by Matt Shaw
“I do love you,” her voice, from the front of the car, pulled me back to the present.
I didn’t answer her.
I just closed my eyes tighter and pretended I didn’t hear.
I don’t want to hear her.
We’re over.
I know that now.
Picking her up tonight was a mistake. I shouldn’t have gone to her. I shouldn’t have. Even if she does love me, like she says she does, I couldn’t trust her again. I couldn’t. I wish I could. More than anything, I wish I could.
“Brandon?”
“What?”
“I said I do love you.”
I desperately want to say I love her back. I’m desperate to let her crawl onto the back seat with me, cuddle in close. I can’t. To both. It’ll be weak of me to act upon either of those wants. If she knows I love her...If she knows I want to cuddle her...She’ll never learn she’s in the wrong. She’ll always do it. As soon as my back is turned.
I heard her fidget on her seat. I’m not sure if she’s uncomfortable for being in the seat for so long or uncomfortable because I failed to respond to her. Or she’s uncomfortable because my lack of response speaks volumes as to how I really feel at the moment.
“Well,” she said, “...Goodnight then.”
“Goodnight.”
Obviously I didn’t fall asleep. Judging by the sounds of her breathing, from the front of the car, neither did she. We both just laid there, in the darkness, with the sounds of the wind rustling the trees outside. Neither of us wanting to talk - her because she was, no doubt, fed up with being ignored and me because I didn’t want to let slip how much I still loved her.
Why couldn’t we have both died in the collision?
Would have been so much easier.
I looked at my watch and pressed the button on its side illuminating the digital screen. One of the perks of having a cheap watch, it seems the more you pay for a watch the less functions it has. Just gone three thirty. At least the sun will be up soon. As soon as the sun comes up traffic will start to pass by us. Especially giving that this is one of the more popular country routes into Winchester where we lived. I doubt I’ll sleep but, even so, I reached into my pocket and pulled my mobile phone out once more...it won’t hurt to set the alarm.
Six-thirty.
That’s when this road tends to see life. Even if a car comes before my alarm goes off - I doubt very much that they’ll simply drive past without checking on us.
I slid my phone back into my pocket after ensuring the volume was on ‘loud’.
III
“Brandon?”
I didn’t answer. Hopefully she’ll think I’m asleep and drift off herself. Even if she doesn’t - it might be enough for her to leave me alone.
“Brandon?” she said, a little louder.
Looks like ignoring her isn’t an option.
“What?”
“I can’t sleep.”
“Just close your eyes.”
I heard her shift in her seat and can sense her looking at me. I rolled around to face her.
“I can’t sleep,” she repeated.
“Well what do you want me to do about it?”
“Talk to me?”
“Talk to you?”
“Please.”
I sat up, on the seat, and looked her direct in her teary blue eyes.
“What was his name?”
“What?”
“What? Seems like a strange name. He not from around here I take it?” I asked sarcastically.
Hollie ignored my sarcasm, “His name is Richard.”
“Richard?”
“Yes.”
“Dick.”
“He didn’t like Dick,” said Hollie as she completely missed my slur. I’ll have to make it more obvious for her lacking intelligence to recognise.
“I bet he did. Just waiting for the right time to tell people.”
“Why are you doing this?” she asked.
“Doing what? Talking? Because you asked me to. Remember? You said you couldn’t sleep. You asked me to talk. I’m talking.”
“Why are you being cruel? Why can’t you be nice?”
“You really need to ask that?”
For months I thought everything was okay in our relationship. Sure, we had our issues and occasional arguments but...the way I saw it, this was normal. What couple doesn’t have their issues? Been so busy at work recently, I thought we’d make up for lost time when things calmed down a little. But then, last week, I found out she was seeing someone else. Richard - apparently. Dick. And here she is asking why I’m being cruel. She could have talked to me. Tried to fix our problems before running off with someone else but she couldn’t help herself. Just jumped into bed with the first person who paid her attention.
I changed the subject, “You never did tell me how you met.”
Silence once more.
“I would have thought I deserved to know that much,” I pressed.
“You don’t really want to know.”
“Of course I do. I’m interested. If we’re to split up at least we could stay as friends. Isn’t that how it normally works? I’d love nothing more than to be the one you call, after a bad date, to moan about men of today. Hear your new relationship problems when you find someone else and when you bore of them too...”
“Stop it!”
She started to cry. Good. She deserves to cry. I’ve done my crying. Why shouldn’t she have a turn too? I remember a time when her tears would cut through me like knife through butter and I’d have done anything - bent over backwards - to put an end to them. Now...Now I enjoy them.
