Let Me Be Your Truth

by Lynsey M. Stewart

  But it has been over a year; you can't waste that time together…

  But don’t forget you feel nothing…

  I closed my eyes to try to clear the confusion.

  ‘If you were adopted, wouldn’t you want to know?’ I asked as I pushed my whatever-vegetable-it-was risotto around the plate. Surely only being allowed to eat in vegan restaurants was enough justification in itself to end our relationship?

  ‘What else do you need to know?’

  ‘Everything,' I said. ‘Sometimes I have so many questions but no one can answer them for me.’

  ‘What do you think your files are going to say? You think every detail of your childhood has been documented? No, of course it hasn't. I guarantee you'll have more questions after doing this than you did before.'

  ‘Maybe, but if I don’t try, I’ll never know.’

  ‘Then what? Trace them?' He shook his head. I knew this was coming from a good place, but it was also coming from an ill-informed place. A place where he hadn't even considered how this was coming across.

  ‘Maybe.’

  He put his knife and fork down and sat back. ‘I'm not sure how I feel about this. I want to support you but it worries the hell out of me,' he said. ‘They were addicts who thought their next fix was more important than caring for their child. You, Kate.' He drew out the last two words like he thought I needed him to point out that he was referring to me. If I were anyone else, I would have poked him in the eye with my knife.

  ‘I was an addict too,’ I replied calmly. ‘Once. I was an addict.’

  ‘That wasn't your fault. You were a baby,' he said shaking his head. ‘It was all their fault and now you want to find them.' I pulled my bottom lip under my teeth to stop myself from saying something I would come to regret. ‘Kate, what do you want me to say?'

  ‘Nothing. I don’t expect anything from you. People at Goldenwell’s have been more supportive.’

  Danny…

  ‘I'm looking out for you. Can't you see that?' he pleaded as he tried to take my hand. I pulled it back, and he looked crushed.

  ‘I can’t do this anymore…I’m sorry…I’m so sorry.’

  ‘What is it?' he asked quietly, but I could tell by his wide eyes that he knew what was coming. I shook my head. ‘What are you thinking, Kate?' I put my fingers to my mouth. ‘What are you feeling?'

  ‘I’m not feeling anything. That’s the problem,’ I whispered. He swallowed sharply and looked down at the white tablecloth, frowning and shaking his head. ‘I think we should end things. I’m so sorry.’

  ‘Stop saying you’re sorry!’ He slammed the words out. ‘How long have you been feeling like this?’

  I closed my eyes. ‘A while.’

  ‘A while? Jesus! I've planned everything for us. I was going to ask you to marry me. I talked to the book club, told them everything. Told them how I was going to do it. Bloody hell, they were going to be there.' He was hurting, and I was gradually falling as everything came at me full pelt.

  He was going to ask me to marry him. Oh my God, I’m a bloody terrible person.

  ‘What are they going to think?’ he said.

  ‘I'm sorry. I had no idea…'

  ‘We’ve been together over a year. That’s what happens, Kate! You get married.’

  Romance wasn't his strong point.

  ‘That’s what happens? There are no rules, Steve. You get married when you fall in love—’

  ‘But you don't love me anymore,' he said through gritted teeth. ‘What the fuck am I going to say? The book club is tomorrow night?'

  ‘I'm sure they’ll understand,’ I replied as it dawned on me that other people’s views meant more to Steve than mine. That only gave me more assurance that I was doing the right thing. ‘They’re lovely people. Really lovely. I can’t find fault with any of them.’ Apart from their taste in books. ‘Beryl makes a lovely beetroot cake. Moist. Beautiful. They have many talents…’

  ‘Just stop it,’ he said, his face the same colour as Beryl’s cake. ‘I think you’ve said enough.’

  I took the napkin off my knee and bunched it up on the table. ‘I'm sorry this didn't work out. You have to know that. You're kind and sweet, and you're very well thought of around the village. Don’t stop being you, Steve. Never stop being yourself. You’re just not the one for me.’ He pushed his dish away from him; poor guy was in a bad way if he couldn’t finish his butternut squash. I stood and took some money out of my purse, leaving it on the table before allowing myself to accept the truth.

