Love to Hate You

by Jo Watson

  My breath grew faster and faster and my need for fresh air increased. It felt like there was no oxygen left under the covers. I gasped for oxygen and, not getting enough, I grabbed at the duvet and yanked it down. And as I took in that first breath of cool air, I came.

  It was the most intense thing I’d ever experienced. I felt like I couldn’t contain all the sensations in my body. It burst out of me and filled the whole room as I writhed and moaned loudly.

  And then, just as the sensation was tapering off, I felt Ben inside me. His mouth immediately came up to mine. He kissed me hard and moaned against my mouth as he moved inside me.

  No coherent thoughts formed. My brain just switched off.

  Our bodies developed a rhythm. As if we were both moving in slow motion. With each stroke, each thrust, each touch of our lips, our breathing and our bodies moved more and more in perfect unison. We were no longer separate people. We were one.

  As our breathing and bodies went faster and harder, only one thought penetrated the thick haze—I don’t want this to end. Before the thought could grab hold, it left me as pure pleasure took over once more.

  Our bodies moved faster still.

  “Sera, I love you …” Ben whispered, the words getting stuck in his throat as his body started to tense and his grip on my fingers intensified. I felt my muscles tensing too and I wrapped my legs tighter around him, even tighter.

  “I love you too,” I said.

  The moment was so intimate. Ben let go of my hands suddenly and then grabbed my face, looked into my eyes and came. I watched, transfixed, as his eyes seemed to cloud over for a few moments, before returning to normal. When it was over, we didn’t move. We stayed like that, our noses touching, our breath rushing in and out of each other’s mouths and still staring into each other’s eyes.

  When our breaths had finally slowed enough, Ben finally spoke.

  “Sera,” he said, “you do know what this means, don’t you?” He wiped some sticky strands of hair off my face.

  I looked up at him and shook my head.

  “You’re mine now. Officially. You belong to me until the day we’re both old and ugly and wrinkly and using walkers.” He smiled.

  “That sounds slightly creepy,” I said, smiling up at him.

  “I can be a bit of a creepy guy.”

  “Well, you did stalk me,” I said, running my fingers through his wet hair.

  “Hey, I didn’t stalk you. I wanted to talk to you all those times, I really did. But every time I tried I just … .” He shrugged, looking coy, then rolled us both over so that he was on his back and I was sitting on top of him. “I was shy. I chickened out,” he finally said.

  “I can’t imagine you being shy for one second.”

  “What can I say? You have that effect on me, Sera.”

  My stomach filled with butterflies at the thought of him sitting shyly in the corner trying to pluck up the courage to talk to me.

  “I have another confession to make, Sera.”

  “Mmmmm?” I asked slightly wearily.

  “Once I knew your name, I went looking for you on Facebook.”

  “Really?”

  He nodded again, looking sheepish. “I thought about sending you a friend request. But I didn’t.”

  I smiled down at him. “Well, I would have turned it down anyway. I don’t accept friend requests from strangers. Especially creepy ones.”

  He shook his head at me. “Not creepy. Just in love. From the first moment I saw you laughing, I had to know you.”

  I felt the smile on my face getting bigger. “So moving into this building, the job … that was a total coincidence?”

  Ben chuckled, “That, my dear Sera, was the cunning hand of fate just confirming what I already knew.”

  “And what did you know, Ben?”

  “That we were meant to be together. That somehow, after that night in the car, I would find you again.”

  I felt my face go warm from the rush of emotions that swept through me.

  “So I kept my promise. Are you going to keep yours?” he asked, taking my hands in his.

  “What promise?”

  “I still don’t know you. Not really.” He lifted one of my hands to his mouth and planted a soft kiss on the tip of one of my fingers.

  “The whole truth,” he said in a soft coaxing voice.

  “Okay. But can we have pancakes and coffee first?”

  Ben smiled up at me and nodded. He eased me off him and climbed out of bed, returning with two large, warm fluffy robes from his closet. “I stole these from the hotel, in case you recognize them.”

  “What?” My mouth fell open. “You didn’t?”

  “I wanted to commemorate the beginning of our relationship.”

  “Relationship?” I asked teasingly.

