Chapter Twenty One
Laurel
The monitor beeps. The clock hand ticks slowly round. The dirt mark on the floor doesn’t go away no matter how hard I stare at it. I pull my arms around myself to keep the shivers at bay. I’m not cold. I’m scared. Four years ago I was sat in a room that looked and smelled exactly like this one. Clinical, bare, with the scent of antiseptic and disinfectant. Sterile. No trace of the people who have been here before. No trace of my dad. He’s gone. And now, so might my mum. I’ll be all alone. I pull out my phone and will it to ring. I left James a voicemail last night. I didn’t want to ring him and spoil his night but when mum came downstairs looking pale and struggling to breathe it was obvious she needed to come here. I rang Cassie and she came and spent some time with me. I didn’t want him to come back, just to hear his comforting voice with its soft, gravelly timber. He still hasn’t called me back. It was so hard to let him go on his own last night. I wanted to be there supporting him, by his side showing him belief, praise, and strength. But I feel the weakest I’ve ever felt. And that’s not what he needs. He deserves someone who’s not this snivelling, crying shell but a woman who’s character shines, who will make his life better, happier.
The thoughts hit me like rapid fire bullets, slamming into my body one after the other in quick succession. He deserves more. More than I can give him now. I am now starting to see why Darren left. He wanted a girlfriend who didn’t spend all her time in a hospital. That’s not too much to ask is it? He wanted someone to go to parties with, hang out, laugh at movies, go bowling and go on holiday. Live life. Why didn’t I see it before? He was right to leave. His youth and naivety gave him the courage and determination to do it but James, having been through this with his mum, will go through it all again for me and my mum. I can’t let him do that to himself. I have to set him free or I’ll just end up dragging him down too. I suppress the niggling feeling it should be his choice. It has to be now. My heart is already piecing itself back together with his love. I have to do this before it’s made whole. He has the power to completely shatter it all over again. I’d be devastated if he left me, and where would that leave my mum? She needs me. I’m all she has. She always put me first, now it’s my turn.
“Laurel, your mother is asking for you.” The nurse’s voice snaps me back to the present. I’m in the corridor on the next floor, I didn’t even realise I’d been walking.
“You know, once you’ve seen her, you should really go home and get some rest, sugar. You look tired. She’s in good hands here.” The nurse’s sad smile stays with me as I head down stairs. I turn into the next corridor and the big number ten on the door sends comfort round me even if I don't yet know what I'm going to be walking in on. She’s just had a meeting with a specialist and wanted to be on her own for it so she could process any information herself first without worrying about me. She’s sitting up in bed, on first glance it looks like she’s fine, happy even. But as I get closer I notice the dark circles under eyes, her skin’s still pale and her cheeks are sunken in. She looks gaunt and frail. Worse than I’ve ever seen her. I plaster a small smile over my frown quickly so she doesn’t see.
“Laurel, sit down sweetie.” She nods to the chair next to the bed and I get the drowning feeling I got when I first found out about her cancer. If there was good news she would have told me straight away. She takes my hand and my body shakes involuntarily at the cool touch of her fingers.
“You look tired. You should go home and get some rest.” Another one to comment on how I look. One more time and I’ll end up hitting something.
“I’m fine, mum. Can we cut to the chase please? What did he say?”
She sighs and looks down at her fingers fiddling with the plaster covering the drip on the back of her hand. One of my worst vices is saying things without thinking them through first. She’s the one going through this shit, not me.
“Sorry mum. I just…I need to know what’s happening. I don’t want you to hide anything from me like you did with dad. I want to be here for you.” I feel helpless if I don’t have all the information.
She lifts her eyes to mine and they soften as she reaches out to cup my cheek. “I know. It’s just hard to face the reality sometimes. I don’t want you to have to go through seeing another sick parent.”
“I’m fine. I’m just worried about you. Just tell me enough so I know what’s happening if you can’t tell me everything.” I plead with her silently and as she watches my face, I see the resignation flash in her eyes. She takes in a deep breath before playing with a few strands of my hair that have fallen forward, twisting them round her fingers.
