Fighting Our Way

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Fighting Our Way Page 24

by Abigail Davies


  I make it to my car and rev the engine as I peel out of my parking spot, waiting for the gates to open. I’m on the road traveling toward Tris’s house, not caring about my speed as I get out of the city.

  My earlier thoughts swirl through my head: Was she really going to leave and not tell me?

  I thought she loved working with the kids and living in this town, but I guess it just shows how much I actually don’t know her, no matter how hard I’ve tried to get her to open up.

  I slow down as I reach Tris’s street, stopping at the end of his driveway. I lean my head against the steering wheel as I pull in deep breaths to try and calm myself down. I have to give her the benefit of the doubt. We both lead busy lives, so maybe she forgot she didn’t tell me?

  When I have my breathing under control, I drive and park outside the expansive limestone house, climbing out of my car and walking toward the gate into the backyard. The pool house’s curtains are open and much to my dismay, there are packing boxes spread over every surface I can see.

  Amelia comes into view, placing something into a box and my world tips upside down. Storming toward the pool house and throwing open the door, I gaze around the place.

  Amelia jumps, her hand flying to her chest. “Nate! What are you—”

  “When were you going to tell me?” I growl out, although it wasn't meant to sound as menacing as it did.

  Her hand flutters to her neck, obvious distress flashing over her face. “I…” She shakes her head, pulling a mask over her features. “I don’t understand.”

  Tilting her head to the side, she watches me, her brows drawing down into a frown. My fingers twitch, desperate to touch her but my mind is screaming at me to find out why she’s kept this from me. Why she’s leaving me.

  I motion around us, kicking an empty box beside me. “You’re moving away, leaving Tris, the kids... me, and you weren’t going to mention it?” I clear my throat to stop the lump that’s beginning to form. “Do you know how selfish it is that I had to find out from Tris?”

  “Wow.” Her hands slam down onto her hips. “I’m not moving away: I’m moving out.” I open my mouth to say something but she puts her hand up, stopping me. “And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you… but as you can see, I’ve been a little busy.”

  I immediately feel like an immature asshole for reacting the way I have, but I’m still mad she didn’t tell me. For that she has no excuse. “A little busy? How about a quick message telling me you’re moving out of Tris’s pool house?” I lower my voice as I move closer to her. “I thought we were together, Lia?”

  She blows out a breath, her shoulders drawing down. “I’ve been on my own for a long time, Nate. I just… I’m sorry, I should have told you.”

  I pick a box up off the sofa and sit down, elbows on my knees as she sinks into the seat beside me. “So have I, so I don’t get your reasoning for not telling me.” I chuckle humorlessly. “If I eat a really good burger, I want to call you up and tell you. Something so insignificant yet I want to tell you everything.” I need to shut up, I’m starting to sound like a needy asshole, and that’s not me.

  Her hand covers mine, her lips quirking up. “If you want to tell me about a burger then you can.”

  I squeeze her hand. “And in the future, can you bear in mind that you should probably tell me something as significant as you moving out?”

  “I will.” I wait for her to say more, staring into her eyes but not being able to see past the mask she’s covered herself with.

  “Can I ask you something?” She hesitates but finally agrees by nodding slowly. “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  I let my gaze wander around the room. “Why now? I mean, I get the moving out part… kinda, but why are you quitting taking care of the kids?”

  Her eyes close as she takes a deep breath, pulling her hand away. “I want to do something different.” She opens her eyes, staring into mine. “Now Tris and Harmony have worked things out: I’m not needed. It’s the right time with the kids finishing school for the summer.”

  I stare back at her not believing what I’m hearing is coming out of her mouth. “You can’t seriously believe that? Is that what Tris has said?”

  “Of course not,” she huffs out, standing up and pacing a few steps away. “He wants me to stay, but it’s time I moved on.”

  She picks up a few of her records, wrapping them in bubble wrap and I decide to move the conversation onto something else since she’s starting to clamp up on me.

  “Where are you moving to?”

  “The other side of town.”

  My nostrils flare but I keep my voice as calm as I can because she’s hiding something from me... again. “Okay. Where about?”

  She packs the records in a box, taping it up. “Nate, I’m really busy right now, can we do this another time?”

  I feel like I’ve already lost her before we’ve even had a chance to get this relationship off the ground. She won’t look at me, continuing to pack as I stand here wondering what’s going through her head.

  I’ve always been a straight shooter. I’m not afraid of saying what’s on my mind and I always appreciate when people give me the same courtesy, so the way she’s acting so cold toward me and giving little to no information makes me feel like everything she said to me was a lie.

  I want to outright ask her, but that would make her shut down on me, so I move in behind her, so close I’m sure she can feel my breath on her neck.

  “If you’re so busy, why aren’t you throwing me out?”

  Her back straightens, but she doesn’t move as she whispers, “I really don’t want to do this right now, Nate.” She pauses, and as she lowers her voice even more, I hear a hitch. “Please.”

  My hand lifts of its own accord, skirting gently up the outside of her bare arm. “Do what?”

  “This.” She starts to step away, but I wrap my fingers around her arm gently. “Nate,” she growls, and I hear the frustration in her voice echoing what I’m feeling.

