by Natalie Ward
I shake my head, which makes the room spin even with my eyes closed.
“Can I take a wild guess and ask if it’s something to do with Emma?”
I crack one eye open and find Amy watching me as she eats some toast. I close my eye, saying nothing.
“Right, so it is about Emma then,” she says, patting my stomach before standing. “Well don’t be dickhead. Go and see her, talk about whatever it is that’s happened, and have the hot make-up sex when you’re done.”
I ignore her, knowing it isn’t as simple as that. Knowing that I’m not the one who needs to apologise here either. As fucked up as this whole mess is, the anger is still there on my part and the blame most definitely lies with her.
“So, you’re not going to elaborate on your drunken arrival at the crack of dawn this morning then?” Amy continues.
I open the other eye this time and find Amy still watching me. I know she wants answers. Shit, I would too if I was her. But, not only am I too hungover to deal with this right now, I’m not sure exactly how to explain it to her either. Because I know that when I tell her how this has all come about, all she’s going to do is rip me a new one. And I’m most definitely not in the mood for that.
“Fine,” she says. “Be a stubborn arse. In the meantime, I need to go,” she adds. “You’ll let yourself out, I assume?”
I mumble something, anything just to get her to leave. She tells me again to go and talk to Emma, but I know it won’t be happening. Even with the fog of this hangover or maybe I’m actually still drunk, I can remember enough about last night to know that me speaking to Emma is not going to be a good thing right now.
I’m still too angry with her. Too pissed off at what she’s done and the expectation that I should have told her about what happened with Amy. She had no right to do what she did and she has no right to ask me about it either.
I hear the front door slam, the noise making me wince. I kick off my other shoe before turning into the couch and going back to sleep.
~ Emma
By the time I get back to the bar, I’ve had a facial, a massage and a pedicure, three things I’m not sure I’ve ever had done, much less in one day. Despite the promises of cleansing and rejuvenation though, I feel anything but.
The sign on the door says closed, but when I peer in, I can see Tony setting up. I take a deep breath before knocking on the glass until he hears me. He shoots me a grin as he walks over and unlocks the door, holding it open for me.
“Hey, Emma, how’s things? Is Nick coming down soon?”
And it’s with that one question that I know Nick hasn’t come back from wherever it is he’s disappeared to. From the look on my face, evidently Tony realises this too.
“Shit, what’s happened?” he asks.
I bite my bottom lip, hard, because I do not want to start crying in front of him. It’s bad enough that I broke down like I did in front of Sarah. I really do not want to do it again here.
“Emma?” Tony asks, stepping towards me.
I shake my head because I can already feel the tears filling my eyes. Tony ignores me though, pulling me into a bear hug.
“Tell me what happened?” he asks, holding me tightly.
I shake my head against his chest because I know, the second I open my mouth the crying will start. I haven’t cried this much in my life, but these past few months, Nick has somehow managed to make me.
“Come on,” he says kindly, his hand squeezing my shoulder. “Tell me what happened?”
“Gone,” I finally manage to croak out as the tears start to fall. “He’s gone.”
“Fuck,” Tony mutters, his arms tightening. He says nothing more though, just holds me in his arms as I cry. “It’s alright, Em,” he eventually says. “It’s not the first time this has happened.”
I pull back in surprise. “What?”
Tony smiles at me. “It’s not the first time he’s gone MIA. It’s happened before you know, so it’s not you.”
I swallow hard, knowing that actually, it really was me. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”
Tony steers me towards a bar stool, gesturing for me to sit down before he walks around to the other side of the bar and grabs us both beers. I glance up at him, wondering if this is the best solution, but Tony just slides the bottle closer.
“Tell me what happened,” he says.
I take a long gulp of beer, stalling as I try to work out how much I should tell him. Eventually I put the bottle down and without looking up I mumble, “I found out about Amy.”
Tony murmurs something I don’t catch.
“What?” I ask, glancing up at him.
“I said, it figures.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
Tony lets out a deep breath. “The last time this happened was after she died.”
“How long did he disappear for?” I ask, half afraid to know the answer.
“A month.”
I half choke on the mouthful of beer I’ve just taken. “A month?” I repeat.
Tony nods. “Yeah, but obviously that was a pretty shit time,” he adds.
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure this is a shit time too.”
“Why, what do you mean?”
I take another mouthful of beer before meeting Tony’s stare. “Because Nick isn’t the one who told me about Amy,” I tell him, forcing myself to get the words out.
“Then who did?” he asks, confused.
“No one,” I admit, my stomach churning with a mixture of nerves and guilt. “I looked her up at work and found out for myself.”
“Ah shit,” Tony mumbles.
Nick doesn’t show up for work tonight, leaving Tony and the other staff to run the bar. Tony tells me it’s fine, it’s what happened last time and he doesn’t mind doing it. When I ask him about Oscar, he tells me he’ll go up and feed him. I’m not sure why that bothers me, but when Tony sees the look on my face, he smiles, hands me the spare keys to Nick’s apartment and says, “Why don’t you look after him?”
