Trust Me

by Claire Raye

  I sit down, grateful as I shake my head. “Just caffeine,” I tell him. “And maybe the car?” I add. He glances over his shoulder, a surprised look on his face. I shrug. “Gotta do it sooner or later.”

  “You want me to come with you?” he asks.

  A part of me wants to say yes, because even though I’m twenty-eight years old, I still feel like I’m about to face the firing squad. I shouldn’t be this scared, I always got on with my future in-laws. Not sure that’s still going to be the case though, especially given I fucked up when I couldn’t save their daughter and then bailed on everything.

  “I do,” I tell him as he hands me a coffee. “But I think I should probably go alone.”

  An hour later, I am pulling up outside Rachel’s parents’ house. It looks the same as I remember and for the first time since I got back here, I feel a tiny ache of regret and sorrow at everything I lost.

  Taking a deep breath, I force myself to get out of the car and make my way to the front door. They have no idea I’m even coming over and I wonder if I should’ve at least called or let them know I was back in Perth.

  As I lift my hand to knock, I notice it’s shaking and I clench my fist tighter in an attempt to stop it, before shoving it into my pocket as I wait for them to answer.

  It’s her mum who does and I don’t miss the surprised look on her face when she sees me standing on the other side.

  “Adam?” she asks, almost as though she doesn’t truly believe it’s me.

  “Hi, Jane,” I say, forcing a smile. “How are you?”

  “I, I…” she stammers before turning her head and calling out to Rachel’s dad. When Mike appears by her side, he’s wearing the same surprised look as she is, the two of them standing there, silently watching me as though they legitimately cannot believe I’m standing here in front of them.

  “I was wondering if I could come in,” I start, shoving a hand through my hair. “I think there’s some things we need to talk about.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Mila

  It feels weird with Adam gone, almost like a part of me is missing, but there’s also this strange feeling of relief. Without him here I’m able to focus on myself and there’s no more secrets within myself. It’s helping me build toward telling Adam, but it’s also making me wonder if he’s feeling the same way. If he’s feeling the comfort that being home brings, if he’s thinking he should just stay.

  I don’t want Adam to be part of my past though. I don’t want him to be the guy who made me trust men again. I want him to be the guy who will always remind me that he’s the good one, that he’s my forever, not just my right now.

  I’m staring at my phone screen, willing it to light up with his number. We’ve been going back and forth with calls, never really connecting. The time difference is brutal and sometimes it feels like we’re never going to get on the same page.

  He’s dealing with a lot and I keep reminding myself of that, but I also want to be the person he calls for support. It sounds hypocritical even to me as I’m the one still keeping all my worries and fears and secrets to myself.

  “Still waiting for him to call?” Charlie questions when she walks into my bedroom and flops down on the bed next to me. There’s no mockery in her question, no sarcasm or even annoyance, just pure solidarity and support. “You realize it’s like four a.m., right?” she adds, looking down at her watch.

  “I still can’t wrap my head around the time difference,” I admit, knowing I’ve called or texted Adam at all hours of the day with the hopes I’ll catch him.

  “Yeah, it’s a little much,” Charlie says, her voice flat and dare I say it, lonely.

  “Do you miss him?” I ask, not clarifying who I’m asking about, but she knows.

  “Adam?” she questions, giggling a little as she rolls onto her side to look at me. “Obviously I miss the way he adds new words to our vocabulary and his ability to score us booze.”

  “I wasn’t talking about Adam, you cheeky shit.”

  “Oh, who were you talking about then?” she questions, playing completely dumb.

  “I was talking about Josh. And yes, I know you didn’t like sharing a bed with him or having his sticky, sweaty body sleeping next to yours, but maybe you miss his company just a little?”

  She lets out a long exhale. Here’s where Charlie struggles. She won’t let him in, and she’s already got herself convinced that he isn’t worth any more of her time. It’s an act to keep her from falling for someone who will possibly one day see her either as a liability or a charity case.

  “It’s okay to admit you miss him, even if it’s just a little. You are human, Charlie and he was here for almost two weeks. You spent literally every day with him.”

  She’s still silent, not bothering to acknowledge what I’ve just said. Hopefully she’s actually listening, and my words are sinking in.

  “It was never supposed to be anything more. We both knew that. I could do the same thing with the keg guy from Stella’s, but I know better. With Josh there was an ending and no real way of showing back up unexpectedly,” she finally says.

  “You didn’t answer my question.” I click my tongue as I look over at her, waiting for her snarky comeback.

  “Yes, I miss him. A little,” she says, tacking it on at the end. “I miss his stupid accent and his dumb questions about Americans. And the way he mumbles my name in his sleep all clueless and dopey. And the way he smells like the ocean.” She stops and I bite down on my bottom lip to keep myself from laughing. She’s totally smitten and as funny as it is, I feel bad for her. She may never see him again. “Does Adam smell like that too? Like what the fuck is that? We live near the ocean, but the guys here smell like stale beer and body odor.” She shrugs, her nose wrinkling up a little. “Maybe it’s an Aussie thing.”