“The doctor said I should be honest with you. Said you’re old enough, a woman now. And if you’re going to be the one caring for me then you need to know how I’m feeling, but you’re still my daughter. I should be the one caring for you. You shouldn’t have to see me like this.” The tears pool in her eyes, but I can see the steely Matthews resolve holding them back. The tension in her body has knotted it tight. Her grip on my hand gets stronger and her other hand fists into the blanket on the bed.
“So, what I had was just a panic attack. But the chemo I’ve been having hasn’t been successful in shrinking the cancer. They’ve now changed the formula and given me a different combination. Basically a stronger cocktail. We just have to keep our fingers crossed this time it works.” There’s a pause whilst she gathers her thoughts. “I promise you now, I will fight to the very last breath for a life with you,” she bites out as she turns her head to look out at the window. “It’s you and me. We’ll be there for each other, positive attitudes are a must now. It’ll make us enjoy our time together so much more while the doctors do all they can. Help us deal with the heavy stuff. I’ll do whatever treatment and lifestyle choices are necessary, but you have to promise me, if you’re having a bad day you tell me. And the doctor has already talked to me about what I may have to go through with the stronger drugs. It isn’t pretty and I’ll have plenty of bad days too. Please don’t think that means that I’m losing the fight or worry about me because of it. There’ll be times I just want to have a crabby day. So just let me. Got it?” Her voice is shaky but I can feel her strength soaking into me. I’ll stay positive for her. It won’t cure her, but it might stop me going completely insane. I nod and squeeze her hand so she knows I understand.
She breathes in deeply and slowly as though that breath is cleansing her of negative thoughts and relaxes down against the pillow.
“I’m getting tired sweetie. I think you should go back to the house. Have a shower. Get some sleep. Deal with your store. Then come back and by that time I’ll be feeling a lot brighter. You need to take care of yourself too. I’ll be fine here.” She smiles and her hand leaves mine to pull the blanket up around her and her eyelids flutter closed. I guess that’s the end of the conversation. I want to laugh, she’s still the same as she’s always been. Last words always go to her.
I don’t let my mind focus on anything in particular driving home. I only see the line of trees blurring past me as I fly down the country roads, twisting and spiralling, leaning into each sharp turn of the wheel, riding over each mound in the tarmac seamlessly. I put the windows down, switch the radio on and turn the bass up high. I get lost in the cool breeze skimming over every cell in my body and the pulse of the beat pounding hard in my head. It works at keeping everything else out until I pull onto my road and see the car parked on the kerb outside my house. The beat of the music is drowned out by the beat of my heart, pushing against my ribcage. Now I wish I’d spent the drive back planning on what I was going to say to him, to keep it from hurting us both more than it already will. I just wasn’t expecting him back until tonight. I contemplate turning around and driving anywhere else I can think of, Cassie’s maybe, but I see his door open and I know he’s seen me. I can’t be a coward anyway, I have to face this head on. Get it over with quickly. Just like ripping off a plaster.
“Hey, you okay? You’re
up early. Good thing actually. I came to take you out to breakfast.” He strides over to my side of the car and flashes the sexy, confident grin that usually makes me go weak at the knees. If I keep looking at him I’m going to give in and I have to remind myself he deserves more than I can give him right now. I busy myself getting my handbag out the car and expect to hear him carry on talking but there’s silence even though I can feel his presence behind me. I lower my bag strap onto my shoulder slowly and turn to see his face taut, worry etched into all his features.
“Wait, where have you been? And where’s Judy?”
“In the hospital. I left you a voicemail.” The words come out harsher than I expected them to. I was the one who told him to go have fun. I can’t blame him for doing exactly that. And he can’t be at my beck and call all the time. I know that, so why do I feel bitter that he never called me back?
“I didn’t get it. My phone broke at some point, I don’t know what happened to it. I only realised when I got back and took it out to ring you.” He looks at me and waits.