So I do. Heading upstairs to feed Oscar, even though I know what I’m really doing is waiting for Nick to come back.
I have no idea how long I’m going to be waiting for. Last time it was a month, but Tony assures me that was a bad time, much worse than this. I’m not entirely sure I believe him, but having nothing else to go on, what else can I think.
In the end, Nick doesn’t come back to his apartment and sometime after midnight, I find myself crawling into his bed. It feels huge without him, empty and cold, and it’s only when Oscar jumps up and snuggles beside me, that I finally allow myself to start crying again, wondering when this nightmare is ever going to end.
At work the next day, I’m a mess. I’m only half listening to the people around me and as a result, I make mistakes and I miss things. I can feel Jason watching me, can almost hear the questions he wants to ask, but I manage to avoid being alone with him, going straight back to Nick’s apartment when my shift is over.
Once again Nick doesn’t come home and as the week passes by, I find myself trapped in some kind of nightmare Groundhog Day that sees my days filled with me practically ruining my career and my nights spent at Nick’s place wondering if I haven’t also ruined my relationship.
I barely sleep and by the end of the week, when Jason finally corners me in the staff lounge, I know I not only look like crap, but I’ve been a crap doctor too.
“See you,” I quickly say, throwing him a half smile as I attempt to leave.
“Emma, wait,” he says, his hand on my arm as I try to scoot past him.
I stare at the hand, unable to look him in the eye. He must read something else into it, because he immediately pulls back, gesturing instead towards the couch. I don’t say anything, knowing I’m not getting out of this one as I walk over and sit down.
Jason sits beside me, waits for me to look at him. When I don’t, he speaks anyway. “Do you want to tell me what’s been going on with you this week?” he asks, the words kind.
I’d expected him to be angry with me, but despite his kindness, I still can’t bring myself to answer him.
Jason exhales. “Okay, something you don’t want to talk about. That’s fine, but the issue here is how it’s affecting you and your work.”
Now I do look up, because despite everything that’s happened, ruining my career and losing the respect of Jason is something I never wanted to do.
“It’s okay,” he says when he sees the look on my face. “I get that things happen, that sometimes it’s hard to switch off and focus when you’re at work. But I can’t let you go on like this. It’s not fair to the patients or the rest of us.”
“Are you firing me?” I quickly ask, scared that if this happens, I truly will have ruined everything.
“No,” he says, smiling. “But I do want you to take some time off and get whatever this thing is that’s bothering you sorted out.”
I nod, half relieved, half scared still.
“You’re not losing your job, Emma, I promise,” Jason says, somehow reading my mind. “Take a week, okay? Get whatever this is sorted out and then come back and prove to me you’re the doctor I know you are.”
“Okay,” I whisper, gripping my bag as I stand.
Jason follows me to the door and I think that’s the end of it until he says, “Em, is there anything I can do to help?”
I glance back at him shaking my head because I know there isn’t anything anyone can do.
He offers me a smile. “Well, you let me know if there is, okay?”
I nod once, before walking out of the hospital, wondering how the hell I’m supposed to fix this mess in a week when I have no idea where Nick is and no idea if or when he’s ever going to come back.
~ Nick
“Alright, this has got to stop,” Amy says, sitting down beside me.
I glance at her as I take another sip of my beer. “What does?” I ask.
“This, you idiot,” she says, gesturing to me.
I look down at myself, wondering what the hell she’s talking about.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” she says, grabbing the beer from my hand and taking a long pull. “What the hell is going on with you? You’ve done nothing but spend this past week on my couch, drinking and sleeping. You look like a homeless person and you kinda smell like one too. I love you Nick, I really do, but you can’t keep doing this. Who’s looking after the bar, huh? And what about Oscar?”
I stare at her as though she’s crazy. She looks back at me as though it’s me who’s the crazy one, not her.
I still haven’t told her the reason for why I showed up on her doorstep, drunk and angry a week ago. That hasn’t stopped her from asking though and every day has been a repeat of the previous. Amy waking me with coffee and the question, “What happened?” Me ignoring her and going back to sleep, waking sometime in the afternoon to resume my drinking only to pass out sometime later before waking and doing it all again.
“Nick, seriously,” she says, reaching for my hand. “What is it?”
I stare down at her hand in mine, at the tiny tattoo on her wrist that she got done at the same time I got mine. It had been a thing we’d done together, not because we wanted to share the experience, but because we both needed to share the grief.
Her grip softens, her fingers sliding into mine as she pulls my hand into her lap. I look up at her and wonder why I never thought about things this way before.
Then I lean in and kiss her.
“Jesus Christ,” she says, pushing me away.
“What?” I ask, confused. “Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about it?”
“No actually, I haven’t,” she says, a look of what might be disgust on her face. “You’re like a brother to me, Nick. You always have been. Besides which, have you forgotten the fact that you also have a girlfriend?”
I let out a long sigh. I know she’s right, at least about the sibling part anyway. I’ve known Amy virtually my whole life and even though she is totally awesome, I have never once considered her to be anything other than like a sister to me. The thought of us as a couple never crossed my mind up until about five seconds ago, and I can only assume that the alcohol that’s been circulating throughout my system for the past week is what made me try to kiss her just now.
