by Duggan, K A
“Fliss, you look exhausted. Come and lie down. Remember you’re carrying precious cargo now. I want you both healthy.”
“About that…” she starts and my heart falls “Never mind.” She says and for once I don’t push her because I know what she was about to say would break my heart. I’m attached to our baby already. I’m excited now, baby names are on my brain constantly.
“Been a long day, huh?” I ask as she presses into my side
“Ash, my family dynamics are crazy. Are you sure you want to stick around?”
“All families are messed up. It’s not your family I love, anyway, it’s you. You can’t scare me off.”
“What if you found out I used to be a man?”
“That’s not the first time you’ve made reference to being male. I have to say though, if you were, the surgeons did a bloody good job on you.”
“Tell me something about you that I don’t know.” She asks, looking up at me.
“I’ve been having parent troubles too,” I admit as I brush her hair away from her face.
She wriggles in my arms “You have? Why what’s wrong?”
“Long story short?”
She nods, eager for more information about me, “Well, like your mother, my dad had the crazy notion that I’d work for him and one day take over the business. When I told him I wanted to be a writer… we had words which caused a rift. The apartment was a gift, originally. He bought it and presented it to me for my birthday but as soon as I didn’t do what he wanted, didn’t adhere to the path he set out for me, he told me I have to pay for it – which is why I needed a onesie wearing flatmate.”
She hugs me tighter, and stares up at me, “I knew fate was on my side. My shitty news about my mum led me to you, but your need for funds pulled me to you as well. We were inevitable.”
“I told you we were. We’re too irresistible.” I kiss her long and slow, amazed at her resilience. She’s been dealt a shit show today, yet here she lies next to me, seemingly relaxed and content. I’m starting to realise she wears a front. Her coping mechanisms are flight, mask or ignore and they’re not healthy. She can’t always flee and run away, she can’t always hide behind a mask and she can’t ignore the issues she needs to deal with.
Her upbringing was clearly not normal but when it’s all you’ve ever known, you don’t know any different. Looking after a sick parent through her teenage years is something I can’t comprehend. Today was her ultimate wake up call. It started months ago when she took the first step to break out of her cage and find me. Fliss emerged in the time we spent together, she completely came out of her shell, her confidence soared. And now after piecing together why her parents were so hellbent on keeping her from the real world, she’s truly awake, truly aware and truly able to move forward.
I’m just hoping I’ll still fit with this new life she forges for herself.
* * *
The shift I feared, took hold regardless.
It was probably inevitable but still, it feels like a right hook to the gut.
Days have passed since Fliss found out the circumstances surrounding her birth. She’s become increasingly distant with me and in turn I’ve tied myself up in knots worrying my fears are about to be recognised. Might as well face it head-on instead of this dancing around it.
Because let’s face it, she doesn’t know how to dance, her moves are jerky and uncoordinated. They don’t make sense. I have to be the one to broach this and I’m going in with caution.
“What’s wrong, Fliss? I know you’ve had a lot to deal with, that’s an understatement, but you’re shutting me out. You’re distant with me and I don’t know how to help. Talk to me.” I plead
She looks up from the book she’s reading “I’m sorry.” She says and turns back to her fucking book.
Cold as ice.
It’s all I ever hear. “I’m sorry.” I mimic “That’s all you say. Why does it feel like you’re pulling away?” I inhale and hold, when I release it’s on a whispered confession “It feels like I’m losing you.”
She sighs as she adjusts on the armchair, curling her legs beneath herself and reluctantly angling my way “Ash I love you. I do. If I’m certain of anything right now it’s that…”
“Why can I hear a but coming?”
Her gaze drops “Because I’ve realised something these last few days and haven’t known how to break it to you.”
I steel myself. This sounds a whole lot like a breakup speech. “How about you just say it?”
Her eyes whip up to meet mine, resolve aimed my way, “I need you to go back home for a while.”
I thought I was ready for the direction this conversation was heading in, I was braced for it but still, hearing her say the words crush me. It guts me.
“What?!” It is the only word I’m able to get out. Un fucking believable.
“Ash, time became blurred for me. It was running out so quickly for my mum that I felt I had to speed up too. That’s why I came to you. But I set out with better intentions than that for you. Now I need it to slow down again. I need to catch up to everything that’s happened, all the ridiculous revelations. I need to know who Fliss is before the next shock comes along. And I need to do it alone. I need to truly figure out who I am, what I’m capable of without relying on others. Without relying on you. That scared me before. Being alone. I did everything in my power to avoid it. But I think it will be good for me now. In the end, it’ll be good for us.”
I shake my head, I’m still in a state of shock. I look over at her, and finally some emotion is shown. She’s affected by this conversation as well, her watery eyes let me see that much. “I can’t believe this.” I tell her
“I’m just asking for some time. I don’t want to lose you. But when you’re here my thoughts are consumed by you. I can’t breathe, Ash. That’s the intensity of my feelings. I need to know they weren’t just manufactured out of desperation and because I thought you were all I had. You need me to be your equal and right now I’m not up to scratch, but I want to be for you. I have work to do and you can’t help.”
