I Hold Your Heart

by Karen Gregory

  Or from someone else?

  I’m on the sofa. I haven’t moved all day.

  ‘Where’s dinner?’ he says, barely even looking at me.

  Where have you been?

  ‘I thought … we could go out?’ I say eventually.

  He laughs, and there’s no mistaking it now, the tone of it. The way he’s looking down at me as if to say, ‘With you looking like that?’

  It’s true. I haven’t even washed today. I get up and try to cuddle him, but he pushes me off and goes for a shower, but not before I catch the perfume smell again.

  The days when he won’t speak to me are the worst. Sometimes I don’t even know why. I’ll ask and ask, and he’ll carry on with what he’s doing like I’m not there, no matter if I shout, or plead, or cry. It could be over anything: a meal, the state of the house. The state of me. All I want is for him to smile how he used to. Or look at me like I exist.

  I’m crying when he comes back out of the shower. He sighs, heavily. Opens his laptop.

  ‘Do you even love me?’ I say, wondering who he’s emailing. Even a month ago, if I’d asked the same thing, he would’ve been all over me, showing me how much he loves me. Now, he doesn’t answer. ‘I’m taking Shiney for a walk,’ I say.

  He barely looks up from the screen.

  On the beach, I run and run, everything hurting as I do, the wind freezing my face. I’m wearing Aaron’s fleece, but it doesn’t smell like him any more. It smells like me: stale sweat and tears.

  I watch Shiney chasing the waves in the semi-darkness. She’s so happy. Why can’t I be happy like that? I think of the things Aaron says, how I’m ungrateful, how I always want more. Is it true? What’s wrong with me? I think about Mum and Dad, Esi and Cal. How none of them care about me. How maybe I’m not worth caring about. Then I imagine him with his arms around someone else, telling them how beautiful they are, how much he loves them. I can’t stand it.

  Back in the house, I towel Shiney off and mop her paw-prints from the floor. Aaron’s still on his laptop, like he hasn’t even noticed I was out for ages in the dark.

  I try to reach out to him. To bring him back from wherever he’s gone. ‘Hey.’ I make my voice soft. ‘We never finished watching Nashville. You fancy putting one on?’

  ‘Nashville? You know I can’t stand it.’ He goes back to typing while my shocked brain tries to process his words.

  ‘But … we watched it. Before. I thought you liked it?’

  ‘I think you’re confused,’ he says coldly.

  I try to remember back, to us cosy together on the sofa, watching episode after episode because we couldn’t wait to find out what happened next. Didn’t we?

  The hair’s still in my pocket from the other week. And suddenly I have to know.

  ‘Are you sleeping with someone else?’ The question just comes out.

  Aaron finally looks up. ‘What?’

  ‘You heard me. Are you?’ My voice sounds all wrong, too harsh, too accusing. Aaron slowly closes the laptop lid.

  ‘Well, it sounds like you’ve already made your mind up. That’s a bit rich, coming from you,’ he says.

  I feel myself falter as Aaron warms up. ‘What about all the guys you were flirting with? Cal? Higgins? That bloke up the hall? I saw you laughing with him the other day when you were supposedly taking the dog out for a walk. You sure you don’t have anything you want to tell me? You expect me to believe you stay in every day while I’m working? Never sneak out? Knock on his door?’

  ‘That’s crazy.’ My voice is faint because my head’s spinning. Aaron comes up so he’s right next to me.

  ‘I’m crazy? Have you heard yourself? How insane you sound? Have you looked at yourself? What are you hiding, Gemma? What is it you really want to say?’ The way he uses my full name like that hurts even more than what he’s saying. I can feel tears coming. I try to hold them back, but it’s no good.

  ‘I don’t even know that guy. He just stopped to ask me a question.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘I don’t even remember! It wasn’t anything.’

  ‘Seemed pretty cosy for an “I don’t even remember”,’ Aaron says, mimicking my voice.

  And on it goes. Me trying desperately to defend myself, Aaron talking on, the night stretching out as he paces and I cry. In the end, I’m so exhausted I start to agree with him, to say I’m sorry, anything to make it stop.