“Yeah, um, sorry about that.”
Amy grabs my hand again, squeezing it until I look at her. “Tell me what this is about?” she asks. “It’s Emma, yeah?”
I nod.
“What happened?”
I take a deep breath, knowing there’s no way I’m going to be able to avoid not answering this question any longer. “She found out about Amy,” I tell her.
“What?”
I nod. “Yeah and it was such a shitty thing for her to do that I just…I was so fucking mad at her…I just lost it. I had to get out of there.”
“Wait, what?” Amy asks, stopping me.
“Emma,” I say, wondering why she isn’t getting this. “She looked up Amy’s file at the hospital.”
“No,” Amy says, shaking her head.
Finally someone who understands. I should’ve known she would. Aside from my parents and Tony, she’s the only other person who knows what Amy’s death was like.
“No, seriously,” she continues. “You mean, you hadn’t actually told her?” she asks incredulously as though she’s surprised by this, when really, she should know better. “She told me she knew,” she continues. “That she knew about Amy?”
Now it’s my turn. “What?”
“I asked her,” Amy says. “When you guys got together?”
I shrug, not following. “She knew she died.”
“Jesus, Nick,” she says, turning so she’s directly facing me. “Please don’t tell me that you hadn’t told your girlfriend, the girlfriend you’re madly in love with, about what actually happened with Amy.”
“I’m not in love with her,” I say quickly.
Amy scoffs. “Yeah okay, whatever. The point is you were supposed to have told her everything.”
I roll my eyes, choosing to ignore this comment. “No, I think the point is that it was a shitty thing for Emma to do,” I continue. “She had no fucking right.”
Amy waves her hand as though dismissing it. “No, I think the shitty thing is that you didn’t tell her about it. Especially after what happened before. I mean, fuck, Nick, really?”
“What before?” I ask.
“Oh my god, the confusion over me and the tattoo? Jesus,” she says, her words laced with frustration.
“What the hell does that have to do with it?” I ask, now regretting telling her any of this.
Amy takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly before she continues. “Nick,” she starts, pausing as though to gather strength before she imparts whatever words of wisdom she thinks I need to hear. “I love you, I really do.” She stops, as though trying to find the right words to say to me. “But despite that, sometimes you can be really fucking stupid. Do you know that?”
“What?” I ask annoyed. “What are you talking about?”
Amy finishes my beer, putting the empty bottle on the coffee table before continuing. “You and Emma, you’ve what, been seeing each other for a few months now?” I nod; not exactly sure of the exact amount of time, but knowing it’s pretty close to what she’s saying. Amy nods as though she’s happy I can at least agree with her on this one. “Right, and regardless of what you’re willing to admit, you are in love with her. She’s woken this fire in you, this…this life that you haven’t had for a really long time. Not since Amy died.”
My eyes close because a part of me knows she’s right but just isn’t willing to admit it. I know for the past year, maybe the past year and half, I’ve felt like I’ve been walking through life half awake and half asleep. And it wasn’t until that night, the night Emma walked into my bar, I finally felt as though I might be ready to wake back up.
I’m not even sure what it was, or is, about her that caused me to feel lik
e this. God knows she was hardly in a good place when we first met. All I know is she somehow seemed to understand what it was I was going through, even when she had no idea what that was. Somehow that made everything a little easier to deal with.
“So, you can obviously see this too,” Amy says, smiling. I shrug in half agreement and her smile widens because she knows she’s right. “So why didn’t you ever tell her about what happened?” she asks. “Why don’t you ever tell anyone about it? It doesn’t have to be this big secret you know?”
“I don’t know,” I shrug, looking away. “I don’t ever want to talk about it, much less think about it.”
“I know,” she says. “None of us do, Nick. But you shouldn’t hide it from Emma because it’s a huge part of your life, just like Emma is.”
I run a hand through my hair, gripping the back of neck as I try and work out what I’m supposed to say or do here. Deep down, I know why I’ve never told her. It’s the same reason I never tell anyone, and it’s the same reason I permanently tattooed a reminder of it into my skin.
“God, you still feel guilty about it all, don’t you?” Amy says and I wonder if she can actually read my mind.
I nod, my head falling as the memories of it all resurface. They’ve never really gone away, I’ve somehow just managed to bury them. Bury them so that I can get through each day without falling apart or becoming a total alcoholic. Although given this week’s activities, I kinda have to wonder if I’ve been kidding myself about that second part.
“Nick, you have nothing to feel guilty about, you have to know that,” Amy says, her voice softer. “What happened was not your fault. Nothing you did or could’ve done would have prevented it.”
I nod, even though I don’t believe her. Even though my guilt doesn’t stem from what happened in the end, but from what happened in the beginning to cause it.
“Emma made a mistake, that’s all,” she continues. “Yes, it was a big one, I’ll grant you that. But please, don’t you make the biggest mistake of your life by letting her go.” I glance up, meet Amy’s gaze. “She’s good for you, Nick,” she continues, smiling. “She’s right for you.”
