Indulge

by Liv Morris

  He led me inside and sat me down next to the heater, which he ramped up. He wrapped blankets around me and made me a cup of tea. Slowly my body temperature began to return to normal. The whole time, I didn’t say a word. I just stared blankly at the floor.

  “Jack, please talk to me,” Luke begged me. He tried to reach for my hand but I pulled it away.

  “I can’t,” I said hoarsely.

  “She would’ve forgiven you. You know that, right? She loved you.” He knew? I glanced up at him. If he knew what I had done, then why the hell was he here? Why did he care so much about what happened to me?

  “I killed her. She’s dead, and it’s my fault.” I said the words like it was that simple—as if there were no other possible explanation.

  “It was an accident. A tragic accident. What you don’t know is that her tire blew out. That is what caused her to crash. Not you.” His words registered in my head. I turned to him.

  “Which tire? Which tire was it?” I asked angrily. Luke looked confused, but he answered the question.

  “The front left. Why?” he asked. I shook my head. The same tire that brought us together had ripped us apart.

  “The day I met Belle, I gave her a lift home because her tire had a flat. The front left tire.”

  “Jack, you need to pull yourself together. You need to do it for Belle. The funeral is tomorrow and you need to be there. If you don’t go, you will regret it, you know that.”

  I nodded. I would regret it, but I wasn’t sure if I could say goodbye to her just yet.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  I glanced around the church, unable to shake the feeling that I didn’t belong there. My expression was grim, which matched my mood perfectly. There were about thirty people, just close friends and family. How Luke had managed to get me on the list, I had no idea.

  Surely it looked odd that I was here. Why would I have felt the need to go? As far as everyone knew, I was a future co-godparent who had met Belle twice. When Luke first told me her family knew nothing about our relationship, I was angry. I felt like they deserved to know what had happened. He hadn’t even told Sally.

  The hardest part was not showing any emotion. I didn’t trust myself not to lose it completely, so I forced myself to show nothing at all. I stood alone at the back of the church, staring at her coffin and the pink and white roses that covered it.

  I can’t do this. I can’t say goodbye to her, I need more time. Turning around, I went to leave and smacked hard into someone. I mumbled an apology. The person touched my shoulder. I glanced up.

  “Alex?” I asked. I hadn’t seen my brother in two years. He pulled me into his arms and hugged me. The moment his arms wrapped around me, that was it—I couldn’t pretend anymore. I began to sob, not caring how loud I was or how it looked. For once I didn’t give a shit about appearances.

  “It’s okay,” Alex soothed, his hold on me strengthening. “You need to do this, Jack. You’ll never move on if you don’t say goodbye.”

  I nodded. He was right: I couldn’t move on if I didn’t say goodbye, but I didn’t want to move on.

  He stood beside me through the service, his hand in mine, letting me know he was there for me. It was over quickly. Her mother spoke about her achievements, and Sally read a eulogy. I silently went through my own list of things to remember about Belle. The service was to be followed by a private burial with just immediate family.

  Luke came up to me and hugged me. “I’m sorry, man. I wish you could be there,” he said, his voice breaking. I wiped my eyes, which were red and puffy.

  “Why don’t you hate me, Luke? I need you to hate me right now,” I mumbled.

  “I don’t hate you because this is not your fault,” he answered. “Am I pissed at you for what you did? Yeah, but I don’t hate you. And I know nothing I can say could ever come close to what you are putting yourself through.”

  He had that much right. I was punishing myself more than anyone else ever could, and even then it wasn’t enough. I nodded numbly as Luke and Alex shook hands.

  “I better get back to Sally. Keep in touch, okay?” he said to both Alex and me.

  ***

  “Let me drive,” Alex said, patting my arm. I handed him the keys and slipped into the passenger seat. “Are you okay, Jack?” he asked, hesitantly.

  After a while, I nodded. “I’m…No, I feel like shit, but that’s to be expected, hey?” I mumbled.

