Not Enough

by Mia Hoddell

  “Fine. Well you’ve done that and I need to go.”

  “Okay, bye Mum.” She doesn’t reply. The only answer I get is the dial tone when she hangs up on me. I throw the phone to the bottom of the bed and curl up against Blake, drawing comfort from his embrace.

  “You okay?” he murmurs into the top of my hair.

  “At least I tried, right?” I feel my eyes starting to drift closed. Today’s exertions have finally caught up with me.

  * * *

  “If I ask you to do something without telling you what it is, would you agree to it?” I carry a bowl of popcorn into the living room and drop down on to the sofa next to Blake. We left the Reynolds’ later than expected but still managed to make excellent time in getting back to the flat—arriving home just after three in the afternoon.

  “If I say yes are you going to test me?”

  “You can’t answer with a question, I asked you first.”

  “But I want to make sure I don’t trap myself into doing something ridiculous. If I say yes you could ask me to do anything.”

  “So you’re saying no?”

  He shrugs non-committedly. “I think the better question is why you won’t tell me what we’re doing. That alone is enough to raise red flags. It either means I won’t like it or won’t agree with it.”

  Damn, he knows me too well. I don’t respond for a minute, trying to think of something to say to persuade him to agree without me revealing what it is I want.

  “Just spit it out, Stripes. Tell me what you want.”

  “You won’t like it.”

  “I already figured that one out, remember?” He cocks an eyebrow, waiting for me to continue.

  With a sigh, I know I’m not going to get away with keeping it a secret. “Would you take me to see my mum? I feel bad that’s she’s all alone.”

  I cringe inwardly, waiting for the confident no. Instead I’m met with silence and when I look up at him, his eyes are shut. He’s pinching the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath, and his mouth is set in a firm line.

  “Why?” he asks finally around his exhale.

  I’ve been having the same thoughts all the way home, and if I don’t understand what’s compelling me to do this, I can’t expect Blake to understand. There’s something inside of my mind telling me it’s the right thing to do. Of course, that side is also being shouted down by the other half of me that remembers all of the shit she’s pulled. Nevertheless, I can’t help but feel I need to give her a chance. It’s Boxing Day and I want to live knowing that I’ve tried everything possible to build a relationship. On some level I believe that once I know there isn’t anything more I can do, I’ll be able to move on.

  Yeah, I’m a masochist.

  “Neve? If you want me to take you then I need to know why.” Obviously I’ve been quiet for longer than I thought mulling over that million pound question.

  “It feels like the right thing to do.”

  “You aren’t going to fall apart on me after are you?”

  I want to say no, but the fact is I have no idea whether it’s true. “You think this is a stupid idea, don’t you?”

  “Of course! Every time you go into that house you come out a different person. She kills another piece of you and for the last few days you’ve been happy. And I mean really happy.” The ferociousness in his words shocks me. I didn’t expect him to start shouting, and my body recoils from the conflict on instinct. Even when she’s not in the room she causes a divide, although I’m not willing to lose Blake over her.

  Neither of us says anything as Blake collects himself. He takes a deep breath, and out of the corner of my eye I see him clenching and unclenching his hands. I’m focused on mine, trying to twist my fingers together into some odd shape just to keep my mind occupied.

  “I’m sorry, Stripes. I didn’t mean to get mad, but that’s what the idea of you getting hurt does to me. I hate that you allow her to do it and that I can’t stop you … I wish you wouldn’t,” he murmurs the last sentence and leans forward, resting his elbows on his legs and his head in his hands. If only he knew the true depth of my feelings and what I’ve thought about doing in the past, he wouldn’t be apologising. He’d be tying me to the chair and wrapping me in bubble wrap if he knew the screwed up thoughts my mum gives me.

  “It’s fine, Blake. I’ll catch the bus, it’s not fair on you, you’re right.”

  “It’s not fair on you and you’re still doing it,” he grumbles.

  “She’s my mum.”

  “She’s been a shit mother and you know it.”

  I gasp. We’ve both known the truth for years, but to hear it out loud is a first. He’s never fought me like this before. “She’s all I’ve got.”

  “Don’t do this Neve. We were good, you were good. You have me. Isn’t that enough?”

  “Please don’t make this about us, Blake. It’s not. This is something I have to do, I have to at least try and make it right.”

  “She’s never going to change and you know it.”

  “At least I can never blame myself again then.”

  “You blame yourself anyway; you will always blame yourself because you believe her. When are you going to realise you’re better than this? You deserve better, and should be able to believe in yourself. Stop letting her knock you down and manipulate you.”

  “She’s not manipulating me.”

  “Really? She acts like you’ve hurt her and you go running over there. What about all of the times she’s hurt you, Neve—really hurt you—and never once apologised. She doesn’t deserve for you to care about her after the limits she’s pushed you to. Forget about her and move on.”

  I freeze at his words, wondering if he knows more than he’s led me to believe. I’ve never told him how dark my mind got, so I can’t understand how he would have figured it out. No one saw me on that riverbank months ago. I’m sure of it.

  Standing, I prepare myself to leave rather than fight, but when I catch a glimpse of the clock I realise that the next bus isn’t running for another hour. Friggin’ small town and its ridiculous schedule!

