by A. E. Murphy
Sorrow joins the concern in his eyes. “You’re still leaving me, aren’t you?”
“I…” I can’t look away. “Yes.”
“But…”
“I don’t trust you.”
He looks away as my hand pushes his wet fringe from his forehead. “I would have given my life for you.”
This pierces my bubble of numbness but not enough to make me change my mind. “I would have done the same.”
“Don’t go,” he begs, his voice quiet, only just loud enough to hear over the noise. “I… you know how much I love you.”
“I know.”
“Then please stay.”
I shake my head. “I need to be alone.”
“I fucked up…”
“It’s not just about that.” I snap. “It’s not just about you or what you did. I’m free. For the first time in years I feel free.”
“What does that mean?”
My teeth trap my lower lip and his eyes longingly hold that region. “It means I’m free. For once I’m not scared or trapped. For once I’m fucking free and I need to try it for a while.”
“Why can’t you try that with me?”
“Because you ripped my fucking heart out when you lied to me.”
He winces and opens his mouth to argue but quickly shuts it again.
“I’m sorry, but I…”
“Don’t be. You can’t help how you feel.” He states coldly. “But just know that you’re ripping my fucking heart out right now.”
It’s my turn to wince. That’s not what I want. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Yet you are…” His laugh that follows is breathy and humourless. “Go… find your fucking freedom whatever that means.”
“Elijah.”
He turns away, trying to hide his distress and failing as I saw just how badly I’m hurting him in his eyes. “Fuck off, Olivia. Just go.”
His long legs carry him away from me and my evil self. I’ve never hated myself as much as I do now but I need time to myself. I need time to process and I wasn’t lying when I said that I can’t trust him. Not only that, the ease with which he can walk away from me only solidifies my feelings of mistrust.
Or so I thought. I feel his arms close around me from behind seconds after I turn and start on my own path. His soft lips touch my ear. “Please… please,” he whispers. “Don’t go.”
I can’t deny that a huge part of me wants to stay. It would be so easy to just be with him and contribute little but my body and the occasional stimulating conversation to this relationship. He’d end up thinking he owns me and I’d end up bored and feeling worthless.
Or maybe that’s my anxieties talking? All I know is, if I were to stay, I’d need to completely trust in not only him, but myself.
“I can’t.” I press my temple to his and hear his shuddering breath.
“You won’t come back.”
“You don’t know that.”
“You do.” He clears his throat and I daren’t look at him because I know that seeing his handsome face and eyes full of love and hurt will weaken my resolve.
“I can’t do this.” I pull free and clench my hands into fists. “I’m sorry.”
“Is this all you wanted me for? To help you get rid of Max?”
“If that’s truly what you believe then this is definitely for the best.” I respond coolly.
“What can I do?” He asks, sounding almost desperate as I move towards the road, needing to put as much distance between us as possible.
“Nothing.” I pull my phone from my pocket and call my mum. “There’s nothing you can do.”
Nine weeks, three days and eleven hours ago I walked away from Elijah. For two weeks I cried. My heart and soul felt hollow and empty and it took me writing notes to myself around the house to remind me of why I was doing this. Why I was leaving the man I love.
‘Find yourself.’
‘Don’t live your life for a man or because of a man. Live your life with one if you so choose.’
‘Stop stressing the FUCK out.’
‘Make your own decisions. Stop asking for second opinions on YOUR happiness.’
‘Be brave. Be smart. Be patient.’
‘Find a job, you lazy bitch.’
For the first few weeks, Elijah didn’t make it easy. He not only showed up to my mother’s house five times to talk to me – without success – he also sent gifts almost daily. Flowers, cereal, jewellery, clothes, cards, handwritten notes, the few pictures we have of our time together... Each one cut through me more and more until I told my mum to start sending them back and then he stopped sending them altogether.
As cruel as it may seem, he lied to my face numerous times and people that lie don’t change. I’m unwilling to give him a second chance based on that fact. I don’t want to be in a relationship with someone who will disrespect me and hurt me like that.
On the plus side, I’ve started taking dancing classes, street and ballroom. I want to study all forms until I’m too old to dance any longer. The problem with this is that it costs money and already I’m eating through my savings.
I also rejected Enri’s offer to have me pole dance in a video with him. I honestly can’t say that was for myself. I genuinely didn’t want to hurt Elijah any more than I have already.
Max received his sentencing two days ago. Because of the fact he is an immediate flight risk, they prioritised his trial and he’ll be spending a substantial amount of time on lockdown. I hope one day he’ll heal from all of this and find happiness. I hope one day he and Elijah can have a healthy sibling relationship, though I think I more or less screwed up any hopes for that.
I used to feel so guilty for what happened between Elijah and I, but if having a knife to my throat has taught me anything, it’s that life is a fucking cliché and you only live once. How can I regret something so beautiful and powerful? What Elijah and I have, had, was love. Real, true, love. To this day I can’t say that level of feeling for him has changed. It hasn’t; I’ve just learned how to handle it better.