  “Do you want me to take you home? Or one of your other places?” Alex asked as he started the car.

  “Home. I need to feed the cat,” I mumbled, gazing out the window.

  “I can go and feed him if you don’t—”

  “I need to go where I feel closest to her, and right now that’s home,” I cut in, my voice harsh. Immediately, I felt bad. “Look, I’m sorry,” I added, sighing. “I don’t know what I need right now.”

  “Don’t be sorry. Do what you need to do. Let it out. Yell. Scream. Cry. Whatever you feel, just let it out,” Alex said. We drove in silence, but there was nothing awkward about it. I didn’t feel obligated to try and fill it with mindless chatter, and Alex didn’t either.

  We arrived home to a very vocal Mr. Jefferies. The poor thing had been left alone for three days. He must have been starving. He rubbed up against Alex’s leg, ignoring me as if he were trying to punish me for not being around.

  “I’ll feed him. Where is his food?” Alex asked.

  “In the cupboard above the dishwasher,” I muttered, walking over toward the shelf that housed my scotch. I sighed as I popped open the top. Only four bottles left. I was running low. I could feel Alex’s gaze burning into me, so I turned my body slightly to block him out. That’s better. Now I can drink myself into a stupor without judgment.

  I opened the sliding door to the balcony and walked out, shutting it behind me, mindful of Mr. Jefferies. Not that he’d stray from his food bowl for the next half-hour, but I didn’t trust him not to leap off the balcony while trying to chase a bird.

  Walking over to the stone wall, I leaned against it, gazing out across the view. I was vaguely aware of the drops of rain falling from the grey sky before hitting my head and running down my neck. Balancing the bottle on the wall, I heaved myself up onto the stone and swung my legs over the edge. I sat there, staring down.

  Seven stories high looked much more frightening when you were sitting on the edge peering down. I leaned forward. The grassy covered area that overlooked the outdoor pool was directly beneath me. I wondered if falling from seven stories was high enough to kill me.

  Knowing my luck, I’d end up a quadriplegic.

  The sliding door opened as Alex joined me. He didn’t speak. Instead he walked up to the edge and glanced over.

  “Thinking of jumping?” he asked eventually.

  “Why not?” I asked, shrugging. “The only thing stopping me right now is I am not convinced it will do the job.” I reached for the bottle and took a mouthful. I handed it to Alex. He accepted, and took a sip.

  “You know no matter how shit everything looks at the moment, you have a lot to live for,” he said, his words laced with emotion. Was he serious?

  I laughed. “Like what? My amazing career? My loving family? Or maybe you’re talking to the friend I can’t look in the eye. The one I wish just hated me just as much as I hate myself right now.”

  “You have me,” Alex said simply.

  I sighed. “You’re half a world away from me, Alex.”

  “Then change that. Come to the U.S. You can live with me until you get back on your feet.”

  I looked at him. Was he serious? I couldn’t just pack up and leave for the U.S., could I?

  “I can’t just leave,” I said glumly.

  “What’s keeping you here?” he asked. That was a good question. Everything either reminded me of Belle or the person I used to be. It’s not like Dad would care. As far as I was concerned, Alex was my only family.

  “What about Mr. Jefferies?” I asked. Alex looked confu
sed, then began to laugh.

  “You’re only concern about packing up and leaving the country is your cat?” he chuckled. “He can come too.”

  The idea was tempting. I could start afresh in a new place, where nobody knew me.

  “I’ll think about it.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “Are you ready?” Alex asked. I glanced around my now bare flat. Everything I owned was on its way to the U.S., including my very unhappy cat.

  “I think so,” I said.

  Once the decision had been made to leave, the next two weeks were a whirlwind of preparations. All my belongings had been either given away or packed up for shipment, and I hoped Mr. Jefferies would forgive me for the thirty days he needed to spend in quarantine.

  Our flight wasn’t until the evening, but we needed to be at the airport by six.

  “Do you mind if I meet you there? I want to do a couple of things first.”

