I Love You to Death

by Natalie Ward

  He shrugs as if it’s no big deal, even though I can see from his face he knows that it is. "Yeah I figured he’d be lonely in there without the company, so you know, I got him a friend."

  God, if only he knew.

  Luke’s watching me like he’s trying to work out if what he’s done is a good thing. I turn away to look at my new fish, swimming around with the old one. A new friend, someone to hang out with. This is definitely not a sign.

  I turn back to look at Luke. "Thanks," I say. "Can I make you a coffee?"

  Luke keeps watching me. Neither of us says anything for a minute before he finally asks, "Are you okay Ash?"

  I swallow. I can’t let him in. I just can’t. It’s too dangerous. I try smiling. "Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for the fish, he’s cute. Coffee?"

  I watch as he keeps looking at me. I can tell he isn’t buying it, but he says nothing except, "Yeah, that’d be great, thanks Asha," before heading back to the kitchen.

  We don’t talk much for the rest of the morning, but after the lunchtime crowd has gone, Luke appears out the front again, this time with a plate in his hands.

  "Here Ash, I made some lunch for you," he says, setting it down on the counter.

  I’m wiping down the coffee machine, but stop and look over at him. This is a new development.

  "Come and try it," he says, smiling at me as he nods his head towards the plate.

  I wipe my hands on a cloth and walk over to stand in front of him. "Can I get you something to drink?" I ask as I glance down at the sandwich he’s made me. It’s huge and I’ll be lucky if I can eat even half of it. It looks really good though and my stomach makes a rumbling noise in response, one that’s loud enough for both of us to hear.

  "Nah, I’m good thanks," Luke replies smiling as he stands there watching me.

  I pick up one half and gesture to the other. "Help me out," I say to him.

  Luke smiles at me again before leaning over to pick up the other half of the sandwich. We stand in silence, facing each other on opposite sides of the counter, sharing this sandwich Luke has made me. Between us is the fish tank and I can’t help but stare at it, sitting right here in front of us. I watch the two fish swim aimlessly around in circles, the old goldfish and the new black one, and I risk another quick glance up at Luke. He’s standing there watching me still, with a half smile on his face as he eats.

  "What do you think?" he asks me, gesturing to the food in my hand.

  I nod, finishing my mouthful. "Yeah it’s really good. Thanks for making it for me."

  Luke’s smile gets a little bigger as he says, "No problem, I’m glad you like it. I thought I’d try something new and wanted to see what you thought." He’s watching me intently now and I get the feeling he’s going to say something else, but he doesn’t, just takes another bite.

  I blink.

  Suddenly, I’m not sure that the sandwich is the only thing we’re talking about here, but I can’t let myself read too much into it, it’s definitely not a sign.

  ∞

  For two weeks we had lunch every day. Every day Adam would come to the library and get me, and we’d sit out on the lawn under a tree and have lunch together. At first I didn’t talk much, I was too nervous now we were out in the open and could never think of anything to say, but Adam just filled the silence. He talked and talked, telling me about his classes, playing basketball, anything. I loved listening to him, the sound of his voice, the ease with which he spoke, all of it. Gradually he took away my nervousness, gradually I started talking too, first only asking him questions, but eventually telling him things about me. For two weeks we did this, and then everything changed, again.

  He kissed me and suddenly it all became very real. And he did it in the hall, at my locker in front of everyone, like he didn’t care who saw it. He just stepped in, his hand gently brushing my cheek as he pressed his lips to mine. I was so surprised I don’t think I did anything at first. I remember he pulled back a little and smiled at me. I remember he whispered, "I’ve been dying to do that for ages," before leaning in and gently kissing me again. I kissed him back this time but it wasn’t until much later that I thought about the words he’d just whispered to me.

