by A. S. Kelly
The pain in my chest is growing bigger every minute, lodging my breath in my throat. It stops me from thinking of her hair, her hands all over me, her mouth. The heat of her body, driving me crazy.
There won’t be any more TV dinners eaten out of Tupperware boxes. No more films on the sofa, bickering over the most useless shit. No more uncontrollable passion, waking up next to her in unexpected bliss. No more of her laughter, which stops all my tears in their tracks, No more hearts beating so loud they could shatter out chests.
No more her. No more me.
No more us.
“Ryan…Ryan!”
Someone calls my name, and I shake my head, trying to bring myself back to reality. I lift my gaze and find Evan standing next to me, in my parents’ house.
“What…?”
“Outside, now!” he threatens, stabbing his finger towards the back door.
“Kid, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to take on someone so much bigger than you,” Nick interjects, but I stop him.
I nod at him to head outside, and I follow, striding through the awkward silence that settles over the dining room.
It’s raining outside, but Evan doesn’t care. He stands there, in the rain, glaring at me like a man who’s ready to fight to the death to protect his woman.
And that woman is his mother.
“You’re a bastard, Ryan!”
I nod.
“She didn’t…she didn’t deserve that.”
I nod again.
“She deserves more than you.”
He’s right. He’s always been right.
The door opens behind us. All the O’Connors are outside, trying to break up the thousandth family fight.
“Evan, son…” Dad tries to intervene, but Evan won’t let anyone get between us.
“Ryan’s a dick!” he yells.
“That’s nothing new,” Nick comments, inappropriate as always.
“He just wanted to fuck my mum!”
“Hey, keep your voice down,” Ian cuts in.
“But that’s what he did. He pushed his way into our house, made her think that he’d stay, then pissed off at the first opportunity. Without a fucking word.”
“I explained to your mum that…”
“Well you didn’t explain it to me!” he says, close to tears. “I thought you were my mate, that we could trust each other. But you treated me like a little kid.”
I see his gaze give way, his stance starting to crumble. I can see that his emotions have been trampled by what I’ve done. He collapses before my eyes; not like a little boy, but like a man who’s been hurt. By me.
I didn’t just hurt her. I hurt them both, and I’m only realising this now.
Coming into their lives like that made him think that I’d stay, that we could’ve built something together. The tomorrow that Christine wanted. The forever that she deserves.
“The only kid here is you, Ryan O’Connor,” he concludes.
And I know that he’s right.
He turns on his heels and runs off down the alley, probably to cry in a corner somewhere: just like I used to, when I didn’t want my brothers to take the piss. When I didn’t want to show anyone my weakness.
But his isn’t weakness. It isn’t a sign of immaturity.
Evan has the strength to fight for what he believes in, for who he loves. He isn’t scared to show the world how he feels. He isn’t trying to hide who he is – he doesn’t need to.
Because Evan really is a man.
I chase behind him and stop him before he makes it out onto the road.
“Leave me alone!” he screams, before shaking off my grip. “Go to hell – you and all your bullshit! We don’t need you. We don’t need anyone!” he shouts at me.
And I grab him by the shoulders and pull him into a hug. He tries to push me away, but my grip is tighter: not because he needs it, but because I do.
I’m the one who’s lost her, lost them. I don’t know where to go. I’m the one who’s lost that ‘us’ that I decided wasn’t worth it.
His tears mix with the rain, with my own. They mix with my stupidity, my selfishness. I let him sob until he calms down, crumbling into my arms.
“You’re right about everything. You guys don’t know what I’m like – I’m no good to anyone.”
He lifts his head slowly.
“I’m the one who needs you, don’t you get it? And it terrifies me.”
He pulls away from me, wiping his eyes.
“I need both of you, because you make me a better person. You make me…a man.”
“So why did you leave?”
“Because he’s an arsehole,” Ian interrupts.
“Because he never does anything right,” Nick jumps in.
“Because he doesn’t know what else to do,” Riley adds.
“Because he’s a scared little boy,” my mother chimes in.
“Because Ryan’s only just understood,” my dad comes to my rescue. “Just now, thanks to you, he’s just understood what it means to be a man.”
“So? What are you going to do?” Evan asks, sipping at the cup of tea my mother made for him. “She won’t forgive you, mate. Just so you know.”
“I didn’t think she would.”
“You have to do something big, something that will make her weak at the knees, you know? Something that will shock her, show her that you’re not a useless arsehole.”
“Wow, thanks.”
“Something that seriously fucks her.”
“And not in the way that you’re thinking,” my father adds.
My whole family are so at ease with my life and my bullshit. I’m twenty-eight years old and I have to run to a teenage boy for help with women.
“What should I do then? Turn up at your house? Bring her flowers, maybe?”
“Don’t be stupid. Flowers? Are you kidding? She’d shove them down your throat.”