  Alex nodded, not pressing me for any further information. My first port of call was to see Luke, Sally, and their little girl, Lucia Annabelle Benson.

  Lucia was born the week before, and was a ray of light at an otherwise horrible time. She forced Belle’s family to pick up the pieces and move on, whether they were ready or not. Luke had still wanted me to be her godparent, but I just couldn’t do it. With all the hurt I had caused that family, the last thing they needed was me with a lifelong connection to them.

  Things between Luke and I were okay, but they would never be like they were before. I didn’t doubt we would stay in contact, and I truly hoped that one day I could restore our friendship to even a fraction of what it once was

  ***

  I arrived at Luke and Sally’s, my heart thumping hard in my chest. I knew I needed to do this, but it didn’t make it any easier. Thank god Sally’s parents weren’t around that day. Facing them would’ve made things a thousand times harder.

  I made my way up the path I’d walked a hundred times before, past the rose bushes and the cane chairs. I banged on the front door, momentarily forgetting there was a newborn baby inside who I had probably just woken up. Footsteps neared and the door flew open. Luke stood there, arms open. We hugged awkwardly. Well, it felt awkward for me at least.

  “Come in,” he smiled, cocking his head. “How are you?” he asked earnestly.

  I nodded. “I’m okay,” I said, actually meaning it for the first time in weeks. “How are Sally and Lucia?” I asked.

  Luke smiled, his gaze dropping slightly. “Lucia is wonderful. I don’t think the timing could’ve been any more perfect. I think we all needed this, you know?” he said, a wistful smile on his face. I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat.

  I followed Luke into the nursery, where little Lucia was asleep in her crib. She was so little, her tiny little hands clenched into fists. She had fair skin and a mop of blonde hair. She was so much like Luke it was incredible.

  “She looks like you, poor little thing,” I chuckled, gazing down at her. Luke punched my arm playfully. “Is Sally asleep?” I asked.

  Luke nodded. “This little one takes a lot out of her. Hey, do you want a drink?” he asked me. I shook my head.

  “No, I have a couple more things to do before I leave.”

  Luke nodded, and walked me back to the front door. He reached into his pocket and pulled something out.

  “I thought you might like this,” he said softly, handing me a small bag. I reached for it, a knot forming in my stomach. Inside was a picture of Belle. She was laughing, her smile stretched across her face. Something else fell out of the bag. I gasped when I realized what it was.

  Her necklace.

  I held up the tiny angel and stared at it, remembering the first time I saw her. My bottom lip quivered, threatening to give way to a fresh flood of tears.

  “Thank you,” I said, grasping his hand.

  ***

  My heart pounded as I slowed the car. I had no idea what the fuck I was doing there. The only conclusion I could come to was that I was insane. I sat in the car, the engine turned off, staring at the home where I grew up. The huge house felt so imposing. It looked so dark and uninviting.

  I hadn’t spoken to Dad since that day in the hallway. The day Belle died. What was I expecting by coming here? An apology? An explanation? Deep down I knew, even before entering the house, that I’d get none of those things. My father was an emotionless shell that sucked the life out of those around him. Getting away from that was something I needed to do before it was too late. I needed closure. This would likely be the last time I would ever see my father, and I needed to at least try and get some answers.

  I pressed the code into the security gates, half expecting it not to work. Changing all the codes after our fight was not something I would’ve put past him. I walked past the perfectly manicured lawns, the same ones I used to get yelled at for playing in, and up toward the front entrance.

  The house was huge, with its six bedrooms, four bathrooms, and several living areas. As a child I’d felt lost here, empty—the same feelings I was experiencing now. As I rang the doorbell, a wave of anxiety swept over me. What would I say? Why the hell was I even here? It suddenly hit me how stupid and pointless this was. He was never going to tell me what I wanted to hear.

  Before I could walk away, the door opened. My father stood there, his expression blank. There was no surprise, no happiness. Nothing. My father honestly felt nothing toward me.