  ‘I need kidney shivers,’ I said. ‘Full on kidney shivers.’

  Chapter Seventeen

  ‘Can I leave you to lock up, Kate? I need to dash.’ Ali, Ruth’s partner, shouted from the doorway as I was tidying away last minute spillages in the art therapy room.

  Ruth had allowed me to lead another session. I hadn't planned anything because I'd spent the week finding boxes of vegetables on my doorstep (Steve's idea of a peace offering) and fighting off phone calls from members of the book and allotment clubs who were flitting between showing me sympathy and telling me how much I'd hurt Steve for leading him on. In some ways, I agreed with them. I had been feeling nothing for a few months, but I had always let my insecurities stand tall in front of my strength. Despite having numerous moments of I’m going to die alone! I still knew I’d made the right decision for both of us.

  I decided to focus tonight's session on finding the right light to create shadows. I had brought in a small table lamp from home that was perfect for the job, and the session went amazingly well.

  ‘There are a few people outside, but everyone else has left. Just do a last minute check before you go. See you next week,' Ali shouted from the entrance.

  ‘No problem. I’ll be leaving as soon as I’ve cleared these last few bits away.’ I heard the door shut and smiled to myself that she trusted me to secure the building and left without listening to my reply. I was feeling part of the furniture now and loved that they were giving me more responsibilities.

  After cleaning the last few brushes and packing up the light, I started to check the building. It was very calm and still, so not in keeping with how it usually was. Noise and laughter regularly filled the spaces, and in some ways, I felt privileged to see it in both of its guises.

  The walls outside the counselling rooms were now full of artwork after I started to make displays of my favourite pieces. They all spoke differently to me. Some of them whispered their stories and wanted to hide behind the more vivid, brash colours, and others were happy to share their journey onto paper or canvas. It was like all of the individual experiences and all of the hurts and traumas were transferred through hands, along fingertips and into the brush where they would be heard forever. They represented important moments and would permanently be marked as something that mattered for reasons I may never know, and that was wonderful to me.

  I flicked off the lights in the kitchen, checked the counselling rooms and collected my belongings from the office. I left my bags at the door but realised as I put them down that I had forgotten to check the bathrooms. The ladies’ was empty, and although I knew everyone had left for the evening, I couldn't help myself but knock on the gents before entering. All of the air left my chest when I saw Danny standing in front of the mirror, bending over slightly as he washed his hands in the sink.

  ‘You scared me. I thought everyone had gone,’ I said, still clutching my chest in shock.

  ‘Everyone had gone, but I nipped back in to wash my hands.' He held them up, showing me the paint across his fingernails. ‘Tricky to get the bastard off sometimes,' he said as he turned his back and returned to the sink. I watched his eyes dip to my legs. ‘I see you've got some on your skirt,' he said. I looked down and saw a red flash of colour across my silver pleated silk skirt. Stupid of me to wear it but I didn't have time to change after work.

  ‘Oh yeah. A hazard of the job I guess.' I smiled and clutched the hem, pulling the pleats out at either side of me like a
concertina. He smirked through the mirror as he turned off the tap and shook out his hands. I gasped as he came towards me, slowly, so amazingly slowly until he leant in as he sidestepped the hand dryer and instead reached for a paper towel from the dispenser behind my shoulder.

  He dried his hands, rolled the paper towel up into a ball and aimed perfectly into the bin.

  ‘You know, I fucking love you in a skirt, but I particularly like that one. Do you want to know why?' he whispered sexily into my ear. I could feel his breath tease my skin. ‘I watched you tonight as you were setting up the light. As soon as you turned it on, it made it completely see-through. I spent the class looking at that beautiful curve and dip of your pussy so fucking perfect illuminated in the light.' He brought his hand up to push himself against the wall but didn't move away from my ear. ‘It made me wonder if you were wearing underwear, but then I remembered that you're a fucking good girl, aren't you, Kate? You'd keep that pussy under wraps, wouldn't you? Away from prying eyes and exploring fingers.'

  I was closed in. I made a futile attempt to move away but Danny surrounded me, and, God, I loved it.