That’s how I imagine it’ll go.
“It needs to be something…”
“Something that makes her realise that you’re serious,” Riley says. “Something that comes from the heart, Ryan.”
“Does he even have one?” Nick butts in, as my mother slaps him forcefully around the head.
Fuck. For once, everyone’s on my side.
“Think, O’Connor, think!” Evan presses me.
Think, think…Think.
Maybe something…a few things…
“There we go, he got there eventually,” Nick says.
I take a deep breath, lift my head and announce determinedly: “I’ll need a hand.”
Ian and Nick glance at each other in agreement – but this time, they’re not hiding anything from me. They’re not trying to protect me, to keep me out.
For the first time in my life, I don’t feel like I’m on the outside looking in. I feel like I’m part of them, of the whole family. Of everything.
Ian stands up and solemnly says: “You didn’t even have to ask.”
79
Chris
I press play on the DVD, waiting for Evan to sit down next to me. I chose the film tonight: Collateral Beauty. I need to feast my eyes on Will Smith for an hour or so, just to get through another night without him.
“You’re missing it!”
“I’m coming, I’ll just be a minute.”
“Can you stop just standing there at the window? It’s making me nervous.”
Evan pulls the curtains closed and looks at his watch again.
“What is it? Are you waiting for someone?”
“Who, me?”
I look at him, one eyebrow raised.
“Are you hiding something from me?”
“I’m not…”
The doorbell saves him.
“Go on, then, open it, seeing as you’re already up.”
“Why don’t you open it?”
“Jesus, what’s wrong with you today?” I get up from the sofa and go to open the front door: when I do, I slam it shut again immediately
in his stupid face.
“Christine!”
“Fuck off, O’Connor!”
“Afterwards, if you want, I’ll fuck off. But please, just open this door now and let me explain.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Do I have to break the door down?”
“Everyone stop,” Evan says, approaching me. “We really don’t need a broken front door right now,” he concludes, opening it and letting him in.
“You little…”
“At least someone in this house has a brain,” Ryan says, stepping inside with his brothers in tow.
“What is this? Some kind of awful special delivery?”
“More or less,” Nick says, his arms laden with tins of paint.
Ian’s carrying two duffel bags, and they’re both wearing white jumpsuits.
Evan bursts out laughing, but Nick shuts him up straight away,
“There’s one for you, too, kid!”
“Fuck.”
“Go on, go do your job,” Ryan says, pointing upstairs.
“And miss this? Never,” Nick says, slumping down onto my sofa.
“Nick,” Ian warns.
“You’re such a…”
“Upstairs, now!” Ryan orders them.
“Don’t get used to this,” Ian threatens, before climbing the stairs, followed by his brother, then by Evan.
“Do you want to explain what’s going on?” I yell.
“Only if you calm down first.”
“What do you want, Ryan? And what the hell are they doing here? And why the fuck does Evan know what’s going on?” I’m hysterical by this point.
“One thing at a time, okay? Don’t wind me up.”
“You’re getting wound up?”
“Of course I am! You’re already screaming at me and I haven’t even started talking yet!” he yells impatiently.
“I’m only getting worked up because you still haven’t told me what the fuck has happened!”
“You, Christine. That’s what’s fucking happened.”
He steps towards me.
“You know those moments where it seems like the whole world is frozen, waiting for something amazing and unexpected to happen? Well, in one of those moments, something did happen. To me. You happened.”
“Fuck…” Nick’s voice floats down from upstairs.
“Would you mind pissing off?”
“Yep,” he says, disappearing again.
“I don’t get it…”
“Right now, my brothers are up there painting your bedroom walls.”
“What?”
“You think I can sleep in a pink bedroom?”
“It’s more lilac than…”
“Do you think I care about that?”
I shake my head.
“Here,” he says, opening one of the duffel bags. “A jersey, a hoodie, a tracksuit…and it all has my number on it. Because you can’t just go around wearing anyone’s number. So, here you go. Number three. The perfect number.”
“Because you’re perfect?”
“No…because you are.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.”
I smile, even though there should be steams of anger flying out of my ears.
“I have a kit in here for Evan, too; but there’s no number on it. That way, he can write on his own.”
“What…?”
“You think I can let that kid stroll around all day with nothing better to do? Don’t even think about it.”
Tears are almost choking me.
“It’s okay, he’s agreed.”
“How did I guess.”
“And he’s also agreed to me living here,” he says, pulling a set of keys from his pocket. “You see? He gave them to me.”
I nod, incredulous.
“Oh and…season tickets, for both of you, for the Championship Final, and for whole of next season,” he says, waving them in my face. “Because this is going to last, Christine. Tomorrow, next year…forever.”
