamas, not expecting to see him again that night, and he eyed them but didn’t say anything, way too lost in his own mind. He was wearing a pair of plain dark blue pyjama bottoms and the t-shirt he’d been wearing earlier, which was now crumpled, and I guessed he’d throw it back on before he left his room. “Sit down.”
He perched on the edge of the bed, head down. “Sorry,” he said quietly. “I didn’t want to disturb you, but I… I don’t know.”
My heart hurt as I saw how down he was, and how fast it had happened.
“Stay there,” I said gently. “I’m gonna go make us some tea, and then we can talk.” I stood up and walked around the bed to the door, and as I reached it, I said, “Please, relax. Make yourself comfortable and I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
I heard him move a little as I left the room, but I was pretty sure he wouldn’t fully relax on my bed. I was proved right when I returned carrying two cups of tea to find him sitting a bit farther back, but his feet still firmly on the floor.
In order not to spend the whole time talking to his back if I sat where I’d been when he came in, I placed his cup on the bedside table then sat on the edge of the bed beside him. He turned towards me.
“Thanks,” he said, running a hand through his hair and letting out a long breath. “I’m sorry. You know when your brain just takes over?”
I nodded. “I do. And what was your brain telling you?”
“Same as usual. That the fact I’m homeless is my fault. That I should have been a better boyfriend. That nobody will ever want me and I should just go back to Natalie because at least she could put up with me.”
That ache spasmed in my chest with his words. I knew that these thoughts were deeply engrained into him now, but at the same time, I could also see that after her additional assault on his personal belongings, he didn’t truly want to go back there. But I hated knowing the thought of being with her to avoid being alone somehow, however briefly, had crossed his mind.
“Ash,” I said gently. “I wish this process of getting over everything she put you through could be faster. But the truth is, stopping those thoughts is going to take some time. A lot of time.”
He nodded. “I know. And I do feel better than I did when I was first in hospital.” He looked up at me. “Evie, if she hadn’t killed me that night, I would have done it myself. When she came in and she was so drunk and acting like everything was normal, I’d had enough. Of her, and us, and myself. I told her it was over between us, but maybe I meant it was over for me. Like… everything. Not just the relationship, but my life.” He paused for a second. “And here’s the irony. Natalie almost killed me. But I was found. If she hadn’t done what she did… I wouldn’t be here.”
I let his words sink in.
That really was ironic. Knowing how close he was to ending his own life made me hurt, like bone deep hurt for him and how she’d belittled him for so long that he’d reached that point. There was no excuse for what she did to him on Christmas Eve, but without it happening… he’d be gone.
“That’s where it messes with my head,” he said. Then he let out a humourless chuckle. “I’m a fucking mess. She hit me, kicked me, literally walked all over me, told me I was worthless and yet, I still feel like I owe her something. There is still something in me that wants to go over there right now and apologise and beg her to take me back.
What the fuck is wrong with me, Evie?”
A tear dripped down his cheek and I wanted to wrap my arms around him and hold him tight. Although he was less jumpy when I touched him now, I still didn’t want to push it.
“There’s nothing wrong with you,” I told him, placing my hand lightly over his. “You just… you need to work through it all.”
What I wanted to do was tell him not to let those voices in his head overwhelm him so much that he really did go back, but it wasn’t my place to tell him what to do. All I could do was be there for him while he figured it out.
His hand turned over, his fingers entwining with mine, and I held it a little tighter, hoping to let him know he wasn’t alone. He started to turn towards me a bit more, and opened his mouth as if to speak, but as he moved, his elbow hit the cup of tea I’d placed on the bedside table and spilled all over the floor, some of it landing on his pyjama trousers and a little hitting my bare feet.
We both jumped up; me in surprise and him in complete panic as he backed away from me towards the bedroom door, his face pale and eyes wide. He was so focused on me, on my reaction, that he didn’t even pull the hot, wet material from his skin.
“Evie.” His voice was breathy. “I’m so sorry. I… I’ll clean it up. I…” Words seemed to fail him as he started to leave the room—a pointless task since he had no idea where I kept any of my cleaning supplies.
“Ash, wait,” I said, my feet taking a couple of hurried steps towards him, causing him to back up more onto the landing, his hands up.
I stopped in my tracks. He was shaking. Totally trembling, like he wasn’t seeing me anymore, but her. My own heart hammered, my hands quivering because everything had happened so suddenly.
Instead of moving or speaking any more, I kept my eyes on him, trying to convey that it was okay. That it was only me, and within a minute or so, his body relaxed, sagging before dropping to the floor on his knees.
I gave him another thirty seconds or so before approaching him, and when I did, I sat down on the floor in front of him, legs crossed, waiting until he was ready to raise his head.
“Sorry,” he said, still not looking at me. “Sorry I ruined your carpet.”
“I don’t give a fuck about my carpet,” I said, keeping my tone even. The use of the f-word caused him to finally look up since I didn’t use it very often. “I do, however, care about you. So, while I know it’s going to take a while for you to believe it, and to trust me, I want you to know that I’m never going to do anything to hurt you. Ever. If you spill something, or you break something while you’re here… it happens. But even if it was my most treasured possession, Ash, I would never, ever lash out.”
He nodded, his eyes still wide but softer. “I know. I know.”
When I’d first moved into Evie’s house, I was worried. Worried it would be awkward, or difficult, or that we’d run out of things to say to each other, but I’d been panicking over nothing. Evie was… she was the same at home as she was all the times I’d met her in public. She didn’t change her personality to suit her surroundings, she was just herself. Me? I was trying to be myself. And it was getting easier. Times when I wasn’t thinking about Natalie, when Evie and I were playing video games, or making dinner, or just chatting, I felt more relaxed. It was when I was alone that it was harder to cast out the bad thoughts.