“Stop what? I’m not doing anything,” I continued. I purposefully kept from shouting. I knew the words would be enough without the added volume. Show her I don’t care that we’re over. Show her that, already, I’m over us. “That’s what friends do, isn’t it, listen to each other’s woes and happiness? I can’t wait to share the news of my new girlfriend with you. Our first few dates, how happy we are together...maybe you’ll be on hand to help her move in with me and, I don’t know, maybe you can be the friend we call when we need a babysitter?”
“What?”
“Don’t worry, I’m not talking babies right away. That would be irresponsible but, you know, further down the line - say, a couple of years. Yeah, I don’t see why babies wouldn’t be on the card. Not just one though. Don’t want to raise an only child. Would like them to have a brother or sister. Someone they can play with...”
I could see the pain my words were causing written all over her face. Babies being a particularly sore subject ever since she discovered she couldn’t have any of her own - despite always wanting them. For a split second I feel a pang of guilt shoot through my entire body...It’s short-lived when I remind myself why I’m doing this and why I’m saying the things I’m saying - even if I don’t believe them. I can’t see myself being with anyone else. I can’t. I only want her. She is all I’ve ever wanted. The only thing. When I realised I couldn’t have her...that I’m not enough for her...she deserves the shit that’s coming from my mouth.
“Please, stop!” she begged.
I ignored her and pushed on, “I’m not sure what I’d call my daughter. I’ve never been very good with names but, if I have a lad, I’m definitely calling him Jack. Definitely. A strong name...”
The name of her dead father and the name she wanted for her own child - before she found out she’d never give birth to him.
“STOP IT!” she screamed.
The scream was enough to awaken my empathy and I fell silent. Her tears being the only audible noise in our little world. I won’t apologise. She doesn’t deserve it.
IV
I’m not sure how long we’ve been sitting in silence now. Could be five minutes, could be an hour. She had stopped crying and we were both in deep thought - reflecting on the recent events - neither of us knowing what to say without causing another argument or more tears.
A bit more ti
me passed when Hollie turned, in the front seat, to look at me. No doubt she was checking whether I was awake or not. I caught her eye and she gave a faint smile - the kind of smile where the lips only just move. The kind of smile which says ‘sorry’ and ‘are you okay’. I tried not to return the smile but couldn’t help myself - opening the door for more conversation.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“Sorry you were caught?”
“Please don’t.”
I didn’t say anything. Does she not realise the pain I’m in? It’s hard to say anything civil to her now despite what she says to me. Even if it were easy to be civil - I don’t want to be. Why should I let her have my forgiveness so easily? It’s not as though it was a one-off drunken kiss in a club, not that that scenario would have been much better...It was a full blown affair which went on for...How long?
“How long?” I asked.
“What?”
“How long has it been going on for?”
“I’m not sure.”
“You must know. You meet him last week? The week before?”
“It was August time.”
“August?”
She nodded and breathed in deeply - as though trying to steady her nerves in preparation for another hard conversation. I’m feeling tired having been drained by my emotions.
“How did it start?” I asked unsure as to whether I really wanted the answer.
“Do we have to talk about this?”
I nodded, “Yes. I think I deserve to know everything. Seems fair.”
When we first got together it was Hollie who made the first move on me. In our early thirties now we’d been together since college. I was a shy lad who started classes halfway through the term when my family moved down this way. I didn’t know anyone and wasn’t the best at meeting new people so I was pretty grateful when she took me in, under her wing, and introduced me to her friends. Nothing happened for a while as she was seeing someone but - a few months down the line...One thing led to another and we became an item. At the start of our relationship we had a few little bust-ups but nothing which was so serious we couldn’t work on it. We’d break-up and get back together a few hours later. After the initial speed bumps...we’d been together ever since but the fact she left someone for me - I should have known she had the potential to do the same to me.
“I didn’t mean it to happen,” she said eventually. “He was our new supplier at work. We spoke to each other every day for months before anything happened. The conversations were always a little flirty but I just put that down to the fact he wanted me to buy from him. You know what sales people are like. They have a knack of saying what you want to hear...”
I didn’t say anything. The mere thought of her with another man...Touching...Kissing...Fucking...I wanted to throw up.
She saw the expression on my face, “I’ll stop.”
“No, don’t.”
I needed to hear it. I thought it might help me make sense of what happened and, more importantly, help me to move on from her.
