“How’re you doing Miss Miller?” asks the doctor as he waltzes back in the room, acting as if he didn’t just witness the most awkward conversation possible.
“I’m good,” I say, “but I need to discharge myself.”
Chapter 26
NOW
Confessions
I wake up and stretch out, feeling like I’ve slept for hours, and wonder why the room is still pitch black. I knew it was late when I came back to bed, but I slept heavily and even dreamt, which means I’ve had at least four hours of sleep. I know all this crazy stuff because I don’t sleep. Ever. Not the whole night and not for more than four hours at a time. I’m sort of obsessed about sleeping and how much I’m not doing it.
I’m in the guest bedroom, which Noah says is the warmest room in the house because it’s next to the stovepipe, but it didn’t feel like the warmest room in the middle of the night. I did enjoy the bed, however. It’s super-king size and is the biggest, comfiest bed I’ve ever slept on. And I’ve stayed in some pretty nice hotels.
I decide to take a bath. This bedroom has an en-suite bathroom, complete with a sunken-in Jacuzzi bath, heated tiled floor, two sinks and a separate shower that’s big enough for at least five people. Noah must have more money than sense.
I crawl out of bed, scurry around for my phone and notice that it’s just before eight. I’ve slept for like seven hours. How is that possible, and why is it still completely dark in this room? I fumble around on the wall for the switch and hit it with my palm. I walk over to the window and realise that the glass is nearly black, meaning it’s not letting any of the natural light into the room. How clever, I think. I have no idea how to change it back to normal, so I head into the bathroom and turn on the taps.
I’ve just submerged myself in the hot bubbles when I hear the bedroom door open. I lie back, letting the water bounce just underneath my chin, and wait.
“Ariel,” Noah says, knocking on the bathroom door. “Are you in there?”
“Yeah,” I call out. “Who else would it be?”
“Very funny. Are you decent?”
I look down at myself and pull some of the bubbles over my bits. “Yeah, I’m decent.”
He pushes the door open and looks towards the sinks.
“I’m in the bath,” I tell him.
“So I see,” he says, peeking around the tiled wall. “I thought you said you were decent?”
“I am,” I say. “You can’t see my tits or my—”
“Yes, I get it,” he interrupts.
“What do you want?” The atmosphere between us is as bad as it has ever been and I want to fix it. I don’t really know why, but lying in bed last night I couldn’t help think about how he used to come here every year and see my parents for me. Who would do that for an ex-girlfriend? What man would do that for an ex-girlfriend that left him with only a note to say goodbye? What man would do that for an ex-girlfriend that had left him after just telling him she’d been pregnant with another man’s child? He really is a remarkable man.
“I’m cooking breakfast, do you want some before we head off?” He moves away from the bath and leans against one of the sinks. I can see his eyes searching my face, but I don’t know what he’s looking for.
I dreamt about him last night and it was lovely. We were nice, normal and young again. We did things that normal boyfriends and girlfriends do. We went on dates to the cinema and out for meals. We walked hand-in-hand down the street together. We laughed. A lot. I don’t think I ever really heard him laughing when we were together. Not properly anyway. That’s how I knew it was a dream.
It kills me to think I didn’t make him as happy as he made me. And it saddens me to think that he probably wasn’t anywhere near happy enough to laugh because he was too busy trying to save me.
“I’m sorry, Noah,” I say, realising that I’ve said that a few times recently.
He opens his mouth but then shuts it again.
“About last night,” I clarify for him. “I’m sorry for what I said.”
He stares at me for a long time before finally smiling a little bit. “You were never any good at taking compliments.”
I nod. “I still hate them now.”
“Yeah…” he sighs.
“So,” I say, “what’re you cooking for breakfast?”
He smiles at me, but I can tell that it’s not a real smile. “Scrambled eggs on toasted brown bread. That okay?”
I nod. “Sure, that sounds great.”
He sighs heavily and pinches the skin in between his eyes. “Just so you know, it was the way you did it that hurt the most.”
He starts to walk out.
“Hang on,” I call, sitting up. The bubbles slide right off me, but I don’t care. “What do you mean?”
He huffs and turns around, his eyes immediately zeroing in on my breasts. He stares for just a second too long and then looks away. “You left me by writing a fucking note,” he says. “I think I deserved a bit more than that.”
I nod in complete agreement. “You did.”
“Was it really that bad that you couldn’t tell me? That you had to run away to…where did you go anyway?”
“New York,” I tell him.
“Wow, talk about a little girl in a big city.”
I think about the things I got up to while I was there and feel a wave of shame wash over me. “Yeah, something like that.”
“Ariel,” he sighs, “we seem to keep going around in circles. I want to understand what happened more than anything, but I’m beginning to think it’s been a complete waste of my energy. It’s been an itch that I’ve been trying to scratch for seven years now, and to be quite honest, it’s really fucking pissing me off. I keep telling myself to just forget it, to chalk it up to a painful past mistake. But my heart won’t forget. It wants to understand why it allowed itself to fall so hard for you when it already knew you were going to be trouble. It wants to know what made you run from it. It wants to know why you betrayed it in the worst possible way.”