  “Jack,” he said. A slight eyebrow raise was the only acknowledgement I received.

  “I came to say goodbye,” I said, my voice showing a strength I certainly wasn’t feeling right then. “I’m leaving, going to live with Alex,” I added.

  He snorted and moved aside. I walked past him, inside the foyer.

  I hadn’t been there in years. Our every meeting took place somewhere neutral, like a bar, or my office. I finally realized why that was: I wasn’t welcome at the house. I’d never been welcome there. I stood awkwardly, waiting for him to direct the way. He gestured toward the sitting room. Closest to the front door. He wanted this over as fast as possible.

  In, then out.

  I sat down on the cold leather sofa. Flashbacks of being yelled at for entering this room, back then Dad’s office, flooded through me. Me hiding upstairs with Alex huddled in my arms as we tried to block out Mum’s screaming as dad beat the shit out of her for ‘not controlling her sons’.

  “Drink?” my father asked, holding a bottle of scotch. I nodded. He handed it to me wordlessly and sat down opposite me. “What can I do for you?” His voice was formal, as though he were talking to a business college, not his son.

  I toyed with the glass in my hands, trying to string together the words I wanted to say in my head. Instead, they sat there in a jumbled mess. Taking a deep breath, I began to speak.

  “I want to know why,” I said simply. The words could have meant anything, but my father knew exactly what I was talking about. Why had he never loved us? Why had we been nothing but a burden to him since the day we were born? And finally, why had he driven our mother away?

  Dad stood up and walked over to the window. “Why,” he repeated, glancing out over the gardens. “I do love you both. I don’t expect either of you to believe that, but it’s the truth.” He turned to face me, his eyes cold. “I wasn’t a good husband to your mother, and I know you know that. I never knew how to be a father before she left, but after, things got harder. It just became easier to lock myself away with my work.” He took a sip of his drink, studying the contents of his glass. “You boys blamed me for your mother leaving, and rightly so, but all I saw when you looked at me was hate.”

  “I was nine. I was a fucking child and you beat my mother until she couldn’t take it anymore. You broke her so badly that not only did she hate you, she hated us because we were part of you,” I yelled. I threw the glass down on the table, the amber liquid spilling over onto the wood. I walked toward the door. I’d heard all I needed to.

  “Jack.” />
  I turned around. “No. Just don’t. You said you have no sons, well as far as I’m concerned, I have no father.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The fresh air hit me as I climbed out of the car. My heart was pounding. If confronting my father was hard, then the next thing on my list would be near impossible: saying goodbye to Belle. It was so final. There was no going back after that, only forward. I had so much to say to the girl who changed my life. So many regrets. So many things that I wished I’d done differently.

  I wished I had told her how much I loved her. I wished I’d embraced those feelings instead of fighting them. I wished I hadn’t pushed her away. Most of all, I wished she was still there with me.

  Her grave sat high on the hill of the cemetery, overlooking a small lake. It was a pretty spot, one I knew she would’ve loved. I sat down next to her, my guitar by my side. I had made her a promise that when I finished her song, she would be the first to hear it—and that was a promise I planned to keep.

  “Hey baby,” I said softly. I was crying already. The tears had started before I’d even left the car. I’d never walked into a cemetery before, so I had no idea how to feel. The peacefulness this place held surprised me. “I’m sorry I let you down, Belle. I’m sorry I didn’t show you how much I loved you. I promised to play you your song, so here goes…I hope you like it. I’ve named it ‘Angel’s Song.’” I picked up my guitar and began to sing.

  Walking round in circles, never reaching the end.

  Time moving by me as I try to pretend.

  Out of the shadows you stepped into my heart.

  Your love filled the cracks that were breaking me apart.

  Everything that is beautiful is caught up in you,

  I’m so in to you baby, that this is what I wanna do,

  These feelings make me nervous, it’s something so new,

  But I’m into you darlin’ and I’m gonna see this through

  Everything that is beautiful is caught up in you,

  I was drawn to your eyes, so confident and sure,