  The day after that kiss, Adam took me out on a date, even met my Dad. I was nervous as hell, but Adam was very cool about it all, shook my Dad’s hand, promised to have me home by midnight and didn’t touch me until we were in his Mom’s car. I nearly jumped out of my skin when he rested his hand on my leg as we drove off. He took me to a burger bar and then a movie. By the time we’d reached the movie theatre we were holding hands and I was finally starting to relax.

  Before the movie was over we were making out and I was feeling positively magic. It was like everything just went away and I became someone else when I was with him. I don’t know how he did it but the shyness disappeared, my nervousness about what would happen, somehow Adam took all of that away. Everything disappeared and it became just me and him, just us.

  When he leant over as the credits rolled and whispered in my ear, "I really like you Ash," I nearly melted. After that night Adam was officially my boyfriend and I was no longer so afraid.

  By the time Adam and I had been together for six months, things went a lot further. I was pretty sure Adam had done it before, but me, it was my first time. I wasn’t scared about doing it though, not with him. So the night my Dad went out on one of his rare dates, I invited Adam over. I’m sure he guessed my intentions as soon as I opened the door, but he was good about it, and didn’t rush me when I told him, "Dad is out for the night, and won’t be home until much later."

  He just smiled and asked if we should order some pizza. About two hours later though, we couldn’t keep our hands off each other, so when I suggested we go upstairs, Adam looked at me and said, "You sure?"

  I smiled at him, pulling him up as I answered, "Yeah I’m sure."

  "Ash," he said holding my hand. "I don’t want to rush you, or do anything you don’t want to do."

  I stepped towards him then and kissed him quickly before answering, "I want to do this Adam. I really want to do this with you."

  So we went upstairs and everything changed. Yes it hurt, but Adam was so gentle, so caring and he was always making sure I was alright. I was and I was very glad I’d waited, done this with him. I had no regrets, no worries. Right up until my Dad came home.

  We must have dozed for a while, it’s the only reason I can think of for why Adam was still very much in my bed and very much naked when Dad came home. Luckily Adam had walked over, so his Mom’s car wasn’t in the drive, but we still had to find a way to get him out before my Dad saw him. I managed to yell out to Dad that I was awake and would be down in a second. When I turned around Adam was pulling his jeans on and looking petrified. I walked over to him and said, "Hey, it’s ok, slow down, he won’t come in, I promise."

  Adam stopped and looked at me, his hand reaching out to smooth my hair back before he said, "Yeah but if he does and finds us like this, then I’m dead!"

  I laughed quietly. "Yeah maybe, but he won’t come in, don’t worry."

  "Thank god I couldn’t have the car," Adam whispered as he finished getting dressed. "I’ve never been more glad I had to walk in all my life."

  When we were both dressed I looked at Adam and said, "You wanna go out the window? My brother used to do it all the time."

  Adam stepped towards me then, a lot more relaxed now we both had our clothes on. "What I really want to do is crawl back into that bed with you," he whispered before kissing me gently. I could feel my legs turn to jelly, the want build up in me, the desire to try it all over again. "But I think maybe the window is a smarter option."

  I smiled then, before leaning in to kiss him and whisper, "Thanks for coming over tonight."

  He pulled me closer to him then, wrapping his arms around me as he said, "Thank you Ash, thank you."

  And that’s when I knew I was head over heels in love with him. That’s when I knew, it really was
real, and that he felt exactly the same way. Somehow without either of us saying it, I knew. The funny thing is, I never actually told Adam exactly how I felt about him. I was still too afraid to say those words and I guess a part of me wondered how real they were, I mean we were kids for god’s sake, what did we know.

  Sometimes I wish I hadn’t fallen for him, but other times I wouldn’t have traded those six months for anything and I just wish I could’ve told him how I felt, while I still had the chance. But in the end he died never knowing.

  I wish that could absolve me from what happened, but it can’t and it never will. It was still all my fault.