“But you told me you didn’t want any of that. That you wanted them once, but you’ve realised that you don’t want them anymore. That we have too much baggage, Ryan, and you don’t even want a family…”
“You’re right. I don’t want those things anymore, because I’m not that person anymore and you…fuck, you’re different. You’re you, and I want something different, something new. And I want it with you.”
“N-new?” I babble, confused.
“I’m ready. I’ve never been so ready in my life, but I’m ready now, for us. I need you to be ready, too. Ready to risk everything: and I’m warning you, it’s a huge risk.”
I nod, shocked.
“I need you to really believe in us, without holding back. I need you to believe in this…in me.”
I take a deep breath, as Ryan O’Connor comes out: all his insecurities, his fears, but also his kindness and his heart.
“So I’m asking you now, Christine: can you take a chance on me?”
80
Ryan
“It depends,” she says, biting her lip to keep her emotions at bay. “What am I betting on?”
I smile and shake my head, half terrified and half fuelled by adrenaline, willing to take this leap of faith with her.
“Well, I can offer you relaxing TV dinners on the sofa. Chaos – mine and yours. I want your feet resting up on my legs. Laughter, lots of it. I want to laugh at you, laugh at myself, laugh at everything. I want to laugh Christine, and be happy – and you make me happier than I ever thought was fucking possible. I want nights of passion – under the sheets and on top of them – on this sofa, on that counter, on the stairs, in the shower…and I want to wait for you here, when you come home from work in the evening, shattered. I want to wrap my arms around you and help you relax. I want to see your tears when you’re crying over some stupid film, that I’m only watching to make you happy – but you know that, really, I’m enjoying it too.”
She bursts out laughing between her tears.
“And…” my voice starts to shake. “I want to take Evan to school every morning. I want to train him in the back garden. I want to wait for him at home in the evening, when he comes home past his curfew and pisses you off. I want to have Sunday lunch at my parents’, all together, with you sitting opposite me. And I want…”
“Ryan…”
“You, Christine. I want you, and everything you have. And I want to give myself to you, to give you everything I have.”
I try to stifle a sob, and try to quieten my heart, which is telling me to run to her and take her in my arms.
“And we’ll fight all the time. I already know that. But I want those fights, with screaming and slamming doors. And I know that we’ll probably hurt each other, but it doesn’t matter. I’ll take it all, Christine, if you’re willing to give it to me. I won’t leave, I won’t run away. But please, don’t kick me out, even when I really piss you off – because we both know that I will.”
She shakes her head, but keeps smiling.
“We’ll hurt each other, but we’ll do it together, Christine. Because I can’t do it without you.”
She steps closer to me, and I wrap my arms around her waist, feeling her weaken at my touch.
“I tried to hurt you with all my might. But trying to hate you destroyed me more than trying not to love you.”
“Oh…”
“You get it, right?”
She nods.
“Wow,” I sigh, relieved. “I didn’t think I’d explained myself very well.”
“You explained it very well,” she says, linking her arms around my neck. “Well. I’d say, by this point, you can call me Chris if you’d like.”
“Fuck that,” I say, making her narrow her eyes. “I don’t want to call you Chris. I’m not your friend, not your family…I’m your man. And I want to be the only person who calls you Christine. And, you know, it’s also sexy. It makes me think of…”
“Shut up, you’ll ruin it.”
“I know I will. Lots of times. I’ll even try to ruin everything.”
“No you won’t, O’Connor.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I’m here now, and I’m not going to let you.”
She jumps up into my arms, wrapping her legs around my waist.
“The others are upstairs,” I remind her.
“Not for long. Because you’re not going anywhere now.”
“Where the fuck else would I go?” I say, looking into her eyes and feeling immediately at home. “You know that I’m in love with you, right?” I tell her, finally giving myself in to her completely.
“Oh, I know you are,” she says, sealing my words with her lips.
Her taste is in my mouth, and she’s in my arms again: everything seems to make sense, in a ridiculous kind of way. And I know that I was right.
She pulls away from me and speaks into my lips.
“You really did it.”
“What?”
“You made me fall in love with you.”
“Seriously?” I ask, incredulous. I have no idea how this woman could love someone like me.
“And I’d take a chance on you any day, Ryan O’Connor.”
Then Christine saves me with her breaths, with her kindness. With her love.
I know that this time I’m in the right place. I’m going in the right direction, perfectly on time, heading to the only place I want to be.
81
Ryan
“What do you feel like watching?” Evan asks me, nodding towards the TV.
“A horror,” Christine says. “A cult.”
“Please, not Halloween!” I say right away.
“I was thinking maybe a Nightmare marathon?”
“Are you taking the piss?”
“A bit.”
And that’s why I love her so much.
So here I am. A quiet evening in with my family, slouched on the sofa in front of the TV, pizza boxes spread out on the table. I’m sitting in the middle, with Christine’s head on my shoulder, and Evan on the other side. Often, he prefers staying home with us than going out with his friends.