Now that my divorce is final and so is the restraining order, I feel a new wave of grief. If Elijah hadn’t betrayed me the way he did, we’d be able to be together now, openly. I push that thought away and focus on the positives. Max is no longer a part of me beyond being a memory. For this I’m grateful and definitely happy. I feel as though I’m finally getting the relationship with my mother that I missed out on too, definitely a positive.
“You have a letter,” Mum yells from the hallway as I push my eggs and beans around my plate. It’s not the healthiest breakfast choice.
“There’s only one person who sends me mail,” I respond brokenly and circle another ad in the newspaper. It has only been nine weeks since I left Elijah. Things aren’t going to change overnight. Despite prowling through the city, handing in my CV everywhere I go, I’ve had no offers for interviews and even if I did, I’m not sure it’d put me on the path to happiness.
I feel as though I’m floating now, with no true direction. At least before I had Elijah, I was certain that I wanted him with the same insecurities about my future that I have now.
Mum places the white, rectangular envelope beside me on the table. I lift it with my free hand as my other continues playing with the fork on my plate.
“It’s hand written.” I daren’t open it, too fearful of what he has written. I just know it’s going to be some formal goodbye where he tells me he’s moved on and he’s hoping I’ll do the same. There isn’t a single ounce of me that wants to read that. “Throw it away before I cave.”
“Maybe you should just see what he has to say?” My mum just doesn’t get it.
Shaking my head, I take my plate and scrape the contents into the bin. “No. I know what it says.”
“How can you possibly know what it says?”
“Because he hasn’t called in six weeks, or sent a single message.”
“Well neither have you,” she points out, though it only prove
s my point.
“And I’m not going back.”
“Maybe he just made a mistake…”
“Don’t do that,” I snap, my frown deep. “Don’t defend him. He lied. I can’t come out of a relationship with a manipulative, abusive bastard and go straight into a relationship that is showing the same signs.”
“People lie all of the time. We’re human. You’re only judging Elijah because of his relationship to Max. That scares you.”
I nod. “You’re right, it does scare me and if I’m scared of Elijah it means I don’t trust him. I can’t be with somebody who might possibly end up fucking me up so badly I’ll never recover.”
“If you say so.” She sighs.
I pick up the letter and hold it over the bin. Once it’s gone there’s no going back. Do I truly want this?
“No,” I whisper to myself but I have to do this. I can’t… I can’t go back to that.
Elijah’s face lights up in my mind, his handsome smile, the mischievous twinkle in his eyes when attempting to seduce me. Tears burn and threaten to spill onto my cheeks. Will he remember how desperately I loved him? How desperately I still love him?
I wish signs were real. I wish somebody up there, wherever the fuck they are, would send me a sign right now to tell me what to do.
With a slam, the lid on the bin shuts, startling me and forcing me to pull back my hand. The one holding the letter.
Blinking slowly, disbelievingly and breathing heavily, I look up to the ceiling, shrug and say, “Okay, I’m convinced.” Then my fingers tear into the envelope as my mum closes the back door to keep out the strong wind.
I notice a piece of torn sticky tape clinging to the outside back edge of the envelope as I’m tearing it but I pay it little mind as the note from within falls onto the table. My fingertips feel like lead as I pinch the sides and read Elijah’s beautiful scrawl.
When I read the first line, my heart clenches so painfully I can’t be sure if I’m legitimately having a heart attack.
‘My beautiful, Enna-Olivia,
I’ll begin with the truth because I promised it to you. Last week I went on a date with a woman I met through a friend. We kissed at the end. It was a kiss like any other. The touching of mouths and moving of tongues… I’m certain you know how a kiss goes. As memory recalls, you definitely know how a kiss goes and you know well.
I don’t understand why he’s torturing me with this.
I wish I hadn’t wasted such energy on another. Truthfully the entire evening was a sham. I went for one reason and one reason only. Because I had heard that you had been in touch with a certain someone about a particular music video. Instead of listening to the ending I assumed the worst and I was so deeply affected I immediately sought to hurt you. When you said to me you had no interest in dancing for Lockhart and then I discovered you’d been in contact the moment we broke up, I thought the worst of you and as I said above, I sought to hurt you by using another. I have been a child. The pain I felt from simply believing that you were lying to me is excruciating. I can only apologise for inflicting such pain on you numerous times.
I now fully understand why you have left me and I don’t blame you. After everything Max put you through, for me to suddenly begin behaving the same and to treat you as less than my equal is appalling and I will forever be ashamed of myself.
Tomorrow, across multiple magazines, you’ll see me kissing another woman in front of the Hilton. I staged it that way. I wanted to be seen with Claire Esquire because I knew that you’d see it.
I know I’m a terrible person and I shan’t ask for your forgiveness, only a fresh start.
No longer will I pester you to return to me and act like a spoilt child not getting his own way. Instead I would like to come to you as your equal and ask, not demand.