  ∞

  Late the next day, after Luke has once again made me some lunch, which we have once again eaten together, I’m walking into the kitchen to return the plate when I can’t help but overhear him on the phone. It’s hard not to as he seems pretty angry with whoever he’s talking to and is not exactly speaking quietly. I really need to get some milk from the cold room while I’m out here, so I drop the plate in the sink and silently walk over to it, trying very hard not to look at him or act like I’m listening to the conversation.

  But I can’t help but hear some of it.

  "….No! You can’t fucking do that!"

  He sounds very angry.

  "….you don’t control her, she’s an adult and you can’t tell either of us what to do anymore."

  I wonder who he’s referring to, who he’s talking to like this. I slip into the cold room and wait there for a minute, my back resting against the cold wall. It’s nice sometimes, to escape in here, where the rest of the world is somewhere else and the cold temperature can dull everything. Still I hear fragments of conversation coming through.

  "….fucking hell, why can’t you just accept it. Why can’t you stop trying to control everyone and everything? Why can’t you just listen to anyone for once in your life? Don’t fucking call me again!"

  I’ve never heard Luke talk like this before, never heard him get angry at anything. Finally he stops yelling and I hear the sound of a phone being thrown against something hard, probably the kitchen wall. I look around the cold room trying to decide whether now’s a good time to walk back out. I secretly hope Luke has left the kitchen so I don’t have to see him, don’t have to let him know that I’ve heard the things he has said.

  I quickly grab a two gallon bottle of milk and push the door open, taking a chance. When I step out, I see Luke is crouched down beside a phone that is now in several pieces on the floor. He looks up at me and I can see frustration and sadness on his face. He looks like he wishes he hadn’t done that, but that there was nothing he could do to stop it. I immediately feel bad for him and without thinking I crouch down and begin to pick up the pieces of shattered phone as well.

  "Are you okay?" I whisper without looking at him, still picking up the tiny pieces of black plastic from the floor.

  I see him reach over and throw all the pieces he has collected into the trash. "No, yes…I don’t know." He sounds very frustrated.

  I stop and look at him. He’s still crouched on the floor, his hand running over the top of his head. "Do you want to talk about it?" I surprise myself by asking, wondering why I keep doing this with him.

  He looks at me now, his hand reaching out to collect the phone pieces I’m holding. I drop them into his outstretched palm and watch as he throws them into the trash with the others. We are both crouched down, opposite each other. Neither of us says anything for what seems like ages and we are both now looking anywhere but at each other. Finally it’s Luke who speaks. "It’s okay Ash, it’s a long story, but thanks anyway."

  "You sure," I ask again, surprised that I’m pushing this.

  He stands up now and reaches out his hand for me. Without thinking I take it and let him pull me up. He doesn’t drop my hand straight away and I find myself holding my breath standing there waiting. My hand feels warm in his. His skin feels soft and smooth. Our fingers are almost laced together.

  It hurts; this connection. It hurts how much I want it.

  Luke smiles at me as he says, "I think I need to get a new phone."

  I turn to look at the trash, slowly pulling my hand from his. "Yeah I think so," I answer quietly without looking back at him.

  Before he leaves, Luke comes over to me on his way out of the shop. We are closed, but I’m busy counting the money in the till. I look up as he stands in front of me.

  "Hey," he says quietly.

  "Hey."

  "Thanks for earlier," he says running his hand over his head again. "I’m sorry you had to hear that, see that."

  I swallow before looking around. Neither Sarah nor Liam is nearby. I turn back to Luke. "I actually didn’t mean to hear anything," I say.

  He smiles at me now. "Yeah I know you didn’t. It’s just, well I’m not normally like that. So sorry you had to see it and well, thanks."

  I shrug and smile back at him. "It’s okay, sometimes phones need to be thrown."

  He laughs a little now. "Yeah I guess sometimes they do"

  "I have a spare one at home. You can have it if you want?" I’m not sure why I just said that, but it’s too late to take it back now, and it’s not like Sam’s ever going to need his phone again.

  Luke says nothing at first, just smiles at me. Finally when I’m about to tell him not to worry about it, he responds. "Thanks Ash, but it’s okay. Goodnight, I’ll see you tomorrow," before walking out the door.