  ‘I'm going to pretend you didn't try to step aside because I know you're affected just as much as me. In fact, I'm beginning to read you so well that I know if I were to do this…’ He snaked his hand around my neck and rested his forehead on mine. ‘Your breathing would become much faster, and the beautiful curve of your breasts would start to rise and fall. You'll need to take in more air because you'll feel like I've taken it all from you, and any minute now, I'll hear a faint gasp.'

  I took in a breath. Danny smiled as I struggled to contain the gasp he knew I'd need to take as much as I needed him to touch me. ‘There it is,' he smiled as he kissed me softly on my neck causing a rush of heat down my body. ‘I know you better than you know yourself, and that should fucking scare you,' he said before gently nibbling and sucking on the sensitive skin under my chin, trailing down my neck and dangerously close to my breasts. ‘I'm pretty certain if I moved my fingers here…’ He lightly tapped me between my legs, which caused a moan I had never heard before. ‘You would be warm and wet and so slick that my fingers would move perfectly across your skin and into the pussy I'm struggling with everything I have not to imagine.'

  He moved away from me, and as he did, his hand touched the hand dryer on the wall. He tapped the silver vent lazily, turning it sideways and aiming it towards my legs. The air made my skirt billow and flicker around me. He was standing with his arms folded, his lips slightly parted, and his head tilted as the fabric of my skirt bunched up around the tops of my thighs, showing off my legs just as he hoped it would. The dryer shut down and my skirt fell back into place, the only movement in the room from either of us as we continued staring at each other.

  ‘Hello! Kate! Are you in here?' A voice broke our gaze, and I broke our connection as the voice settled in my mind. I felt the jerk of guilt take me away from the situation I'd been a willing participant in.

  ‘Steve?’ I shouted as I stepped out of the bathroom and into the hallway where he was standing dressed in his union jack cycling gear. Hells Bells.

  ‘I was passing. I saw your car was still here,’ he said, pointing in the general direction of the car park.

  ‘I'm just locking up. The last are just leaving now.' Just as the statement left my lips, I turned to see all six foot of the beautifully tattooed, incredibly ripped, dark-haired sex god that was Danny stop quietly as the bathroom door shut behind him. My two leading men, one my ex and the other my maybe going to happen, were now standing beside each other. What a slap in the face that was: Steve in his cycling shorts that left very little to the imagination of something you very definitely needed your imagination to find, and Danny in his tight jeans and white T-shirt that accentuated every tight ripple of bloody greatness.

  Steve’s face immediately dropped as he took in Danny and registered that we had just left the same bathroom. Together. Me first and Danny a cocky second.

  ‘Hi, you must be one of the art class participants.’ Steve held out his hand. ‘I’m Kate’s…was Kate’s boyfriend.’

  ‘Was?' he said, cocking his eyebrow. ‘Good to meet you, and yes, you're right, I'm one of the participants,’ he said with all the sarcasm he could muster as he turned to smirk in my direction. Oh God, he’s smirking at the cycling shorts. I know he’s smirking at the cycling shorts. He put his hands in his pockets, essentially dismissing Steve's offer to shake hands. Steve still held his hand out in front of him, and I wanted to push it away back to the side of him, hoping Danny hadn't noticed his tendency to put people in pigeonholes.

  ‘Yes, I assumed you were,’ Steve replied.

  Too late…

  ‘You assumed?’ Danny straightened his back into a let’s have it stance as Steve's curved over when he realised he had made a judgment based on Danny's appearance and attitude. ‘You assumed I must be a drug addict? I get it. You don't have to explain.' He sniffed out a laugh and walked towards the door. ‘Looking forward to next week, Kate. Always a pleasure,' he smirked as he pushed his way through the double doors.

  I braved Steve’s face. It was a mixture of confusion and anger. ‘Is it always just the two of you left alone at the end of the night?’

  I started to pick up my bags. ‘No. I went to check the bathrooms before I left and he was still in there washing his hands.’ The explanation almost covered the situation I had just found myself in.

  ‘Does he come to sessions every week? He seems familiar with you.’