If you give me one last chance, just one, I will never let you down. Join me in America as planned. I can’t continue living happily without you. That’s not emotional blackmail; it’s the truth.
I would like a fresh start to show you that I can be different; I can be all that you expect your partner to be. We can work together to build such a beautiful future. I wish I could show you the inside of my heart to prove to you just how wholly it beats for only you.
There is no other female or male in this world that could ever have a piece of it. If you abandon it it’ll be lost forever. I’ll become one of those men that marry simply to breed. I’ll be an empty shell; I can foresee my miserable future. Again… not emotional blackmail, only the truth.
Fact of the matter is, I MISS YOU. I LOVE YOU.
I can’t stand another day without you.
I followed you last week as you took your CV to multiple stores. You looked as sad as I am inside. You look more beautiful than I remember.
Please… give me… just one more chance to prove to you that I can be who you desire in every sense of the word.
Come with me to America in two months.
I promise you that I will never betray your trust again.
Just one more chance. What do you have to lose?
Here are some extra cheesy quotes that I have collected from the internet just to hopefully sweeten the deal.
You light up my life.
Are you religious? Because you're the answer to all my prayers.
Are you a camera? Because every time I look at you, I smile.
Did you sit in a pile of sugar? Cause you have a pretty sweet arse.
Do you have a plaster? Because I just scraped my knee falling for you.
Do you know what my shirt is made of? Boyfriend material. (My personal favourite).
If I were a stop light, I'd turn red every time you passed by, just so I could stare at you a bit longer.
I wanna live in your socks so I can be with you every step of the way.
If you were a vegetable, you'd be a cute-cumber.
XXX Elijah XXX
P.S. Think about it. You don’t even have to answer right away. If you haven’t been in touch by September thirtieth, I’ll assume you’re done with me and you’ll never hear from me again unless necessary.
His name becomes a blotch of black ink when one of my tears lands directly onto it.
“Did he win you over?” Mum asks, raising a sceptical brow. “Because…”
“I need to think.” She snatches the letter from my hands. “Hey, that’s private.” I don’t fight her for it. I actually think I need some kind of insight on this.
When she sniffs with sorrow and then laughs at the cheesy lines, the same as I did, I know he has won her over too.
“What have you got to lose, Baby?” Her voice is soft and quiet. “If it doesn’t work, you’re only going to feel like you do now anyway. What’s one more chance going to do? It could be the right decision.”
Fuck.
“That bastard kissed another woman.”
“That’s all you got from such a beautiful letter?” She scoffs.
“No, but… still.”
Her eyes sparkle with humour. “What are you going to do?”
Grabbing my cardigan from the end of the banister, I pull it on and pop a mint into my mouth to stop me from grinding my teeth with nerves.
“Where are you going?”
“To speak to him.”
“All it took is one letter?”
It seems silly. Do I seem weak? “What do I have to lose?”
“Exactly!” She grins and I pull open the door. My body collides with another, warm, soft and so familiar.
Before I can right myself or even step away, my mother has slammed the door shut and strong arms close around me. A nose touches my neck and inhales deeply.
“Olivia,” he murmurs and pulls back, looking better put together than I am. “What has you rushing from the house in such a hurry?”
“It wasn’t a list of cheesy lines, if that’s what you’re wondering,” I retort and his answering smile makes me weak at the knees.
“I feel like it’s been years,” h
e admits and presses his forehead to mine. “You smell different.”
“That’s not weird at all,” I jest and we laugh together. My laughter soon dissipates into a shudder and sharp exhale. “I ‘m sorry.” We say this together.
“Why are you sorry?”
“Don’t pretend I’m an angel. I’ve done silly shit too. Leaving you was…”
“Necessary.” Strong fingers slide around the back of my neck and squeeze. “Does this mean you’re no longer leaving me?”
“Were you so sure that I wouldn’t that you waited outside my house?”
His cheeks pink slightly. “No, actually I was so sure you’d ignore it I came to hand deliver this.” Pulling back, but keeping one hand tightly fisted around my jacket at the hip, he produces a small gift bag. “I bought this a long time ago and had it… well… just open it when you’re alone.”
A giggle escapes me as I take the sparkly silver bag. “Are you shy?”
“No,” he lies, his lower lip pouting slightly.
“I’m opening it now.” I tip the bag into my hand, revealing a dark blue velvet box. It fits perfectly on my palm. He takes the gift bag so I can open the box and I smile when I see him bite on his lower lip nervously.
“Before you open it…” His hand closes over mine that is ready to flip the lid. “Remember that…”
“Shut up and let me open it,” I tell him, grinning and finally lifting the lid. My breath catches in my throat as the sun catches the shimmering jewels that line the tail of the peacock pendant.
“I remember seeing your eyes light up when you saw that ridiculous thing at the auction. I didn’t know it then but I was in love with you.”
My eyes trace the inscription along the neck and body of the platinum broach.
‘Forever Enna’s’