“One day in August he came down to the office. The first day we actually saw each other in person. He said he was visiting all of his favourite customers with little gift bags...”
“Gift bags?”
“It was nothing - just some promo junk to do with their company. Pens, shirts, mouse-mats...It was nothing. He turned up just as I was due to go on my lunch break. He ended up coming with me and letting his company pay for the pair of us. A perk, he called it.”
“And you kissed?”
She shook her head and I felt a little relief. Despite how it ended up at least she didn’t just jump straight into bed with him.
“He walked me back to the office, we shook hands, I gave him an order and he left. The next day, he phoned into the office and asked if I wanted to go out for a meal which the company wouldn’t be paying for.”
“And you said yes.”
My heart was beating so hard in my chest that it hurt. Each of her words felt as though it were a knife piercing it again and again.
“I’m sorry.”
Sorry didn’t heal the pain or change what had happened no matter how much I wished it could. Nothing changed. I climbed from the car and ran to the other side of the road. I want to throw up. Perhaps, if I can, it will make the badness I’m feeling go away. Perhaps it will help. She didn’t come after me, she just stayed in the car - watching. I take it as another example of how she no longer cares for me. I take it as another sign we’re definitely over even though the words haven’t been spoken by either of us. I guess it’s just a matter of time. Even if she doesn’t leave me - I can’t stay with her. Every time I close my eyes I see her on top of him - fucking him hard. I can hear her moans, and his grunts, in my head even though they’ve long since finished. I can’t stay with her. Definitely not.
I looked up and down the road. Disappointingly there’s still no sign of any cars coming this way. I think I’ve heard enough from Hollie. I just want to go home now and sleep...Home? I didn’t even think of that. It’s supposed to be our home. Did she...? I stormed back towards the car and climbed into the front next to her.
“Did you fuck him in our bed?” I asked. I tried my best to contain the anger but failed miserably. The thought of her pleasuring him in our bed whilst I was at work made my blood boil.
“No,” she said. No hesitation.
“I don’t believe you.”
“I promise.”
“I don’t believe you.”
She didn’t promise me again. She didn’t say anything. There was no point and she knew it. There was nothing she could say to make me believe it didn’t happen. I couldn’t believe anything she said. After all, once upon a time she lied that she loved me.
V
Despite getting together when we were young we were sensible and did everything by the book. We didn’t move in together until we were in our early twenties, about three years after meeting. We wanted to but thought it was a better idea to stay living with our parents whilst we both scrimped and saved for a deposit to buy our own property. Renting is nothing but dead money. It was another couple of years after that before we got married - the happiest day of my life. Just over a year later, after my promotion at work, we were trying for a baby and that’s when things started to go wrong. We were arguing a lot over petty little things - most of which I can’t even remember. As a result, I stayed out longer, doing overtime. I figured the overtime would, at some point, earn me enough money to surprise Hollie with an exotic holiday somewhere hot. A chance to piece together our fractured relationship and remember why we got together, all those years ago, in the first place. I guess she wasn’t interested in putting things together though. Her idea of fixing things was going out and sleeping with another man. But then, maybe it was my fault? She just saw me going out of the house doing overtime to get away from the arguing. I never told her my plans. I never told her how I loved her and wanted to take her away somewhere nice to rekindle our passion. I never said it. I just looked cold. Instead of arguing, I should have just kept reassuring her how much I loved her. If I had, she might not have looked elsewhere. If I had, we might not be at the end of our relationship.
“Are you okay?” Hollie asked.
A stupid question. I feel as though my heart has been ripped from my chest and stamped on. I feel like my life is over. I even wish I had died in the crash as it would have been easier.
I didn’t bother answering.
“It was never in our house,” she said, “I know it doesn’t make things any better but...I just want you to know that. I promise you. We always went to his.”
Our house. Our house. What happens there? Is she supposed to move out because she was the one cheating or am I supposed to be the gentleman and let her keep it? I don’t think I can. Don’t think about that now.
“Do you love him?” I asked after a couple more minutes of silence.
She didn’t answer straight away. I should have taken her hesitation
as the answer. She loved him. Otherwise, it would have been easy to say. Her hesitation was simply her way of trying to find the right words to use which would cause me the least amount of pain and anguish. The familiar ‘crushing’ feeling in my heart once more. I wanted to ask if she still loved me but was nervous of the answer. If she said ‘yes’ I’d be desperately wishing I could figure out how to make all this better. If she said ‘no’...Well...No one likes to hear they aren’t loved anymore.
