Love You Better
Page 17
‘It’ll pass, mate,’ Smith said. ‘A broken heart stinks, but you’ll come out of it.’
He’d looked at Mickey as he said it, but Effie could tell he’d directed it at her, which was ridiculous considering she’d never broken his heart. She’d wounded his pride, but his heart had remained intact, unlike hers.
‘I know it doesn’t excuse it, but she was hurt about what you’d said in Ireland. She thought you didn’t want to commit,’ Effie said.
Mickey sighed. ‘I’m twenty-five years old, why would I be thinking about marriage? You don’t have to get married to commit to someone. I was with her for a year and a half – surely that was enough?’
‘I know.’ Effie frowned. ‘I think she just wanted more. She was convinced you didn’t want a future with her anymore.’
‘So she went and ruined any notion of us having one – makes perfect sense.’ He put his cup down on the floor. ‘Of course we had a future, but there’s no way I could’ve stayed with her after she told me.’
‘She messed up, I know. And she knows it too.’
‘Yeah, she has. And I don’t think I’ll ever be able to look at her the same way again. Once you’ve cheated on someone, there’s no going back.’
This time, it was Smith’s turn to look embarrassed as Mickey stood and excused himself to go to the bathroom. When did being unfaithful become so common anyway? Smith had cheated on her, Lou had cheated on Mickey, and Effie had come within a whisper of doing the same to Oliver. An awkward silence settled in the living room, punctuated only by the television. It simply wasn’t worth it in the end.
She sighed, thumbing the handle of her mug, and looked at Smith. ‘How is he really?’
‘How do you think? She’s completely blindsided him.’
Effie nodded. ‘I know. It was the last thing anyone expected.’
‘Least of all him. And all because of a stupid misunderstanding.’
‘Do you think he means what he said? About there being no going back?’
Smith shrugged. ‘I dunno. Nothing’s ever black and white, is it? Couples get through that stuff all the time.’
‘Yeah, I suppose.’ Effie swallowed a gulp of her sweet tea.
‘But then again, some don’t. And you have to live with the fact that you fucked up the best thing to ever happen to you.’
She slowly took the cup away from her mouth and looked at him, slouched in the armchair with his long legs stretched out as his feet rested on a leather footstool. Why did life have to be so complicated? It didn’t seem so long ago that their group was a happy one, but now it was falling apart at the seams.
‘Must be hard. Having to live with that,’ she said.
He turned the remote over in his hand. ‘I’d like to say you have no idea, but we both know that’s not true.’
‘How’s Claire?’ She sniffed. ‘Still being mile high?’
Smith rolled his eyes and looked back at the TV. ‘Let’s not go there, yeah?’
‘Fine.’
Her cheeks burned as she waited for Mickey to come back from the toilet. She’d say her goodbyes and get out of there. How dare Smith make her feel like that, like she’d overstepped the mark, simply for asking how his girlfriend was? She tried to ignore the way that acknowledging Claire as his girlfriend had almost choked her. When Mickey came back into the living room, she stood up and pulled him into the hallway, brushing straight past Smith and trying her best not to breathe in his sweaty, grassy scent.
‘I can’t stay here much longer. I’m sorry.’ She looked at Mickey and pushed his hood down. His rust-brown hair was scruffy and clearly hadn’t seen fingers, let alone a brush for days. His normally bright blue eyes were dull and red-rimmed. She was willing to bet he’d just shed a few tears in the bathroom. ‘I just had to see that you were okay.’
He shrugged. ‘I’ll survive. It fucking hurts, but I’ll survive.’
‘I know you don’t want to hear it, but she does love you. She knows what she did was wrong and she’s sorry.’
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he clenched his jaw. ‘I know she is, but I meant what I said. You can’t go back when something like that’s happened. Look at you two.’ He nodded towards the living room. ‘It fucks everything up.’
She wished she could say that it didn’t, that Mickey and Lou could put it behind them, but she couldn’t lie. The truth was, it did ruin everything, regardless of how great the relationship was beforehand.
‘I know you’ll tell her what I’ve said.’ He put his hands on her shoulders as she began to protest. ‘It’s fine. She’s your best friend. It’d be weird if you didn’t.’
Effie pulled him into a hug and squeezed him as hard as she could. ‘I won’t say anything if you don’t want me to.’
‘I still love her, Eff,’ he whispered in her ear. ‘I don’t know how to not love her.’
Just hearing his voice, so small and lost, just as Lou’s was, formed a lump in her throat.
‘I know.’
She squeezed him again, trying to give him as much love and warmth as possible. It looked like it really was the end of Mickey and Lou, the couple everyone said was the perfect match.
She let him go, pulled his hood back up and left the flat.
‘Have you spoken to Lou lately? You haven’t been round there for a while.’
Effie looked over at Oliver as he kept his eyes focused on the television. As far as he knew, she hadn’t been back to Lou’s since the night he’d practically forced Effie to eat that rare steak. Things hadn’t been the same between them since, and Effie felt that soon, she wouldn’t be able to hide the tension she felt towards him. To make things worse, there was nobody she could speak to about it. She could hardly tell her friends that he’d forced her to eat until she’d thrown up, and even if she could, they all had their own problems. Her usual go-to was Lou, and she was still in the midst of heartbreak.