  “Take five minutes out of your busy schedule to talk to me.” When she doesn’t answer, I sigh. “If this relationship was as important to you as you made it out to be then we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

  She spins around. “Of course it’s important to me. If it wasn’t then I wouldn’t have gone and met your parents!”

  “Is it though?” My heart beats rapidly in my chest. “I love you, Lia, but you need to give me something back. It feels like you’re always hiding a part of you when we’re together.”

  She breathes out slowly. "Nate, I—" Her gaze flicks to the other side of the room and I turn to see what she’s looking at, not seeing anything. She faces me, panic on her face. “I need you to go.”

  Her quick change in mood catches me off guard. “I’m trying to talk to my girlfriend about our relationship, but it’s like trying to get blood out of a stone getting you to say anything about yourself. God forbid you actually let me into your life like I’ve let you into mine.”

  I take a deep breath as she opens and closes her mouth like a fish, the mask she put in place starting to slip as tears fill her eyes. One trickles out and down her cheek and it’s like acid to me. I’ve hurt her out of my own frustration and that wasn’t my intention.

  “Lia, I—”

  She wipes the tear away from her cheek. “I didn’t tell you I was moving out and quitting my job with the kids because I didn’t know how to.”

  I step closer to her. “Okay. Then we’ll work on that. All I’m asking is for you to try and open up with me, even if it’s just a little for now.”

  Her gaze flicks out of the front doors and back to me. “I need you to go so I can pack. I leave on Saturday.”

  I step forward, picking up an ornament and wrapping it in bubble wrap. “I can help.”

  Her shoulders stiffen as she says, “I’d rather be alone right now. This move is important to me so I want to do it on my own.”

  It’s like we’re in a game of tug of wa
r, going back and forth which frustrates me more than anything, so I even shock myself when I blurt out, “If it’s so important to you to move out then move in with me.”

  She freezes in place, her shoulders tensing for a second as I wait on bated breath for her to say something… anything. That is until she turns around to face me.

  “I can’t, Nate.” She stares defiantly into my eyes. “I want to be independent.”

  I’ve heard enough. I place the wrapped ornament I’m holding on the sofa beside me, aware she’s watching my every move. “Why do I feel like you’re trying to tell me we’re over before we’ve even began?”

  She looks down at the floor before her gaze falls on mine when she lifts her head. “I don’t want it to be.”

  I sigh over the giant clusterfuck that is today. After everything’s said and done, I overreacted about her not telling me she was moving out, but I thought she was moving away, not moving out of the pool house. So her shutting down on me must be her way of coping with me confronting her, which makes me feel like a bigger asshole than I already do.

  I take three steps toward her, wrapping my arms around her shoulders and crushing her head to my chest as I suck in my pride and say, “I won’t interfere with your plans anymore, but once you’re settled into your new place next week, I want you to call me so we can pick up where we left off.” The tension leaves my muscles as she wraps her arms around my waist and I breathe in her familiar scent.

  I kiss the top of her head before she pulls out of my arms and takes a step away from me. “I’m not keeping you out of things on purpose, I… I just want to be able to say I did something on my own.”

  I want to tell her she’s not on her own, but I hold in my thought and nod silently, watching as she rubs the side of her cotton shorts in a nervous gesture.

  We stand taking each other in for a minute before she motions behind her. “I really do have to pack.”

  “I guess you do,” I say without any emotion in my voice.

  I feel hurt, stupid, and cut out by her, but I’m going to respect her wishes and let her move into her new place. But the clock’s ticking. Come Monday, it’s the start of a new week and I’m not letting her shut me out. I’ve had a taste of having her in my life and I’m not letting her go that easily.

  Love is a funny thing, sometimes you have to let it take its own course, whether you want to or not.

  I push the last box into the back of the SUV Tris gave me. I refused at first, but when he handed me the pink slip that said I owned the vehicle, I didn’t have a choice. He used the excuse that if I don’t have the car then I won’t be able to come back to this side of town anytime to see the kids. I wanted to tell him I wouldn’t be back anyway because it’s too dangerous, but instead, I took the keys and stayed silent.

  Closing the trunk, I step back, swiping my hands down my face before spinning around. A shadow darts around the back of the trees that line the edge of the driveway and my skin prickles. I’m used to this feeling now, I know they’ve been watching me closely since the last package, waiting to see what I’ll do. I’m glad they are because now they can witness me leaving. I only hope they’ll follow me and stay away from my family.

  Stepping away from the car, I walk back into the house where Tris, Harmony, Clay, and Izzie stand, waiting to say goodbye.

  Izzie is all smiles, but Clay’s face is downturned. He knows: he can feel it in the same way Tris can—I won’t be coming back.

  “I’ll see you really soon, okay?” I tell Clay, kneeling in front of him and wrapping my arms around him.

  He squeezes me tight, his breath catching as he says, “I’ll miss you.”

  “I’ll miss you, too,” I whisper.

  I hold onto him for a beat longer before moving toward Izzie, giving her the same hug and telling her the same thing.