  When he finally goes to sleep, on the sofa, because he’s too hurt to sleep in the same bed as me, I take a long shower. There has to be a way to make this all better. I think about the things I’ve given up, for him. Wonder if there’s anyone I can talk to, apart from Shiney, and remember there isn’t. The only person I have is Aaron. There has to be a way to make this better, make him love me again. There has to be.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Aaron

  I type into the search engine:

  Q: What to do when your girlfriend’s let herself go.

  A: Have you tried talking to her? Perhaps she’s depressed. Get her to see a doctor.

  I don’t read any further. What’s she got to be depressed about anyway? That’s just an excuse. She’s got everything she needs, everything I’ve given her. All she has to do is ask and she gets stuff. I think about the shopping trips, the guitar she doesn’t even bother to play. She doesn’t have to work or go to college or anything. Then she accuses me of cheating, when she’s the one who flirts like crazy with anything with a dick. She can’t be bothered to make the effort for me, that’s her problem. And so what if me and Selina have had a couple of kisses? Everyone knows that doesn’t count, not for a guy. Especially not when his girlfriend’s sitting there, lazing about the house without even bothering to do her make-up. She doesn’t bother to learn how to cook me nice food, she barely bothers to shower, and sex? What a joke.

  Men and women are different. Men are visual. She’s trying to put me off by not making any effort any more. Like she wants me to go off with someone else. That’s the real cheating because it’s heart cheating, not a kiss or two, or a quick feel-up.

  I miss her. I miss her smiles and the way she looked at me like I was her world, not like I’m some huge disappointment. If I want someone to look at me like that, I’ve got my mum. I can’t believe she’s throwing away everything we have, after all I’ve done for her. I’ve even given up Selina for her. Me and Selina haven’t even slept together, though Selina has made it more than clear that’s on the cards. And I said no because I’m faithful. Unlike some.

  I look again at the word ‘depressed’. Could that be it? Or is it just being a girl that does it?

  Slowly the rage falls away. It’s the middle of the night, and I want my bed. I go into my room and there she is, asleep like nothing’s wrong at all. I can’t work out if I want to kiss her or throttle her. She stirs as I lean over. Her hair smells good from her shower. Before she’s even fully awake I’m there on top of her and she lets me in, moves the way I like, and if I’m thinking about Selina some of the time, that’s my own business, no one else’s.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Gem

  I wake up the next morning with Aaron’s arms around me. The relief is so acute it feels like my whole body is melting into the covers. I wriggle in closer to him, breathe in his smell.

  The next day is even better. I know he’s sorry because he brings me a huge bunch of flowers, and even breakfast in bed. Then we spend hours together, just like before, ordering new clothes and make-up with his credit card.

  Maybe this is the start of a whole new phase. I make sure I’m up early every day, do everything I can to look as nice as possible. When he’s working, I find exercise videos on YouTube on his new smart TV and spend hours doing them, or watching cookery programmes so I can cook him different things.

  It seems to work, except maybe there’s a part of me still watching, on high alert, even if I don’t ask him any questions about where he’s been. Or who with. I can’t stop smelling his clothes
before I wash them though, looking for hairs or traces of make-up, especially when he’s been out late. And I still can’t sleep. I keep trying to sort all the Aarons I know out from each other. The hurt, vulnerable Aaron, and the angry, shouting one. The loving Aaron and the Aaron he is sometimes in bed, like it’s not even me there with him. I don’t know how to talk to him about it. I remember the time he quoted Bowie, the thing about being the person people believed him to be.

  Who do I believe Aaron is? I try to keep that question for night, when only I’m awake.

  My face breaks out in even more acne, although at least I’ve got the right concealer to cover it all up. I layer it on each morning, top it up before he comes home. Slowly I start to feel like the bad times have passed, that whatever was going on with Aaron, he’s back to his old self again.

  And then, one day, the guy up the hall stops me as I’m coming in with Shiney.

  ‘Hey,’ he says. ‘Haven’t seen you about for a while.’

  ‘Hi.’ It’s the briefest thing, and my eyes don’t even meet his, but he carries on anyway.