“Oh.” It’s all I can manage. It doesn’t really matter why he didn’t ring me back. It doesn’t change the end result. I tighten my grip on my bag and slam the car door shut.
“We need to talk.”
I never thought I’d be having this conversation. I want to do it blindfolded so I don’t have to see his reaction. Whatever it’s going to be, I know it will stay with me for the rest of my life, I have to be prepared for that. He will always be the one that got away. Or the one I pushed away.
I place my bag on the chair in the hallway and look back up, “James, I-”
“-No!” He roars, as his body jolts forward and his hand comes up to slam against the wall behind me. “Don’t do this Laurel.” He sees it in my eyes before I even say it. He’s always been good at reading me.
“Tell me what’s wrong. Don’t shut me out. Let me help.” His hand strokes my cheek and I feel the pain tearing through my chest, it hurts so much I struggle to breathe.
“I just need to be on my own. You have to let me go.” I whisper, my voice not able to manage any other sound.
“Don’t be stupid.” He spits out and slams both hands against the wall before pushing his weight off them and pacing the hallway. He growls and rubs his hand over his neck, then takes in a few purposeful breaths. I’ve never seen him lose his cool like this. His eyes blaze with anger and confusion.
“Why?”
It’s a simple question. But there’s no simple answer. He just needs to know that it’s not him, it’s me. That sounds so lame but it’s true. He’s been perfect. Too perfect. I love him. I’m falling hard. But eventually it will end. And I’ll end up worse off than before. It’s self-preservation. I’m shutting down and shutting him out now before it’s too late.
“James, you deserve to be with someone who’s more emotionally stable. Someone who can have a laugh with you, who will enjoy life with you. I can’t do that. My head’s all over the place. I don’t know how I feel. I’m upset, confused, angry and I need to just focus on me and my mum without thinking about someone else too.”
“But I can be here for you. I’ll help you through it.” He protests but I shake my head, I need him to realise I’m not going to change my mind.
“You think you can, but the reality is, I’ll be a shit girlfriend. What about the next time something important comes up and I can’t make it because there’s a chemo appointment, she’s having a bad day or I’m just too damn tired? That’s not fair on you. I’m guessing you won?”
He looks down, and mumbles, “Yes.”
I want to smile, but my mouth won’t move. I’m so proud, but it just makes the guilt worse.
“See? As your girlfriend I should have been there to support you. You’ll be disappointed and I’ll keep on disappointing you. And eventually you’ll end up resenting me. My mum will always come first. You’ll always be second for as long as she’s fighting this, and I don’t know how long this will be. You deserve someone who can put you first.”
His lips purse together and his eyes pierce through mine in a way I’ve never felt before. It’s rage. Directed at me.
“Is that how you see me? I would never expect you to put me first whilst she’s fighting for her life. How could you think that of me? I know exactly how you feel. I don’t know what else I can do or say. I really don’t. I’ve been in your shoes. I’ve walked the same path you’re walking now. Every fear, every worry, every anxiety you have, I’ve had before too. That alone gives me something he never had.” His eyes look down and focus on the carpet. “I’m nothing like him Laurel.”
I want to go to him. To wrap my arms around him and comfort him, and it takes every ounce of self-control to keep my feet planted firmly on the ground.
“I understand why he left. I never thought I would. But I see it now.” My voice turns soft but determined. He has to understand. “He just wanted a normal girlfriend. No baggage, no drama. I can’t be mad at him for that. I choose that for you too.”
“It’s my choice, babe. I love you. I can’t let you do this.”
He advances slowly towards me.
I don’t know why I thought he was going to let me go without a full on battle. It’s not in his nature; if he wants something, he fights for it. His mouth meets mine before I can push him away. He’s strong, his whole body is pressed against mine and I selfishly kiss him back with more immediacy than I’ve ever had before. His lips move quickly, urgently, and one of his hands grips the back of my neck, tilting my head back so his mouth can devour more of mine. The thrash of his tongue is like a jolt waking me from a dream. This isn’t fair to him, I have to stop. I tear my lips away from his and take a moment to gulp in a few breaths. When I look up, I see the panic and frustration in his eyes. I knew that was goodbye, he didn’t.