  Ben wrapped the warm robe around me. “I told you. You’re mine now.”

  He took me by the hand, and marched me out the door to the kitchen. “Sera White. Has a good ring to it, don’t you think?” He turned and flashed me a wicked smile and my heart literally stopped in my chest.

  63. Team Ben And Sera

  I think the pancakes, and seriously strong coffee, helped with the disclosure because, within a matter of minutes, I was telling him everything. Stuff I hadn’t told anyone other than JJ and Bruce. And it felt good, like opening the floodgates on a dam that had been stocked to capacity for years. The words flowed out of me and I felt myself getting lighter and lighter with each admission.

  Ben sat opposite me looking serious while I babbled. I told him about how my father was the loser dad of the century. How he gambled our life away and screwed hookers. How he’d landed up in jail more times than I could count. How my mother was constantly and morbidly depressed and wallowed in her self-pity all day long. How I was the sole breadwinner who needed to feed, clothe and educate my sister. How broke I was. How much debt I was in. I even quipped that if my car didn’t miraculously fix itself, I would have to get a job as a pole dancer to raise enough money for a new one.

  I told him that I barely earned enough to live on, and if it wasn’t for my rent-free accommodation and the fact JJ and Bruce bought all the groceries (something I felt bad about), I would probably be back in the trailer park. I went on and on for almost an hour and when I was finished, Ben just looked at me with an expression I couldn’t decipher. It made me nervous.

  “What?” I asked brusquely, feeling suddenly very defensive.

  Ben shook his head. “Nothing. It’s just … Sad. That’s all.”

  “Sad?”

  “Yes. You deserve so much more.”

  Something about that statement suddenly pissed me off. Was he looking at me like I was a charity case all of a sudden?

  “What?” Ben asked, reaching over and taking my hand.

  I shrugged, feeling suddenly tearful. “I don’t want you to think of me as some sad, pathetic charity—”

  He cut me off. “I don’t. I would never.”

  He looked sincere and I believed him. But there was something else in his look I couldn’t quite interpret.

  “What are you thinking?” I asked.

  “I was wondering if there was anything I could do to help?”

  Now it was my turn to cut him off. “No. Absolutely not,” I said. “I can handle it. I’ve been handling it for most of my life. I’m fine.” I averted my gaze and fiddled with the last pancake on my plate.

  Ben looked at me quizzically. “Why won’t you accept any help? Your car, for example; I told you, a mechanic owes me a favor.”

  “No.” I stabbed the pancake hard—the sudden move even surprised me.

  “Why? I don’t understand.”

  The fucking tears felt like they were coming again. “Because, I … I …” I reached up and wiped my eyes before a tear escaped. “I don’t want him to win. If I can’t do it on my own, then he’s won. It proves that he’s beaten me. Broken me. I won’t let him do that. I can’t.”

  Ben nodded solemnly as he
thought about what I’d said. “I totally understand that. But, what if people around you want to help? Not because they think you can’t do it, but because they care? That’s not showing weakness. Actually, that’s you proving to him that you can move on and create a life with people that love and care about you. Isn’t that a kind of win in itself?”

  This was the second time I’d heard this sentiment echoed in the last twenty-four hours. The horrible feelings flooded in again as I remembered the fight I’d just had with JJ and Bruce. “That’s kind of what JJ and Bruce said, too.”

  “Well, if three people are telling you that …”

  I dropped my fork. “I don’t know,” I said, shaking my head, feeling very confused. “I don’t know—”

  Suddenly, as if by some kind of sick, divine joke, my phone rang. I immediately glanced up at the clock on the kitchen wall, and, when I saw that it was nearly 3 a.m., my stomach dropped. Only my sister phoned me at this hour. And when she did, it was for one reason only. I jumped up and rushed for my bag immediately.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, as soon as I picked up. I glanced up and saw Ben had moved closer to me. He looked worried.

  My sister sounded desperate. “It’s Dad. He’s here. He’s drunk and he’s causing a scene. The landlord said they’re going to call the cops and kick us all out if he doesn’t leave.”

  A scene. That was a euphemism. I knew what “a scene” was. There would be yelling, swearing, throwing of things, maybe even some hitting. “I’m coming there now.” I hung up and ran to the bedroom to change into my clothes.