  ‘So … how long have you been living here? Is this your dog? You’re with that tall dude, aren’t you?’

  ‘Um, yeah. Sorry, I need to …’

  ‘Sure. I’ve got some post for your guy, though, picked it up by accident the other day.’

  ‘Oh. Um, can you just slide it under the door?’ I say. I look up the hallway.

  Aaron’s home. Shiney knows it too, because she gives a little whine, wanting to get back for her food.

  ‘I’ll get it now.’ The guy gestures for me to follow him. He’s only two doors down. I stay where I am. Then he pokes his head out of his door.

  ‘Here we go.’

  I glance at our door, mine and Aaron’s. I can’t ask this guy to bring me the letters, that’d be too rude. But I can’t go in there and get them, because what if Aaron comes out and sees?

  That’s when I realise I don’t know how to make a decision on my own any more.

  ‘Oh, hey …’ The guy’s come back down the hallway. ‘You crying?’

  I shake my head, even though I am.

  The guy puts the letter in my hand, but at the same time places the other hand lightly on my arm, and I can’t lie, it’s nice to feel a soft touch, to hear the concern in his voice. He looks into my eyes. ‘You OK?’ he says.

  ‘I—’

  The door opens.

  Aaron.

  I jump back from the guy, the letters dropping to the floor. Then I’m scrabbling to pick them up, hearing my voice high and nervous. ‘He was just giving me these for you.’

  ‘Sure, thanks. Dude,’ Aaron says. He smiles.

  ‘Any time.’ The guy goes back into his flat.

  Shiney dives for our door.

  I let her go, look up into Aaron’s face, but I can’t read it. I go inside, even though something in me is shivering and shivering. I feed Shiney, get the cloth for her paw-prints. All the time, Aaron stands over me, watching. As I straighten, he takes the cloth from me, and that’s when I start to feel afraid.

  These past few weeks, I’ve been desperate sometimes, but I’ve never felt scared the way I do now. I know what’s coming. I know it even as I sit down while Aaron begins to pace. I stare at his feet going back and forth, waiting for it to start. I don’t even know if I have the words any more to try to explain.

  ‘He was just giving me some letters,’ I whisper.

  And Aaron roars. So loud I let out a little scream. His face up close to mine, spewing out insults. ‘You fucking bitch. You’ve been dressing yourself up for him, not me, haven’t you?’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ I keep whispering it, my back pressed against the sofa as he rages on. Shiney whines, and he aims a kick towards her, not to hit her, but to send her running. It’s as though his foot is kicking me.

  ‘I knew it. I fucking knew it. You’ve been laughing at me all this time, haven’t you?’ Aaron shouts.

  ‘No,’ I whisper again, but he can’t even hear it, can’t see me.

  I can’t reach him.

  It’s so much worse than before. The shouting lasts for an eternity. He jabs my chest with his finger, hard enough to hurt. When I get up and try to go, he stands in the doorway. ‘Don’t you walk away from me,’ he hisses.

  And I sit back down. I watch as he takes out every item of make-up I possess and smashes them to the ground in front of me, all the time raging about how I did my make-up for that guy, the guy whose name I don’t even know.

  The one with the kind eyes.

  I’m so numb I can’t even cry, can barely feel my heart racing. I stare and stare at my guitar on its stand, remembering the song I’ve never sung him, hoping I can hold on to that, and so it takes me a while to realise he’s screaming, ‘Going to answer me?’

  ‘What?’ I say through frozen lips. I’m shaking.

  He follows my gaze, takes in the guitar, and gives this awful hard laugh. ‘I was worried about you. Thought you might be depressed. But you’re a nasty, manipulative little bitch, aren’t you? You never cared about me, just what you could get.’ His face is so full of hatred and disgust he barely looks like himself. It freezes me so badly I think my heart might stop. ‘You want to know the truth? You’re ugly, boring, and you know what else?’ He pushes his face close to mine. ‘You sound like a fucking screech owl when you sing your shitty songs.’