  ‘He’s a very talented artist,’ I replied.

  ‘When he isn’t high on drugs,’ he snorted.

  Rage swirled from around my ankles and up towards my fingers, causing me to stretch them out to try to crack away the tension. I shook my head slowly. ‘Why are you here?’

  ‘I thought we could talk. Maybe think about trying again.’

  ‘Steve…don’t do this. We’re finished,’ I said. ‘You shouldn’t be here. Do you even realise what you’re saying? You made a judgment about one of the participants when you know nothing about him.’

  ‘The participants or just him?’ He stepped in front of the door to stop me from locking up. ‘Is there something I need to know, Kate?’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ I protested too loudly. I needed to think clearly but I just couldn't. I didn't want to forget the feelings that were still pulsing through my body. I didn't want to forget the heat of his mouth next to mine or the deep sense of longing that I had been pushing down since the moment I first laid eyes on Danny Benedichi.

  Steve stepped to the side, watching me with a cautious look but allowing me as I finished locking up. ‘I was going to suggest I put the bike in your boot and we could go for a drink, but I've changed my mind. I think I'll just get off,' he said as he strapped his cycling helmet under his chin. ‘I'll call you when you've cooled down and come to your senses about this. About us.'

  I don't know what caused the next moment of clarity but it completely overtook my body and my natural instincts to please, accept flaws, and sidestep confrontation suddenly got smaller, wrapping themselves inside each other until they were sitting dormant on the floor beside me. Maybe it was energy from the centre, my newfound excitement and confidence at being part of something so wonderful and unique. Or perhaps it was Danny, his whispering breath against my ear, his dirty words and air of sexual confidence that I found so attractive. I remembered Mum's inscription at the front of the photo album full of love letters from my father. ‘Don’t settle.’ It was echoing and bouncing and getting louder until I couldn’t drown it out anymore.

  I started to mentally go through the months I'd wasted, not just with Steve but my other boyfriends, and suddenly the fear of wondering what life was going to be like without him evaporated in front of me.

  ‘Don't come here again and don't call me.' I blew out a breath and stroked the palm of my hand across my forehead. I needed to collect my nerves, hold on to everything that felt so un
familiar in my head and never let it go. Endings were never going to be easy for me. I could be persuaded to give anything else another go just through a wobbly lip and a pleading look, but I knew I had to follow this through. ‘We're done. I meant what I said. Stop trying to get the ladies from book club to talk me into giving you another chance, and stop leaving boxes of vegetables on my doorstep!'

  ‘Is it him? The bad boy drug addict with the tattoos and dirty attitude?' I would have been offended if he wasn't straddling his bike with a flashing light on top of his helmet. If anything, that flashing light was sending me Morse code signals to keep up the good work of calling off our relationship. ‘Are you having a midlife crisis?'

  ‘I'm twenty-six!' I shouted. ‘We're not middle-aged! You shouldn't get excited about a particularly difficult crossword in the Times or disappointed to the point of depression if slugs eat your crop of cabbages. We should be going out to parties, or, more to the point, staying in ravishing each other because we can't get enough of the feel of each other's skin!'

  ‘Calm down. What’s got into you?’ he said, his light still flashing.

  ‘Steve,' I sighed. ‘I'm tired of settling for something half-hearted. I'm sick of accepting something because it's mutually convenient or because I just can't bear to say goodbye to someone who's invested their time in me.'

  ‘What’s happened to you? Is this because of your childhood,’ he said, using mid-air quotation marks like a dick. ‘Are you pushing me away before I push you away, that kind of thing?’

  I huffed out a tense breath. ‘Just because you read one of my social work books does not make you an expert on how adoption has impacted my life.’ I was frustrated and tired of holding back the pieces of myself that I felt I should hide away because they wouldn’t be accepted or might offend someone else. I constantly felt the need to trample down or tamper with wandering thoughts until they were dull and lifeless. ‘I need more, Steve. I want passion. I want crazy stupid love. I want someone to take the control away from me. I want to be picked up and carried over someone’s shoulder until they throw me on the bed. I want to be shagged senseless’ I shouted with my arms widespread.