I still hadn’t really treated Evie’s place like it was my own, and I knew I probably never would, because it wasn’t mine. I think she noticed how careful I was with everything. The night I’d spilled the tea in her room… for a second, I was right back at the flat, with Natalie looming over me, telling me I was a fucking klutz, waiting for her to push me to the floor and push my face into the mess I’d made before telling me to clean it up.
Yes. That happened.
But Evie wasn’t her. Evie had waited for me to calm down, made me a new cup of tea while I changed my trousers, and then cleaned up the mess while talking to me as if nothing had even happened.
If anything was making life easier, it was her. I knew I wouldn’t be able to rely on her forever, but she’d said I could stay for at least the next three weeks, while I recovered from the worst of my injuries and didn’t have to go to work. I was still in a lot of pain from my ribs and the back of my neck, but the bruising and cuts everywhere else were starting to go down. But more importantly than that, I felt calmer. I was far from ready to be back at work, but there was something, like a weight had been lifted off me where I felt safe to be myself for the first time in a long time.
On the morning of New Year’s Eve, I was sitting in the kitchen with a mug of coffee when Evie walked in, with a weird smile on her face. It was almost nervous-looking, but also slightly excited, and the expression made me laugh.
“What’s going on?” I asked as she sat down in the chair beside mine.
“I have a confession.” Her leg bounced up and down, smile still on her face. “Remember when I told you I have a list of things I want to do? And that one of them was to get a tattoo?”
“Yeah, I remember.”
“Well… when I was in town the other day, I might have… kind of… booked myself in for one. Today. This afternoon.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Wow. Go you.”
She chuckled. “I have a favour to ask.” She stopped bouncing her leg around and looked me in the eye. “I know you haven’t been out of here since you arrived, and it’s probably a lot to ask, but I’m nervous about this. I wondered if you might want to come with me? Just be there in case I pass out or throw up or something?”
She was absolutely right. I hadn’t left the house in days; something I felt pretty bad about. Evie had gone out a few times to get shopping, and I wanted to go, to contribute, but I wasn’t quite ready to leave the safe space I was in. For the first time in a long time, I felt okay. I wasn’t thinking about Natalie as much. I wasn’t always expecting a random blow or kick to hit me, and going outside, even for a little while, would shatter that. It wasn’t that I was thinking anyone would hurt me if I left the house, just that the peace of being there was starting to settle in and I wanted to make the most of that for as long as I could.
But this was different. This time, Evie needed something, and there was no way I could refuse. I didn’t want to. It was nowhere near enough to make up for all she’d done for me, but this was all I could do for the time being. I didn’t even need to think about it.
“Of course,” I said. “I can do that.”
“Thank you.” She let out a sigh of relief. “I’m excited to do it, but also, I’m so scared. I don’t really do pain, or needles or anything like that.”
“I don’t think anyone does,” I said. “Especially not needles.” I shuddered at the thought.
Evie picked up a coaster from the middle of the table and began turning it around in her hands. “I have one more thing I wanted to ask you, but on this one, if you say no, I promise I will understand. I mean, I would have understood if you’d said no to the tattoo thing too, but this one-”
I laughed again, interrupting her rambling, and she grimaced, pushing a strand of hair back from her face. “What is it?” I asked.
“So, every year, my friend Keely and her husband, Nick, have a New Year’s Eve party at their house.” I felt my shoulders clench before she’d even finished, but she quickly held up a hand. “It’s not a big deal. It’s usually just friends who live on the same street and some family members, and most of them have kids so, while it’s quite a house full, it’s nothing too wild. There’ll be drinks and snacks and music. Mostly people just sit around, chatting, having a laugh. I go every year, but I really don’t want to leave you on your own on New Year’s Eve so… do you want to come?”
There was a huge difference between going to sit with Evie while she had a tattoo and facing a bunch of strangers at a party. I knew for sure that some of Evie’s friends knew what had been happening with me, and I doubted they would judge, but I hated people knowing. Doesn’t matter how open
-minded people claim to be, there’s still a stigma about men who get beaten up by women.
“Okay,” she said after a minute, still grimacing. “Probably too much too soon, right?”
I nodded. “I think so. I’m sorry. I just don’t think I’m ready.”
She gave me a warm smile. “I understand. Will you think I’m a terrible person if I go? I won’t stay until midnight, but I should still drop in for a drink.”
“Evie, it’s fine if you want to stay until midnight. I ruined your Christmas, so I would rather not do the same for your New Year’s Eve. You deserve to have fun.”
She shook her head. “First of all, you didn’t ruin anything, and second of all, I would never allow anyone to see the New Year in alone if I could help it. So, I’ll go, but I’ll be back before half past eleven so we have time to grab a drink.”
I wasn’t sure if she was just being polite or if she really didn’t mind going home early, but either way, I appreciated it. I wasn’t in a place where I would do anything to hurt myself anymore, but I knew I’d probably start thinking about Natalie and Christmas and… that never led to anything good.
A couple of hours later, Evie and I were sitting next to each other in the tattoo shop, and Evie was skimming through a book of possible ink designs while I glanced around. The shop was only small, but when Evie told me the name of it, I did some research online and found out that, even though it was tiny, it was considered the best place in town. It was hard to tell from the lack of customers, but I figured New Year’s Eve was probably not a popular tattoo day with most people planning to go out later. The walls of the shop were covered in artwork for tattoos and photographs of, I guessed, tattoos they had done in the past. There were two men in the shop. One was behind the counter, and all I could see of him from my position was the top of his head. The other was the one who had greeted Evie and chatted to her when she came in. His name was Dave, and I think he’d sensed her nerves. He’d made us both some coffee, in the hope of calming her down.