  I gasp out loud and put my hands up to my ears, as though I can block out what he’s said, the cruelty of it sounding in my head like the aftermath of a bomb detonating, but that seems to make him angrier. He turns and aims a kick at the guitar and, unlike Shiney, this one connects. The guitar topples from its stand.

  ‘Stop!’ It comes out as a wail.

  But it’s like he’s not even there any more. He lets out another low roar, like a bear about to attack, and he grabs the guitar, lifts it above his head, and then crashes it into the ground. There’s the sound of wood splintering. He’s stamping on the guitar, kicking it, smashing it into a thousand pieces. And then Shiney starts to bark and howl, and it’s like the howling in my head, and somehow that unfreezes me.

  I snatch my phone up and run. Past Aaron, past Shiney, straight to the front door. In the hallway I barrel past the guy who sparked it all off, who’s standing there looking sleepy. ‘You OK?’ he says. But then Aaron crashes out of the flat too, and runs right past him, towards me, and I think I see true violence in his eyes.

  ‘Hey!’ The guy yells behind us.

  But I’m still running, as fast as I can, in a blind panic now, Aaron behind me, his heavy boots making solid slaps on the ground. I duck down an alleyway and then another, hear him shouting my name. I run harder, down towards the beach, not understanding why there, just knowing I have to run and that my feet are in agony with no shoes. I hit the sand and step up my pace, realise Shiney’s next to me. I’m sobbing, a stitch in my side, but I keep on.

  Eventually, though, I can’t run any more. I’m walking as fast as I can, wondering what next, thinking I should double back, try to knock on a door. I get out my phone, but it’s going in and out of reception. I’m walking like I’m on autopilot, and suddenly I know why I’ve come here, to a place I always thought was magic.

  I don’t think I can carry on any more. I’m so tired of it all.

  I walk right up to the shoreline. The tide’s way out, the edge of the cliffs looming far away in the distance to one side. The water is so cold on my toes. I stare out to where the stars meet the water in the distance. It would only take a few minutes to swim out, to let myself fade away, because that’s how I feel right now.

  Like I don’t even deserve to be here any more.

  One of the stars is winking at me. To call me to it or to tell me something else? And perhaps it’s that star that does it, or the fact I’m freezing cold, but it’s like I’m hearing an old song we used to sing in assembly when I was a little kid. It’s a song about love. Not of a person but of God, and even if I don’t believe in
one, I do believe in music. Despite everything, I still believe in that.

  And I know I could never swim out into those waves.

  That’s when Shiney growls, and the next moment, Aaron rugby tackles me and we spin into the surf with a splash.

  Chapter Fifty

  Gem

  I’m coughing and spluttering, with the cold and shock as much as the water filling my mouth. Aaron’s arms are tight around me. The next moment, he’s hauled me up. I stand there, soaking wet and shivering in front of him.

  ‘Gem. Oh God. You’re wet. Here –’ He takes off his fleece. Holds it out to me.

  I take it slowly, hold it close, trying to read his expression in the moonlight. My arms are shaking.

  Aaron’s talking, saying how sorry he is, that he lost control. That he thought I was about to do something crazy, and while he’s not totally wrong there, it’s like the water has woken me up from the longest dream. Or nightmare, I guess.

  ‘Come on, you’re cold. Let’s get you inside,’ he’s saying. He picks up my phone which has fallen into the sand, the screen still glowing. I reach out automatically for it, see him go to put it in his pocket, hesitate, and then hand it to me. I curl my shaking fingers around it like a lifeline as Aaron starts to lead me away, and even though my brain’s awake now, my body still follows him. We start up the beach together.

  And then I look back and I see it: that pinpoint of light in the house next to mine, close by where my room is.

  Was.

  And I stop.

  Aaron tugs on my hand. ‘Come on, we need to get you in and dry. We’ll talk … Maybe we can go away. A mini-break? You’ve always wanted one of those. Or to London. We could move. This town’s a shithole anyway. We could have a new start.’

  Part of me is so tempted. I would have given anything for him to say that to me a few days ago.

  And another part, the part that loves music, that still knows who I am, is looking at that tiny light in the distance. But I’m so cold, I can’t think.