“For God's sake, Fliss. There’s nothing wrong with you. You don’t need to work on yourself or any of the other shit you just said. You don’t need to do anything other than be who you already are.”
She shakes her head, disappointed that I don’t get it, “But I don’t know who I am. I pray it isn’t who I’ve been because she was a liar, she used people. She wasn’t a nice person. I’ve always been dictated to, directed, commanded and been expected to be a certain way. I’ve had staff that did everything for me. I’ve never had to stand on my own two feet. The minute I had to I wasn’t ready for it, but now I am. I’ve matured so much and that’s thanks to you, but I still have a long way to go.”
“You don’t honestly think I’m going to desert you while you’re carrying my child do you? You need space that’s fine, I’ll sleep in a different room, but I can’t fly back to Ireland.”
“You have to, Ash. I don’t want to send you away, God knows this will be easier with you by my side, but in the long run, it will be detrimental. I need to find my way without relying on someone else to give me the answers. How am I supposed to raise a child based on the example I was set? I won’t even be able to cook for it because I never learnt how. I’m weeks away from turning 20 and I don’t know how to use a washing machine or how to pay bills. I’ve never done something as simple and mundane as putting the rubbish out. What can I teach this child if I don’t start educating myself on ordinary day to day tasks as opposed to languages I’ll never use?”
I can see her mind is made up. I could push back. I want to. But I know whatever argument I put forward won’t sway her and I’m not into begging. She wants me to leave, fine. I’ll fucking leave. I won’t stay where I’m not wanted. Where I’m not needed. I’ll make this easy for her, but I won’t be decent about it, “Dress it up however you like, Fliss. Convince yourself those are the reasons if you need to. It’s about time I went ho
me anyway.” I rise from my chair, leave the room, slamming the door behind me as I do.
Felicity
Current mood – Thinking clearly… finally
Regret level – Visiting regrets r us regularly
Asking Ash to leave cut me to the quick. Sometimes the best decisions are the hardest and we have to do what we must to achieve what we need. There was no way around it. Because I had to learn to be alone. I had to learn to function without creating toxicity with those I claimed to love.
See, that’s where I was wrong. I thought I loved him from afar, from the safety of my computer screen. But all I loved was the idea of him. The idea of us. I needed those interactions with someone unobtainable to dull the pain I was in, but it allowed me to create a fantasy so beyond reach when it did become in touching distance I thought I’d achieved all I ever wanted.
Make-believe can never hold up to the harsh light of day.
I didn’t know what love was until I left him, until he found me again. My interpretation of love came from Disney films, princesses and heroes. It was a childish naivety. Real-life isn’t at all like that. And like he once said to me – love isn’t the be-all and end-all. It’s a great starting point, but to make a relationship work there are so many other facets that need to go into it.
It’s taken a while but I’m finally making moves, literally. I put my parents home up for sale. Gerry was happy to retire which made that particular decision easier. I purchased my first home from the sale, not to mention my inheritance was a large sum. My home is a modest 3 bedroom and is perfect for my needs. I still own Montgomery’s manuscripts, I couldn’t give it up but I’ve taken on a manager so I can focus on what I want to do in life. Figuring out my dream job is a head-scratcher, but I have time to get there. Finally, I can think about what I’d like to achieve, instead of what was expected of me. At the moment I’m clueless.
I’ve taken up cooking lessons. Once a week I go to class and learn a new recipe. Having my meals prepared for me is something I miss, but that’s laziness, it’s all part of my relearning or better still, unlearning what I’m used to. Not only that, but I’ve made friends, female friends. People who genuinely seem to like me and who I genuinely like in return. I’ve finally found my clique, women who will give me the ‘talk’ when I need it. They’ve been a breath of fresh air and much-needed company whilst I’ve allowed the real me to emerge and flourish.
I’ve wandered around the town centre, content to be by myself. I’ve shopped, for clothes other than onesies, I’ve developed a new kind of style, one that’s both comfortable and I feel good in. My onesies will never be replaced completely but they have agreed to take a backseat… for the time being.
I’ve realised the only thing I can control is myself and how I treat others. That’s it.
Living alone isn’t as scary as I thought it would be. Not when you have peace inside yourself. Not when it’s somewhere that’s yours and doesn’t hold bad memories. My new home is a safe haven. I love knowing it’s mine, I love being there, decorating, making meals, taking care of myself. This part of my life hasn’t been as daunting as I imagined.
The only thing missing is Ash.
I needed to know that although I loved him, I hadn’t just latched on to him for the wrong reasons. Obviously, at the beginning I did, but would we have stayed together if I wasn’t so afraid of being alone? If I wasn’t so wrapped up in grief and then shock, if there had been someone else to lean on in his place, would I have relied on him as much? Would he have really stayed for anything other than support after my mother's passing and then our baby news?