  “You’re still going then? I can’t say anything to change your mind.” He’s still angry, but at least he’s lowered his volume.

  “Yes, I’m going.” I head into our room hastily before the argument can erupt again. Locking the door behind me, I pull out my laptop. It’s the only way I know how to get rid of these overwhelming feelings surging within me.

  From: Neve Colvin

  To: Neve Colvin

  How do you do this? How can you be so malicious and toxic but still make me feel guilty about cutting you off? I left home to be free of you, but that’s never going to happen. Despite what you think I can’t forget you … and believe me I want to. I want it so much it’s slowly killing me.

  Why is it so hard for you to accept me and my decisions?

  I was happier than I have been in a while yesterday, and I tried to not let you ruin it, but I had to pick up the friggin’ phone, didn’t I? And then you had to go and be the bitch that you are. You couldn’t have spoken to me like a normal person. Instead I get this cold personality that you only allow me to see. I bet you answered the phone with your fake, cheery voice to everyone else.

  Even after that, though, I still want to see you. Is it so hard to just accept me? That’s all I’m asking for. I wish you were proud of me and could prove Blake wrong, but I doubt that’ll ever happen. And now Blake and I are fighting because of you. Somehow your poison has reached me even here.

  I don’t know why I’m fighting for you, but one of us has to and it’s not going to be you. Maybe if you knew you’ve pushed me so far I’ve considered unspeakable things you’d change. However, knowing you, you’d probably just add a few more labels to your already mile long list.

  I am sorry I hurt you by not coming round for Christmas, that wasn’t my intention. All I wanted to do was protect myself, and even that failed.

  I shouldn’t want to see you. I shouldn�
�t act upon these feelings. But there’s a small part of me that hopes if I try hard enough you’ll come around. That’s why I have to see you today. If I don’t make the effort I’ll never know, and I can’t live knowing I gave up when we had options. No matter what you think, I’m not a quitter.

  “Neve?” Blake’s voice from the other side of the door startles me from my writing. When I glance down at the clock, I notice I’ve managed to kill enough time to go for the bus. Sending the email, I shut down my laptop and stride over to the door. I’m not going to get in another fight. If Blake doesn’t want to take me that’s up to him, and whether he agrees with my choice or not he’s going to have to deal with it.

  As I open the door Blake stumbles into the room head first. He must have been resting against the wood. “You still want to go?”

  “You’re not talking me out of this, Blake. I’ve made up my mind.”

  He massages his forehead, screwing his eyes shut as if praying for strength. “I wasn’t going to talk you out of it. I was going to say I’ll come with you … if you want me to.”

  “It’s up to you. I don’t want this to come between us and I don’t want you to feel it’s your responsibility to pick up the pieces and clear up our mess.”

  He rolls his eyes like I’ve just stated the most ridiculous thing ever. “I’m always going to feel responsible for you, Stripes. I’ve felt it’s my job to look out you since we were six and Aaron Slates stole your ice-cream. I don’t care how many times I have to pick you up as long as you’re by my side at the end of it and I can still make you happy.”

  My heart spikes at his words. He’s one of the sweetest guys in the world and I really don’t deserve him. He should be with someone who has less baggage. “Everyone has a limit, Blake. You wouldn’t be saying that if you knew everything.”

  My steps come to a grinding halt, causing Blake to crash into my back. We both stumble, our arms shooting out to latch on to anything within reach to stop ourselves from face planting the floor. I catch myself on the sofa, and Blake manages to regain his balance. Why the hell did I just say that? It’s an invite for questions I don’t want.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing, I was being dramatic,” I say too quickly and refuse meet his eyes.

  “Neve, what haven’t you told me?” At his wary tone I look up to see suspicion and nervousness swirling in his gaze.

  “Nothing. Let’s just go okay.” He’s not going to drop it. The way his expression hardens in determination makes it clear we’re heading for another argument, so I say the only thing I can think of to placate him. “Please, let it go, Blake. If you really want to know I’ll tell you when we get back. I can’t get into this right now.”

  The statement probably panics him even more as to what I could be hiding, but I’m sure he can live with it for an hour. After all, I’ve carried the secret for months.

  “Don’t think I’ll forget, Stripes. I’m going to hold you to that.” He grabs the car keys and opens the front door, gesturing for me to walk ahead of him.

  * * *

  Sitting in the old living room at my mum’s house, the atmosphere is tense. The only sound that can be heard is the odd clanging of cups as she makes the drinks in the kitchen, leaving us both on the sofa. Neither of us dares to speak, not that we have anything to say. Blake’s focused on me as we wait for her to come back. By the thoughtful look in his eye, I imagine he’s trying to judge whether or not he needs to throw me over his shoulder and drag me from the room. I wouldn’t put it past him either.

  Giving him a quick smile that feels strained, Mum chooses that moment to come back into the room. She places two mugs of coffee—even though she knows I don’t drink it—in front of us and we both murmur our thanks. I pick it up because I need something to do with my hands, and the heat from the china also helps to quell my nerves. Without realising it, my mind automatically starts to compare how Ally made the hot chocolate for me, and how little effort my own mother went to. I can’t believe she resents me so much.