  “Yeah, Adam does smell like that too. But I don’t think it’s an Aussie thing, Charlie. I think it’s a comfort thing. Like maybe you actually like him kind of thing.”

  She narrows her eyes at me, and I laugh a little. Her crabby face couldn’t be any cuter. “Stay out of my head,” she snaps, glaring at me, but her lips tick up in a small smile.

  “It’s okay to let yourself like him.”

  “I feel like I said that to you once, so you don’t get to use my words back at me. Those are copyrighted,” she teases again. “And yeah, I know. I do like him and it was nice to have someone to hang out with and if I’m being real, someone to have sex with, but it isn’t ever going to be a thing. Mila, he lives on the other side of the world and we both know I’d be shit at long distance.”

  “Or maybe you’re just scared.”

  I know I’ve said too much, and I instantly feel bad. Suddenly I’m some kind of expert since coming to terms with all the lies I’ve been telling myself.

  Focus on the things you can control.

  Trying to control Charlie’s life isn’t going to help mine. Analyzing Charlie’s faults aren’t going to make mine any less apparent.

  “I’m sorry. I just want you to be happy. I just want someone to see all the wonderful things I see in you,” I say, knowing it’s now time to drop the Josh thing.

  “I know and I’ll get there. I’m still dealing with… Well, I’m still dealing with shit. Since we moved to Hawthorn, I haven’t had to tell anyone about my past and no one is being nice to me because they have to, and no one is ghosting me when they find out…” Charlie doesn’t say it out loud. She hasn’t said the word in years. It’s like it’s become a swear word. The mother of all swear words. And when I think about it, I haven’t said it either. It’s been dropped from our vocabulary.

  We’re interrupted by the sound of my phone ringing and we both instantly look at where it is lying between us. Adam’s name lights up the screen and the smile that spreads across my face happens without me even realizing it.

  “I thought you said it was like four in the morning?” I question Charlie and she shrugs she
epishly.

  “I made that up. I have no idea what time it is there. I just thought it would make you feel better.” She hops up from the bed, her finger pointing at my phone. “You gonna answer that or let that boy think he’s gotta chase you?”

  She walks out of the room, closing the door behind her as she goes.

  Strangely my heart is racing, this weird nervous energy is coursing through me. When we’re together everything is easy; it all plays out naturally. Our conversations, our feelings toward each other, but now, things feel stilted and unknown. I have no idea if he’s going to come back or if he’s calling me because he feels like it’s just something he should do.

  But why would he take it to that extreme? He could literally stay in Australia and all I would have is a phone number. He could block my number and it would pretty much end there.

  Oh my fucking god, I need to shut up and answer the phone!

  “Hey!” I say, my voice a little too needy, a little too excited.

  “Baby, I miss you,” Adam instantly replies. “Seriously, so much.” He sounds beaten down and tired and my heart breaks a little at the thought. I wish I were there with him because I’m certain he’s struggling to keep it together.

  This is what he ran from, what he never thought he’d have to face again, but here he is, doing it alone.

  “I miss you too. How are you?” I ask, a vague question that I know won’t prompt him to tell me the truth. He’ll be equally vague in his answer back. What I’ve learned from the few times I’ve been to see Liz is people are afraid to come out and ask the hard questions and it’s easier to dance around the truth. But what we all need is to start having those hard conversations so we can heal.

  “I’m okay,” he says, and my chest constricts, tightening painfully at the avoidance, hating that I’ve let him off the hook and made him think I’m not interested in the real story. “It’s finally nice to not have a bunch of background noise. It’s so quiet. Where are you?”

  “I’m in my room. How about you? What time is it there?”

  “I’m in my room too.” He pauses and adds on, “My childhood bedroom.”

  Laughing, I can’t help but picture him in a single bed with posters hanging all around him, possibly even some plastic glow in the dark stars on the ceiling. “How’s that going?”

  “It’s going. It’s weird and right now it’s still dark out and the house is quiet. It all feels really fucking weird to be honest.”

  “What time is it?” I ask again and I find myself shaking my head at the stupidity of my questions. This is leading to nowhere.

  “Just after five.”

  “Oh my god, Adam, that’s so early. You’re going to be exhausted today.”

  He lets out a low sigh, almost like he’s waiting for me to ask him how he’s really doing. No one wants to sound desperate or like they’re begging for help, but Adam and I are at a point where we are begging for help and I’m not listening to him.

  He’s exhausted and it’s not the time change or the travel or even the fact that he’s up so early. He’s exhausted by his life and everything he’s dealing with and right now he’s hoping I’ll be his outlet. But I have no idea if this is something we should be doing over the phone.

  “Yeah, the jet lag is killing me. I had no idea I’d have this much trouble sleeping. I’m all fucking hazy. It sucks.” He answers before I can bring myself to ask the hard questions and it feels like the moment is gone again. “How are things going there? You going to class? Caleb doing alright at the bar?”

  Now it’s me letting out the sigh. We aren’t going to say what needs to be said and I’m not going to push it. It’s easier to stay here on the surface, missing each other and asking basic questions. It’s too hard to listen to someone’s heart break over the phone and know you can’t do anything to comfort them.