I stare at him. In that instant when our eyes connect, I realise that I owe him much more than an explanation or an excuse, or even an apology. I owe him the truth. I owe him closure. I owe him my life.
“It was me,” I whisper.
“I know it was you,” he says angrily. “You wrote the note. You fucked off. Don’t give me the ‘it wasn’t you, it was me’ bollocks. I know it was you.”
I shake my head and stand up. The water sloshes over the side of the bath as Noah’s eyes hungrily trail all over me. He might be pissed off, but I can tell that every time he looks at me he’s remembering all the nights we shared in bed together. I want him to want me. I want him to remember what it was like with us. I want him to do it again.
“I’m not on about us now, Noah. I’m trying to tell you why I always knew that I’d have to leave you,” I tell him as I climb out of the bath. I walk over to the door, leaving wet footprints in my wake, and grab my dressing gown from off the hook. I don’t look at him again as I walk into the bedroom. I sit at the dressing table and begin to brush the tangles out of my hair. It’s a good few minutes before Noah comes into the room. He sits on the bed behind me, staring at me in the reflection of the mirror.
“You always knew you’d leave?” he asks.
I yank the comb through my hair, trying not to wince as it snags on a knot. “Yes.”
“Right from the beginning?” he pushes.
“Yes. That’s why I was always telling you I didn’t want hearts and flowers.”
“Is that why you didn’t want me to kiss you too?”
I shake my head and look away from his piercing eyes. “No. That’s something different and it’s a different story, but it’s why I haven’t let any other man kiss me.”
He frowns at me. “Okay…”
“I always knew there would be a chance that I would be taken, so I always knew I’d have to leave before it got to a point where it would hurt one of us,” I say. “I just fucked up
because I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you or let you fall in love with me.”
He rubs his temple. “Is this why you only sleep with men just the once?” He shakes his head and sorts of laughs. “You’re desperate to not get yourself into the same situation again, aren’t you? You’re scared to fall in love with them?”
I nod.
“You’re going to die a lonely old woman, Ariel, and that’s really, really sad.”
I look up and see the pain and sadness in his eyes. I want to dive into them and make it all better. “I know it is,” I tell him.
“But why?” he asks. “Are you so convinced you’re going to be taken away that you’re willing to sacrifice your life? Do you think someone is looking for you or something?”
I shake my head. “Not really.”
He raises his eyebrows at me. “Not really?”
“No…well, yes.” I frown. “I think some people will be looking for me and when they find me, they’ll definitely take me away.”
He waits for me to carry on, but I falter for a second. Once I tell him, I can’t take it back. I’m not worried he’ll snitch on me, but I am worried that I’ll be forced to tell him the rest of the story.
“Who will?” he whispers. “Who will look for you and why will they take you?”
I turn around on the stool to face him and pull my dressing gown tightly around me, tying the knot of the belt underneath my breasts. This is it. I can’t do this without telling him the truth. The whole truth.
“Ariel,” he says, “you’re staring at me.”
I blink several times and clear my throat. “Sorry.”
“You were about to tell me who is going to come and take you away,” he says gently.
I take a deep breath and straighten my back. “The police,” I say. “The police will come for me.”
“Why?” he breathes. “What did you do?”
I think about the accident. I remember telling my dad I didn’t want to drive. I remember my mum and how she took Lily out of my arms. I recall how she asked me to tell her what was wrong. I didn’t tell her. If I had told her there and then, they would all still be alive. Caleb and Daniel were completely oblivious to anything, such is the beauty of innocence. I remember them playing tag with my dad. I remember it all. Most nights I relive each and every moment. There are tons of ‘what ifs’ and those are what haunt my dreams. This is my chance to finally tell someone the truth. I feel like I owe it to my family to finally tell someone exactly what happened.
“I killed them, Noah,” I whisper as my heart rips out of my chest. “I killed my family.”
Noah rears back in shock. I can see the evidence of my confession on his face, but he tries to hide it. “What do you mean, Ariel?”
I swallow, but this time I can’t stop the tears from escaping. They fall hot and fast down my face as I stare at him through my blurry eyes. “It was me,” I say through my sobs. I start to turn away from him, but he moves like lightning until he’s right in front of me. He kneels and grabs my hips with his hands to stop me from moving. A huge shudder rattles through my chest, making me stutter and suck in weird breaths. “It was me,” I say again, and I know I’m repeating myself but I can’t help it. “I killed them, Noah. It was me.”
He stares deep into my eyes and pushes his thumbs across my cheeks.
“Michael didn’t do it. He was supposed to be driving, but he was drunk,” I rush. “My dad went mad and asked me to drive, but I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to do it, Noah,” I say. “But I was the only one who could drive that hadn’t been drinking, so I had to. I had to.”
His face wrinkles as he frowns at my words. “You were driving?”
“Yes,” I nod. “Yes, it was me. It was always me.”
“You let Michael go to prison for something he didn’t do?” he says slowly. “He was your twin brother, Ariel.”
“I know,” I say, letting my head drop. “But you don’t understand. It isn’t that simple.”