I swallow to stop the sob that’s building in my chest, but when I see the clear sheen in his eyes I can’t stop it from breaking free. More follow and they rack my body as he pulls away and straightens himself. His eyes blink rapidly but that doesn’t stop the tear from falling. It breaks my heart a little bit more.
“Two weeks.” He croaks out quietly.
He pauses to clear his throat and drops his voice lower than I’ve heard before; each word hardened, each word as unbreakable as the one before.
“Two weeks to come to your senses or I’m coming back for you.”
Chapter Twenty Two
James
Two fucking weeks is two fucking weeks too long. I slam my hands against the steering wheel before a deep growl ripples from my throat. If my damn phone hadn’t have broken I could have stopped all this. I would have been back here and straight to the hospital as soon as I heard her voice.
I drive to the only place that gives me comfort when I don’t know what else to do.
Gives me the strength to face fears. Gives me clarity when I can’t see straight. She’s there for me even though she’s not.
I slam the brakes and grab the Jack from the backseat. One little detour and I’m prepped to drown myself in alcohol until the pain has been dulled. One swig of the bottle and I’m desperate for more; long gulps that leave me breathless but draw me in with their promise of release.
I’m walking so fast I stumble on the gravel. I weave carelessly in between the grave stones until I spot the one I need, then break out into a run, relief flowing through me as I get closer and closer. I slump forward onto my knees in front of it, the bottle in my right hand, fists of grass in my left. My fingers dig deep into the soil; my chest heaves as I struggle to catch my breath and I blink to try and ease the burning in my eyes.
“I wish you were here.” I whisper. The admission tips me over the edge and I snivel into the bottle until my head tips back all the way to catch the last drop. It falls from my fingers and it hasn’t done what I expected. I wanted to be numb. But I still feel everything.
My head’s hazy so I lie back on the ground slowly looking up at the sky. It spins an
d I chase the clouds with my eyes, round and round and round. I’m dizzy. My arms spread out on either side and I thump my hands against the ground to try and steady myself but it stills feels like the earth is moving away from me so I shut my eyes. I tumble through the darkness, giving in to the emptiness that’s calling to me.
Laurel
I sip the cold sharp liquid, wait for it to hit the back of my throat, then go again. I swallow and get ready for the next one. Every night has been the same. I’m five days in to the two week promise he made and I’ve had five days of focussing on mum, and four nights of downing wine like its water.
“Right, intervention time. I’ve had enough.” Jen watches me, sipping from her glass and placing it back on the table. “You cannot keep doing this to yourself. If not for your sanity, do it for your liver. It’s taking a right pounding this week.”
I roll my eyes and tip the glass right back. My eyes meet hers in a challenge and if it wasn’t for the fact I don’t feel like drinking alone, I’d tell her where to go.
“Laurel,” she cries and I smirk to myself. Ha! I can do whatever I want.
“Real classy, Laurel. Why don’t you just drink it from the bottle while you’re at it? It’ll save you from having to get up too. You could just stay on the sofa and drown your sorrows with minimum effort.” She tuts at me and wrinkles her nose and I start to think that maybe she’s onto something. I get up silently and I see her questioning eyes follow me to the door but I don’t let on where I’m going. I walk through the house, and sway slightly as I reach out to grab the handle on the fridge. I want to be numb. But I still feel everything. So I take out the bottle and do just what she suggested. I wonder what Nurse Jenny will say about this. Feeling smug, I wander back through to the lounge taking long swigs of wine as I go. Before I walk in the door, I hear her talking quietly. She must be on the phone. I stumble backwards and bump into something that rattles with the weight of my body against it, “Shhh,” I say to the plant pot on the hallway table and giggle as I bring the bottle back up to my lips. I slump back against the wall and listen to Jen.
Sweet Reflection (Truth) Page 23