  “Yep. Classes are good. Bar is good. Same old, same old here. Well, except that Charlie misses Josh.” I drop that last part in there to keep things light and away from us.

  “Well fuck, who would’ve thought. Josh is wandering around like a lost puppy. Charlie’s a catch,” Adam says, chuckling a little.

  “Her birthday is in a couple of weeks. We should set up a FaceTime call with him and surprise her,” I say, knowing it secretly would make her so happy to see his face.

  “For sure,” Adam agrees, stopping for a second. “But I think I can do you one better and possibly bring him back with me.”

  I completely disregard his comment about Josh returning to the States and focus my attention on the last part of his comment.

  He’s coming back.

  At least he is for now. I’m silently sending up a prayer to whoever is out there listening, begging for nothing to change, for nothing to keep Adam in Australia. I have no idea if he’s taken care of putting his house up for sale or dealt with Rachel’s estate. I want to ask, I desperately want to know, but I have no idea what will cross the line.

  Adam has never given me any indication if he wants me to talk about Rachel or ask about her, and surprise, surprise, we’re out here navigating all this unknown for the first time.

  I must be silent for too long, wrapped up in my own thoughts and my desperate need for Adam to come home to me, because I hear him call my name.

  “Mila?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m coming home,” he says, his voice now quieter than before and for a split second I swear I hear the faintest sound of him possibly crying.

  “I’ll be here waiting for you.”

  “You have no idea how much I needed to hear that today,” he says, but I do know he needed to hear it. Just like I needed to hear him say he’s coming back. Even if I still have that nagging voice in the back of my mind whispering, “But what if he doesn’t.” It’s enough for right now.

  “I love you.”

  “I love you so fucking much, Mila.”

  But will he still once he finds out?

  Things I can control.

  I feel like I just need to keep repeating this to myself.

  “I’ll see you soon, Adam.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Adam

  After Mila and I hang up, I lie in bed staring up at the ceiling, my mind replaying our conversation along with the events of the past few days and all the things I haven’t been able to tell her on the phone. I want to, so badly, but none of it feels like the kind of thing you say over the phone. Especially when we are a million miles apart and already struggling with secrets.

  Right now, all I want is to just be with her. To forget about everything that is happening and all the shit I have to deal with and just be with her. I miss her so much. Waking up without her, being without her is tough and with every day that passes, I can feel myself being drawn further and further into that black hole I thought I’d finally managed to start pulling myself out of.

  And seeing Rachel’s parents had been hard too, a lot harder than I’d expected it to be. After they’d gotten over their initial shock at finding me standing on their front doorstep for the first time in over a year, they’d invited me inside, just like they’d done so many times in the past.

  It hadn’t been easy though, the three of us facing each other for the first time since the funeral. It had been awkward and tense as we’d gone through an endless range of emotions. Everything from anger to frustration, fear to regret, sorrow to a tiny, brief moment of happiness when we actually talked about Rachel and not all the shit that was lingering between us.

  But then they’d asked me what I’d been doing for the past twelve months and when I told them I’d left and gone overseas, something had switched with them and everything had gone to shit. Both of them had changed, hardened almost, their anger growing as they’d started shouting, telling me I was selfish, that I’d basically abandoned Rachel and what we had together to go travel and see the world.

  It was so far from the fucking truth; I couldn’t believe it.
But I also couldn’t explain it, so I’d gotten up and left, walked out without another word and no closer to resolving any of the things I’d come back here for.

  I’d driven to the beach then and spent several hours just sitting on the sand, watching the ocean and the surfers and eventually the setting sun, trying to work out what the fuck I was doing with any of this. Nothing seemed to make sense to me anymore, including what I was supposed to do with our house or her stuff or all the shit with her parents. The only thing I did know is that I wanted to get back to Mila as soon as I could because she is the only thing that feels good in my life right now.

  Just as I was leaving the beach to head back home though, Rachel’s dad had called, partly to apologize and partly to ask if we could talk again. I’d gone back over to see them the next day and this time things had been better, the three of us finally talking about what needed to be done with everything, even if all of it had been leading to today and what was about to happen in a few hours.

  Exhaling, I pick up my phone, scrolling through my photos, to pictures of Mila and I at Disneyland, the night of her birthday and of us, just hanging out at home, laughing and so fucking happy it makes my heart hurt just to look at them.

  I want to speak to her again, but I don’t, instead texting her a message. Three words I’ve said a million times already, but which never seem to be enough.

  Me: I love you.

  She doesn’t respond, but that’s okay, it’s just something I need to say to her right now. I slide out of bed, my bare feet hitting the floor as I rest my head in my hands and wonder how the fuck I’m supposed to get through today without her. If ever there was a time I did need her, it’s now.

  But I know that’s not possible, so I stand, pulling on some clothes before heading out for a run, my body somehow both completely wired and totally fucking exhausted. My feet pound the footpath of my parents’ neighborhood, as I push my body harder and harder, the early morning quiet, but doing nothing to calm the storm raging inside my head.