‘I spoke to her earlier. She’s still in a mess. I’d really like to see her this weekend.’
Even though he’d said he’d felt rejected, she didn’t even feel remotely bad for lying to him, not when it came to being there for Lou.
‘Why?’ he asked, flicking through the channels on the TV. ‘It’s not like the world’s ended. They’ve split up. Maybe you shouldn’t be getting so involved.’
‘They’re my best friends.’
‘People break up all the time. She was too headstrong for him anyway.’
Effie looked away, keeping her thoughts to herself. Lou was headstrong, but Mickey could match it. And it wasn’t for Oliver to cast judgement.
‘It’s late,’ she said. ‘I should go to bed.’
She left him on the sofa to go upstairs, and after her shower, she stood in front of the basin. Effie wiped the steam from the mirror, peering into the blurry reflection in front of her. She looked exhausted. The skin under her eyes was thin and dark. Maybe Oliver was right. Maybe involving herself in Mickey and Lou’s problems wasn’t good for her. And tonight, having seen Mickey like that . . . it had pulled at her heartstrings. She padded back to the bedroom with the towel wrapped tightly around her. She so badly wished she could fix things, even though she knew there was nothing she could do.
‘I thought you said you hadn’t seen Lou?’
Her eyes flicked to Oliver’s face as he stood in the middle of the bedroom, and her heart leapt to her throat. ‘I haven’t.’
‘So why do you have a text from her saying thanks for going round?’
She shook her head and frowned until she looked down and saw her phone in his hand. ‘What are you doing with my phone?’
‘You lied to me.’
Effie looked around the room, trying to put together a response. Yes, she’d lied, but he couldn’t really expect her to just dump her best friend.
‘Shall we see what else you’ve been hidin
g?’
He looked down at the screen, and Effie swallowed, trying to remember the texts she had stored. She knew she didn’t have any from Smith, but she had some from Lou, and since she hadn’t told Oliver the real reason why Lou and Mickey had split, panic started to set in.
‘Olly, don’t.’
She took a step forward, but he held his hand up to stop her and looked at the screen. ‘Let’s see: Why did I do it? He’ll never forgive me.’
A shiver ran through her as she realised he was reading through her text conversation with Lou.
‘Never forgive what?’ He looked up at her, but Effie stayed silent. There was nothing she could say because she knew what was coming next. His face darkened as he read the rest of her messages. ‘Let’s face it, I’ve never forgiven cheaters, so why should he?’
Effie pulled at her fingers. ‘Olly . . .’
‘Don’t be so hard on yourself. These things happen. He knows you love him.’ He looked back up at her with disgust etched onto his face. ‘Wow. Nice advice, Effie.’
She flinched. It was one she’d sent when Lou had been in the grip of self-loathing.
‘It’s not what it sounds like,’ she replied, thumbing the edge of her towel.
Oliver looked straight back at her and raised his eyebrows. ‘Really? So Lou didn’t cheat on Mickey and you didn’t say, “These things happen”?’
‘No. Well, yes. I mean . . .’
‘No? Yes? It can’t be both, so which one is it?’
She took a deep breath. ‘Yes, Lou cheated, and yes, I said that, but I wasn’t condoning it. I was just trying to make her feel better.’
‘So the story about them growing apart was a lie?’
Effie looked down at the floor and didn’t look up at him as he walked towards her. She looked at his feet, inches away from hers and shook her head. He was making it sound so black and white, but it wasn’t. She didn’t have anything to hide – she just hadn’t wanted him to judge her best friend, and he’d read the texts out of context. He hadn’t seen the state Lou was in at the time.
‘You lied to me about seeing Lou, and you lied about why they’d split up. Am I right, or am I wrong?’
Effie’s shoulders slumped. ‘Yes, you’re right.’
‘What am I supposed to do with this?’
‘I don’t know. Nothing?’ She daren’t look up at him. His voice was calm, but she knew by the sharpness of his tone that he was angry, and she couldn’t blame him. Regardless of her intentions, she’d lied, and she’d made a promise not to keep any more secrets from him. ‘I didn’t know how to tell you the truth.’
‘I’m not surprised, since your best friend’s a whore who goes around fucking guys behind her boyfriend’s back.’
Effie’s hand struck his face so quickly that it wasn’t until she saw the look in his eyes that she really realised what she’d done.
She took a step back as her eyes darted across his face. ‘I’m sorry.’
His cheek was bright red, and she looked down at her tingling hand. She’d never hit anyone in her life. She’d never even hit Smith when she’d found out about his cheating, and she’d burned with fury then.
Oliver’s face scrunched up, and she knew then that this was bad. Instinctively, she went to take another step back, but before her heel even touched the floor, the knuckles of his fist connected with her right eye socket. The surprise and force of the blow sent her flying backwards until she fell on the floor by the bedroom door. Her hand flew to her eye as she blinked furiously, trying to clear the blurriness away as intense pain racked through her skull. Seeing Oliver walking towards her, she scrambled backwards, shuffling along the hallway floor, feeling the carpet rubbing against her bare legs until her back was pressed against the wall by the stairs.