  “I’ll make sure to save you a place at the tea party,” she says, grinning big and wide and showing me her teeth.

  “You do that,” I say, pulling away and standing.

  Harmony steps forward and gives me a hug, and that’s the easiest one out of all of them because when she lets go, I’m turning toward Tris and I feel my carefully placed disguise start to crumble.

  This is where I should tell him what’s going on; tell him everything and maybe he can keep me safe. I have the same things run through my head from a week ago, but I come to the same conclusion as I did when I was thinking of telling Nate: it’s too dangerous.

  “This will always be your home,” he tells me, pulling me toward him and crushing me to his chest.

  I wrap my arms around his waist, taking him all in and relishing in it. If I stick to my plan, I won’t ever see him again.

  Pulling away, I wipe away a tear that’s broken free. “I better get going.”

  Nodding to myself to give me the courage to leave, I spin around, taking the few steps toward the door. As I’m about to close it, Tris says, “What’s your new address?”

  “I…” I turn my head back toward him. “I’ll send it in a message, I have to get going to meet the landlord.”

  Closing the door behind me, I speed walk to the car, jumping in and turning the engine on. I don’t look back, driving down the driveway, briefly stopping at the end and turning right, heading out of the part of town with the big houses and through the tunnel to the other side.

  My gaze flicks toward the rearview mirror, trying to see if I’m being followed, but I can’t work out if I am or not.

  My mind swirls with so many thoughts I’m sure my head will explode, but the most prominent of them all is: Am I doing the right thing?

  No one knows for sure if the path they’re taking is the right one, but we all do what we think is best. Whether it’s the right or wrong thing, we do it out of love, to protect the ones who mean most to you.

  Half an hour after leaving Tris’s house, I pull up outside the run-down apartment block, the SUV completely out of place. Turning the engine off, I lay my hands on the top of the steering wheel, putting my head on them as I take a deep breath.

  I came to see the apartment on Thursday: it’s not the best of places, but it’s the only one I could find so quickly.

  A knock on my window has me squealing, and when my head shoots up I see the landlord standing there. His gray, greasy hair is combed to one side, a dirty tank top stretched over his small chest along with some black sweatpants hanging off his waist.

  Moving my shaky hand, I open up the door and slide out of the car. “Hi, Harry.”

  “Amelia,” he grunts. “Need some help?” He points to the back of the car, his dark beady eyes not moving from mine.

  “I… that would be great.”

  He swipes his hand under his nose, walking around to the back of the car without another word.

  We make quick work of carrying all the boxes up the two flights of stairs, and an hour later the door is closing behind him and I’m left in my new home.

  The walls are a beige color that’s been slapped on to cover a multitude of sins; a small, ratty sofa sits in the middle of the room with a worn coffee table in front of it. The open-plan, tiny kitchen is to the left, a cupboard door hanging off its hinges. I make a mental note to fix it tomorrow.

  Walking toward the large window at the back, I pass a door I know leads to a bedroom with a small bathroom off that. But it’s the rain that’s started to hit the window that keeps my attention.

  Opening it, I push it up all the way and step out onto the small metal balcony that’s part of the metal steps lining the side of the building. It’s only three foot wide but it’s enough to stand on and stare out at the run-down area. I sit on one of the steps to the left that lead up to the next floor, pulling my jacket closer around me and leaning my head back, relishing in the rain as it hits off my face and wets my hair.

  The lights in the distance shining through the darkening sky blink mixing in with the sounds of cars driving by, the voices in the other apartments and on the streets add to the soundtrac
k of my new home.

  It’ll take some getting used to having noise around, but for some reason, it’s comforting—as if I’m not alone.

  A pair of headlights flash on in the parking lot, and when I look down, that same tingling feeling rolls down my spine.

  It’s them.

  I keep my eyes on the car, not able to see through the windshield but knowing they know I’m looking at them.

  My nostrils flare; it’s their fault I’ve had to not only leave my home of the last six years, but that I’m having to break my own heart and that of the only man I’ve ever loved, destroying the future we would have had together.

  When I stand up, they rev their engine and squeal out of the lot. My nostrils flare. I’m not going to take this lying down. If my life is being ruined, then I’m going to make sure they can’t do the same thing to anyone else, and the only way to do that is to confront them.

  And that’s exactly what I’m going to do, I just need to do it in the right way.

  I said to myself I’d give her the time to move out on her own, but it’s been well over a week since I last saw her and I’m going out of my mind.

  I called her on Monday like I said I would—no reply.

  Tuesday came—no reply.

  Every day after that has been the same.

  I’ve called her twice already today and again—no reply.

  I should take the hint that she’s not answering, but I can’t. I stare at my cell wondering if I should call her one last time before I have to go and pick Maya up from my parents’ place. She’s staying over while they’re jetting off on vacation. She’s getting to the age where going on vacation with your parents for the summer is “so uncool.” Her words, not mine.

  I sigh, getting up and grabbing my car keys off the side unit, leaving my cell where it is on my coffee table and walking through my hallway and into the garage.

  The drive to my parents doesn’t take long and I’m soon walking up the steps and opening up the blood-red front door.

 

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