  "Goodnight," I whisper too late.

  I wonder what any of that was about.

  ∞

  I wasn’t going to go to Adam’s funeral. I just couldn’t face the prospect of saying goodbye to my first real boyfriend, especially after everything that had happened, after that night with him. In the end Dad convinced me I should go, said it was a chance to say goodbye, get some closure or something. I’m sure deep down a part of him knew what had really happened that night. Why else would Adam have been where he was when he died. There was only one place he could have been coming from, only one person he would have been seeing. Dad had to have known, but he never said anything and I never could bring myself to admit it out loud either.

  It was Dad who had found out what happened first. It was the following day when Adam’s Mom rang our house. Dad answered because I was still in bed, trying to hang on to the smell of Adam as he lingered on my sheets. She told Dad what’d happened and then Dad told me. It didn’t make the pain any less having Dad tell me, but at least someone was there to hold me when I found out.

  They said Adam was walking home really early Sunday morning when he’d been hit by a car. Whoever hit him hadn’t stopped and it was the driver in the car behind who saw the whole thing. They aren’t sure if the driver who hit him was drunk, but they were definitely speeding.

  Adam was left lying on the side of the road. Massive internal injuries apparently. Dead before the ambulance even got there. There was a witness, who stopped, called the police. They waited with him while he slowly died on the side of the road. It was the emergency room doctors who called his parents. They came and identified the body. The police were still investigating, trying to find the driver. They had a partial plate number, but it had been dark and it had all happened so quickly. Of course he never should have been walking home at that time. Never should have been walking home at all.

  All through the funeral, as the priest droned on and on, all I could see were images of that last night with him. The moment when he came upstairs and into my room. My racing heart, my open curtains and the moonlight streaming in. His skin, the feel of it against mine. His kisses. And his touch, the touch of his fingers on my body, how much I wanted it, how much I wanted more of it.

  And all I could think about as I sat there staring at his coffin, is how much I wished I’d said I love you. I had so many chances during that night, when he’d held me wrapped in his arms as though he was trying to hold us both together. I wish I’d just said it, even if he never said it back to me.

 
; But I didn’t and that was the last time I ever saw him. The last time he ever held or kissed me. The first and only time I ever felt his skin against mine. And sitting there at his funeral, all I could do now was silently tell him that I loved him, knowing he would never hear me say the words at all.

  ∞

  When I fell in love with Sam, I wasn’t going to waste time waiting to tell him how I felt. I knew it as soon as I met him. And I knew I wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to tell him either, not again, not like last time. The funny thing was, in the end it was Sam who said it first. And he said it so naturally, so unexpectedly that for a second I wasn’t sure whether it really happened. For a second it looked as though even he didn’t fully realise what he’d just said out loud.

  We’d only been together for about two weeks. I was still staying in his room in the tiny cramped apartment he shared with Simon and Brandon, but had finally landed myself a job. I’d started paying rent and buying food, but I still got the feeling that neither of those two liked me bunking down here too much. That maybe I was cramping their style and they were starting to resent the fact I was living with them all. But every time I’d brought it up with Sam, all he said was, "I don’t really care what they think Ash. I want you to be here."

  "Yeah but it’s uncomfortable them not wanting me here Sam," I said. "I feel like I’m intruding all the time."

  "I’ll talk to them babe, I promise I’ll talk to them both."

  I was lying in bed watching him get ready for school. He had an early class that day but I didn’t start work till lunch time. "You will?" I asked him.

  I remember he walked back towards the bed, which was really just a double mattress on the floor, where he knelt down and kissed me before saying, "I will Ash, I promise I will. I gotta go, I love you babe."

  We both froze after those words were out. I was looking at him waiting, trying to see if they were said as a mistake, whether he wanted to take them back. He was looking at me as though he was expecting me to freak out because he’d just said those words out loud.