“How isn’t it that simple? He was sent to prison for causing death by careless driving under the influence, but if he wasn’t driving, then he shouldn’t be there.”
“It was his fault,” I say. “He should have been driving that car, not me. He shouldn’t have been drinking. I shouldn’t have been driving.”
Noah starts to shake his head in confusion. “What caused the crash?”
“Michael,” I say. “It was all his fault!”
“But you just said—”
“I know what I said,” I sob. “But if it wasn’t for Michael, I wouldn’t have crashed. It was because of him. He couldn’t sit still. He couldn’t stand my dad being annoyed with him and not with me.”
Flashes of how he’d clambered across the seats to get to me swarm through my head. I remember his arms curling around me and want to be sick. I hate that he dared to do that. I hate how he didn’t give a fuck about what could happen to his family. I hate him.
“You’re not making much sense, Ariel.”
I cry and hug myself as Noah continues to stare at me.
“I was so worried that the police would come and take me away that I didn’t dare to do anything,” I confess. “I didn’t want anyone to hurt like I was hurting. I know death and splitting up with someone isn’t the same thing, but I just didn’t want to inflict any sort of hurt on anyone. I didn’t want to be constantly watching over my shoulder for myself and someone else. And I was selfish.”
Noah takes a deep breath and wipes my tears away with the back of his hand. “Are you going to tell the truth to the police now?”
I furiously shake my head. “No.”
“But he’s innocent,” Noah says.
“He’s not,” I counter. “He’s not at all.”
Noah huffs. “He didn’t commit the crime he’s been found guilty of. He’s being punished for something he didn’t do.”
“He isn’t,” I say, wiping my nose with my hand. “He got up out of his seat when I was driving. The others were asleep. He came behind me and tried to fight the wheel out of my hand. He said I was going too slow and wanted me to move over to let him drive. If I had moved, he’d have been driving. He was fighting me. My dad woke up and tried to get the wheel too and then we crashed.” I make a sound like a dying donkey and pull myself out of Noah’s grasp. I don’t want him touching me. I don’t want him seeing me like this. “He should have stayed in his fucking seat!” I yell. “They’d all still be alive!“
“How did you two even survive the crash?” Noah asks calmly and quietly.
“I don’t know,” I huff. “Michael wasn’t even wearing a seatbelt. I think the police told me, but I forgot. I wasn’t really listening to them.” My fingers find my necklace and start to turn the pendant over and over. “I was driving steady, Noah. I would have got us all home safely,” I tell him. “I would have done just fine.”
“I’m sure you would have,” he says kindly.
I sniff. “I would have. I know it.”
He pulls me into his chest and lets me continue to cry on him. He’s done this so many times that I know exactly where my head fits against him until we’re joined together like two pieces in a puzzle.
“I’m scared that I broke the law,” I whisper against his t-shirt when my sobs have diminished. “I think I should have told the police that I was driving.”
“Yeah,” Noah says, brushing my hair, “you probably should have.”
“Do you think they’d charge me with perverting the course of justice?”
“I’m not familiar with the law,” he says, “but I imagine it would be something along those lines. Although your brother did confess.”
I nod.
“I don’t understand why he did that,” he says. “I read it in the paper. Why would he say he’d done something that he hadn’t? Was it just to cover for you?”
I shake my head. “I hadn’t been drinking, so I wouldn’t have done anything wrong in the eyes of the law. He was out of his seat, trying t
o get the wheel. That’s what caused the crash.”
“But he couldn’t have known that the car would crash,” Noah says. “I’m sure he’s been punishing himself for what happened. I think you should go and put it right.”
I shake my head. “He deserves to be there.”
“No, Ariel,” he whispers.
“Yes, Noah.”
“No,” he says sternly. “Letting him go to prison for something he didn’t do was wrong.”
“He’s evil,” I say. “He’s an evil little shit and he deserves the anal fucking he’ll be getting while he’s in there.”
“Ariel!” Noah admonishes in shock. “What the hell is wrong with you? This is your twin brother!”
“He’s nothing to me,” I spit. “I hate his guts. I hope he rots in there. I hope the big, fat bastards bugger him every night. I hope he cries himself to sleep in fear of them. I hope his life is a living hell, just like he’s made mine.”
Noah shakes his head. “What the fuck, Ariel? What you just said was horrible.”
“He’s horrible,” I fire back. “He’s worse than horrible.”
“No, you have to let this go,” he says. “He shouldn’t have gotten out of his seat, but that’s it. He didn’t plan to kill them. He didn’t deliberately try to hurt you.”
“Yes, he did!”
“No,” Noah huffs, “he didn’t.”
“He did,” I hiss. “He fucking did!”
“You can’t let this anger rule your life anymore,” he says, brushing his fingers through my hair. “It’ll destroy you.”
“It already has,” I tell him.
“It hasn’t,” he whispers softly. “I know the real you is in there.”
“I don’t want to be. That’s the point.”
“Come on now,” he says. “This is too big for me. I want you to see a different counsellor. I’ll come with you if it helps.” He shrugs. “I might actually get something out of it too.”
I shake my head. “It’s not just that. I’m not just angry because of that. You don’t understand.”
Noah and Me Page 20