‘Olly, don’t.’
In slow motion, she saw herself put out a hand to stop him, but as his leg swung back, she tried to curl herself into a ball instead, bracing herself as she closed her eyes. The air rushed out of her in one breath as his foot connected with her stomach, sending shots of pain right across her belly.
‘Please,’ she spluttered before stopping herself. He’d winded her. She couldn’t speak, much less breathe.
Again, his foot drove into her stomach almost in the same place as before, and this time, she couldn’t cry out. Forcing her eyes open, she glanced up to see him, one hand holding the banister of the stairs and the other on the wall, with his face red and a vein she’d never seen before bulging in the middle of his forehead.
‘You fucking, filthy, lying bitch . . .’
Kick.
‘. . . covering for that cheating whore.’
Kick.
She gagged as tears fell over the bridge of her nose, burning her skin, and she clenched her stomach muscles, trying to minimise the impact on her insides. It felt like they were being smashed to pieces as he kicked her again. He grabbed a bunch of her hair and twisted her head, forcing her to look up at him before he spat right in her face. Effie’s eyes closed as the warm fluid hit her cheekbone.
‘You stay away from her. Do you hear me? From now on, you’ll have nothing more to do with her.’
He shoved her head back to the floor and kicked her one last time.
‘Clean yourself up. You’re fucking disgusting.’ Oliver prodded her with his foot before stomping down the stairs and leaving her in a crumpled heap.
Effie stayed perfectly still as the warm trickle of his spit ran down the side of her face. She daren’t even breathe. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to cope with the pain, but when her lungs started to ache, she had no choice.
Breathe.
She tried to get the air she desperately needed as her body trembled with shock. Her heart rammed in her chest, and her lungs tightened.
Breathe!
With the pressure in her lungs increasing, reflex kicked in and she gulped down a mouthful of air, expelling it almost straight away. Her stomach heaved and contracted as she pushed her face into the soft carpet of the floor, gagging. Each breath created spasms of pain in her belly and chest, intensifying the throbbing in the side of her head, but as she filled her lungs, the light from the ceiling beamed down on her, and slowly noises began to filter through to her ears. A car driving past. A pair of heels clacking on the pavement outside. Oliver, swearing and knocking things around downstairs in a fit of rage.
As the wheezing calmed, she lay there until her skin rippled with goosebumps and her teeth began to chatter. She curled up even further into a little ball, and her cold legs moved over a damp patch. Slowly, she sat up, using one hand to anchor herself, and looked down at the carpet. She pressed a hand into the floor and shakily brought it back up to her face, staring at it. She’d wet herself. She’d been so terrified of her husband, she’d literally lost control of her most basic functions.
‘You’re fucking disgusting.’
She wiped the spit from her face and hobbled to the bedroom, holding onto the wall for support and clutching at her belly, almost doubled over with pain. She looked at her phone in the middle of the floor with its cracked screen and cried.
17.
Effie blinked. How long had she been standing there by the window? When had it rained? Outside, the road was slick, its tarmac shining, and puddles speckled the pavement. She looked down at her arms, covered in goosebumps, and tentatively slipped a hand inside her towel. Her stomach flinched when she touched the tender skin on the area where Oliver had kicked her, and she sucked in a breath. Clenching her eyes shut, she swallowed, trying to block out what had happened. She didn’t want to relive the impact of Oliver’s foot driving into her stomach or his spit hitting her face. Her head throbbed, and the skin under her eye stung. She didn’t dare touch it, but she knew it was swelling. She’d have a black eye in the morning. How was she supposed to go to work with a massive bruise on her face?
He’d gone through her phone. He’d told her to stay away from Lou – her best friend. How was she supposed to do that? And why should she? She needed her now more than ever. She couldn’t just forget Lou existed. She didn’t want to. She wouldn’t.
‘You’re fucking disgusting.’
Effie grimaced as his words echoed around in her head, galvanising her. She knew she needed to shower, but there was no time. She dressed as quickly as she could, taking shallow breaths to control the pain, all the while acutely aware that Oliver was still in the house. The sound of his footsteps on the wooden floor echoed through the silent house, and she could picture him pacing the living room. It would only be a matter of time before he came back upstairs to finish what he’d started.
Dressed in jeans and a jumper, she grabbed a small bag from the bottom of her wardrobe and filled it up, not even looking at what she was packing. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that she leave, but with her bag packed, she sat on the bed and quietly cried, holding on to her side. What was she supposed to do? Where was she supposed to go? Anyone who looked at her face would know what had happened, without a doubt. She wouldn’t be able to hide away from the pity in their eyes. It was embarrassing.
She looked down at her cracked phone. Even with her best friends, she’d have to live with the shame of being the girl whose husband beat her, the one who’d messed up after thinking she had everything she’d ever wanted.
A sob exploded from deep inside, sending a shock wave of pain across her chest as she realised that there was only one person she wanted to see, and she was miles away in Ibiza. At this time of night she’d probably be curled up with a cup of camomile tea, reading a book. Despite their offbeat relationship, Penny would know what to do. She’d been in the same position once before.