Now I know I would have still chosen him. Because that’s what relationships are about. I wish I’d found him after I’d figured my shit out, once I’d matured and experienced being single, confident, capable Fliss. But if I’d waited for that, fate probably would have led me down another route, far away from him and we’d never have even met. The forks in the road are there to test us. I wonder sometimes if the higher powers watch as we take the wrong path and shake their heads at our missed opportunities. Do they sit around watching us living, taking wagers on which way we’ll go, right or wrong, misery or happiness, death or living. Do they celebrate when we get it right? I truly believe I had to go through all those devastating things, things that could have destroyed me so I could figure out who I truly am. And guess what? I like me, flaws and all. I’ve been empowered from learning to like my own company. It’s true that we need to love ourselves before someone else can, otherwise we’ll always wonder what they see, doubt our worth and drive them away because of it.
Sending him away stung, it nearly crippled me and sent me back to the dark hole I crawled out of before I met him. The knowledge that this time I was doing it on purpose made it all the more cruel.
As much as I used to rely on fate and still believe in it to a degree. I also know I have the power to go after what I want. There isn’t always something whispering in my ear, suggesting the choices I make. I relied on looking for signs everywhere that I was doing the right thing and more often than not I wasn’t. Now, I trust myself. Wanting something doesn’t mean we’re entitled to it. Sometimes we have to work hard to prove we deserve it. And that’s what I’ve done. I’ve worked so hard on myself and now I can prove to Ash that I’m deserving of his love, because before, I always had a question mark over it. I didn’t deserve him. I lied and tricked and used him.
He’s about to find out how much he means to me in the only way I can communicate it to him.
Ashton
The last few months have been testing to say the least. Having to break the news to my parents and friends that I got Fliss pregnant but we’re no longer together was a fun conversation. I didn’t think it was possible for my dad to be anymore disappointed in me than he already was but the way he exploded said otherwise. My mother cried, both from happiness at knowing she was having a grandchild to sadness that she’d rarely see the baby. Trina hugged me, then punched me in my arm for leaving without a word. And the guys helped me to get drunk.
Fliss is about 6 months now. We stay in touch by phone and Facebook, we’re awkwardly polite as she fills me in on how the pregnancy progresses, when the scans are, results of blood tests and all the appointments I miss out on attending. She’s stolen this from me and day by day resentment seeps in. We’ve agreed I should go back to London closer to her due date so I can be there for the birth, but I feel alienated, as though this is happening to someone else. I want to be more included. I want to have a proper family, where my child grows up with both parents and because I still love her. The void between us has grown, as I knew it would. Long-distance relationships are hard work, especially when one half doesn’t want it. I didn’t choose this for us. I’ve had no say and have still been expected to be cool with the outcome. We still have an undeniable connection, but it’s holding on by a thread. It’s being tested yet hasn’t broken. I have no choice but to love her from a distance.
I respect why she asked me to leave. Actually, that’s horseshit. I despised her at first. I couldn’t speak to her for the first week after I arrived home. But as the months have gone on I’ve come to understand… ish. It was a brave choice. It doesn’t mean I liked it. But isn’t the saying ‘If you love something, let it go?’ I wasn’t going to stay where I wasn’t wanted. She’s had a rollercoaster of a year, needing time to unravel that is a fair expectation.
But I still don’t fucking like it.
And so like most days, I write and then sit with my phone in my hand willing it to ring before I can dial. Neither happens, I have to take any scraps she can offer up, when she can fit me in. Sounds a lot like bitterness, right? Because it is. I’ve already sensed the change in her and I’m worried one day soon she’ll tell me she’s done, she’s found herself and realised I no longer factor in her future.
I place the defective phone on my coffee table, walk to the kitchen and grab a drink from the fridge. Our rules list is still pinned up. The ‘no
being annoying’ rule Fliss demanded glares at me every time, because she’s the one being annoying and frustrating.
The door knocks and I walk towards it, pulling it open to see another delivery of bills.
And a package.
I sign for the box, close the door awkwardly as it’s so heavy and sit back down wondering what I might have ordered.
I rip it open to find books, a shit ton of books. When I pull one out, I take in the front cover, the image is a crisp white cover with a picture of Fliss and I, taken on my phone one morning when we were in bed. She’s nuzzling her face against me. At the time, I’m not even sure she knew I’d captured us, I sent it to her after I’d left and told her it was my favourite picture, caught in a natural moment. Neither of us posing or smiling, we weren’t looking at the camera because we only had eyes for each other. Around the image is a reddish hue, almost like clouds of smoke, concealing everything except our faces. Concealing the lies. The title reads Sweet Deceit and both our names are printed as authors – mine first and hers underneath.
I slouch back. I can’t believe she finished our story. I can’t believe it’s published and I’m holding a paperback copy in my hand. I turn it over and read the blurb:
How far would you go to escape circumstances out of your control?
Impulsiveness isn’t something Fliss Montgomery is familiar with. Until a moment of clarity causes her to make a split- second decision, and the answer becomes as easy as breathing.
Fly across the world on nothing more than a whim.
Her destination – Ashton Blake, the oblivious object of her affection and the stranger she talks to every day from the anonymity of a computer screen.
Only he has no idea she's coming and when she arrives at his doorstep, he mistakes her for a potential flat mate. Instead of correcting him, she moves in.