  “So how is everything going? Has your graphic design business taken off? Have you got any clients yet?” Mum fires off her usual repertoire of questions, asking them one after the other before I even have time to respond. I don’t want to answer any of them, knowing exactly where they’re all going to lead. They will allow her to dig further into my ‘failures’ as she so eloquently puts them.

  “I’m marketing things. It’s going to take time to develop.”

  “Is that a no then? You’re still sat around doing nothing.”

  I stiffen. “It’s an ‘I’m working on it’.”

  “You should network more. It’s all very well sitting behind a computer all day but people remember faces. You need to put yourself out there, get over this inability to socialise.”

  My grinding teeth is the only sound audible, and I’m surprised I have any molars left as I try to rein in the sharp retort I desperately want to speak. “I don’t have a problem socialising.”

  “Really? You’ve cut your family off, you cut me off, and you’ve cut all of your friends off. If that doesn’t sound drastic and abnormal I don’t know what does.”

  Blake’s hand moving towards my leg catches my eye and I shake my head. I don’t want Mum to start attacking him, and if he shows me any kind of affection I’m going to snap. Whether that breaking point would resort in tears or yelling I don’t want to find out.

  Thankfully, he notices my reaction and withdraws it, taking another sip of his drink like that was what he had been intending all along.

  “I haven’t cut you off. I’m here now, aren’t I? I also phoned you on Christmas Day.”

  “What about everyone else, huh? Your behaviour at Sia’s wedding was awful and I doubt you have had any contact with Cece or your other friends.”

  Like she even knows the half of what went on. Her family will have twisted everything, and she’ll never accept what Cece is like or why we’re not compatible as friends.

  “I’m not going to sit here and apologise if that’s what you’re angling for, Mum. I defended myself at the wedding, and if your family wasn’t so judgemental then it wouldn’t have happened at all. With regards to Cece and that worthless lot, I never want to see them again. It wasn’t me who cut them off; they stopped talking to me once we left uni. They forgot about me and moved on. We were too different to work it out and I’m better off not knowing them.” My anger is quickly spilling over as my words run away with me. I can’t help it when she’s constantly putting me down.

  “You need to get out more, Neve. It isn’t healthy isolating yourself from everyone. I’m only saying this because I’m concerned about you.”

  “Who says I don’t go out? You don’t know what I do. I’m also around Blake and his roommate constantly.”

  “You need a change of scenery, fresh air, new people to talk to. What you’re doing isn’t good for you.”

  I take in a deep breath, trying to compose myself. “Why does it matter as long as I’m happy? You never ask whether I’m happy doing what I am. Shouldn’t that be the most important thing to you?”

  “It’s not healthy! Normal people don’t cut themselves off from everyone who loves them.”

  It’s a knee jerk reaction and I can’t help the sarcastic snort I emit.

  Big mistake.

  Mum’s eyes home in on me, her face getting redder as anger clouds her eyes. “What? You think I don’t love you? You think everyone at that wedding doesn’t love you and wouldn’t do anything for you?”

  I shrug. I’m not playing her games. If I tell the truth then she’ll up the ante, and I refuse to get into a slanging match with her. She’ll have to stop eventually. This isn’t what I came here for.

  “Answer me, Neve. Do you or do you not think they love you?”

  Remaining silent, I focus on the bare trees that look dead without their coat of leaves swaying in the wind.

  “Do you or do you not think they love you?”
She’s becoming more irate.

  “They don’t care about me one way or the other. Sure, if my business took off, they’d want to know then, but they’re the same as everyone else right now. They think I’m making a mistake and only going to fail then come crawling home—”

  “They think nothing of the kind!” she screams indignantly, once again choosing to side with them over me.

  “Don’t interrupt me.” I keep my voice calm and detached; I’m not going to get emotional over everything in front of her, or sink to her level. When she opens her mouth to yell at me again for ordering her to do something, I continue quickly. “They do. You’re blinded by your need for everyone to like you. You can’t see them for what they really are, let alone speak bad about them, but they’ve always singled me out. I’ve always been different and they don’t know how to deal with me. You even told them all to speak to me one-on-one because apparently I can’t handle group situations. If that’s not singling me out and turning me into a socially inept loser I don’t know what is. I’m not going to be the butt of everyone’s jokes, or submit myself to their behaviour just because they’re relatives. I bet they don’t even notice me missing. Are you seriously trying to tell me that it’s healthier to hang around people who treat me like shit?”

  “You manifest this behaviour. They’re joking and playing with you, they never mean it maliciously. You’re blowing everything out of proportion.”

  That’s right, it’s always my fault. Everyone else is perfect compared to me and she loves to throw that in my face. I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I have never done anything to them except be myself, and it’s not like you can comment. You’re never around to see how they treat me. You’ve always left me in a corner and buggered off to play hostess in the kitchen, even when it’s not your house, so everyone can think you’re such a good person.” Tired of restraining myself, I can’t hold back my words any longer. I know she’s going to go up and up on her scale of crazy, but if I don’t let it out it’s going to eat away at me, then Blake’s going to have to listen to it at home.