  Ben followed behind me and started changing too.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “I’m coming with you.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “Why not?” he seemed genuinely confused.

  “Um … because this is my family. It has nothing to do with you.”

  “We’re in a relationship now, Sera.” He tried to move closer to me and I instinctively took a step back.

  “So?”

  “So?” He sounded angry. “Couples help each other. We’re a team. Team Ben and Sera.” He ended that with a small smile.

  I imagined his words splashed across the front of another Hallmark card, but I was still unmoved. It was one thing telling him about my family, but it was another thing altogether for him to witness their chaos and destruction first hand. But Ben persisted.

  “Besides,” he said firmly, “I’m not letting you go driving around in the middle of the night alone. It’s not safe.”

  He had a point. “Fine,” I said. “But you’re waiting in the car.”

  64. Trust Me

  By the time we got there, the situation was already explosive. I couldn’t see them at first, but I could hear them screaming at each other. We parked the car and I immediately saw Ben’s hand reach for the door handle.

  “Stay in the car, Ben. Please.” I couldn’t hide the desperation in my voice.

  Ben simply nodded, reached over and took my hand. “You know where I am if you need me.” I nodded at him and climbed out the car.

  My sister ran up to me immediately. “Dad rocked up about an hour ago,” she said. “He’s begging Mom for money. She doesn’t have any, so he’s screaming at her and the landlord—”

  At the mention of his name, the angry landlord walked up to us, fuming. “If you don’t get that man off this property in five minutes, I’m calling the cops.” I glanced over at his house, which was only a few meters away from the cottage my mom and sister stayed in, and saw his wife and kids peering through the windows. They looked frightened. I didn’t blame them. My dad wasn’t the kind of guy you wanted coming onto your property at three in the morning. Especially when he was drunk and wanting money.

  “I’m so sorry. I promise I’ll sort it out.”

  “This is the fourth time this has happened!” His face was now red with rage.

  “I know. It won’t happen again, I swear. I’ll get rid of him.”

  The landlord shook his head and looked down at me with something resembling pity. “I like you and your sister,” he said, “and you always pay the rent on time, but I’m sorry. I can’t have you living on the property anymore. I have a family. Kids.” He looked over at his window. “They don’t need to see this.”

  I nodded. I didn’t blame him for feeling this way. “I understand. Again, I’m sorry.”

  Katie looked at me with sheer panic and, as always, I was overcome with a desperate need to make her feel better. “It’s okay,” I said. “I’ll make a plan. Start packing your things and I’ll deal with Mom and Dad.”

  We walked towards the cottage, and as I got closer I could see two figures silhouetted against the curtains. They were swinging their arms around wildly, and I heard words pouring out of their mouths that no two people should ever say to each other.

  The second I got inside, my dad pounced. “Sera. Sera.” He reeked of alcohol. His shirt was creased and stained with coffee, and he was barefoot and bleeding, as if he’d walked through a thorn bush.

  “I’ve figured it out. I know how to beat the system. It’s all in this formula I’ve worked out. I swear. It’s a sure thing. We’ll be rich. I swear.” His voice quivered, high pitched and desperate.

  Do you know how many times I’d heard this story before? He always had a way to beat the system. Some “get rich quick” scheme always brewing in his head.

  “I just need a couple of thousand,” he went on. “That’s all. In the morning we’ll have a thousand times that. This time it’s going to work. Trust me.”

  “Trust me.” Another line I’d heard over and over again.

  “Dad. I don’t have any money.”

  “Don’t fucking lie to me, Sera.” He stuck his finger out and pointed at me. He was shaking, no doubt from the alcohol.

  “Sera …” My mother jumped in now. “Just give your father the money. Just give it to him.”

  I looked at my mother. Her face was tear-stained. Her hair was matted and unbrushed. She was pale, pasty and flabby looking. She looked like she hadn’t gone outside, exercised or seen the sun in years—which was true. She was a broken shadow of the woman she once was, the vibrant woman who had gone swimming with me as a child. Who’d played hide and seek with me. There was nothing left of that woman anymore. Every trace of her was gone now, and it was all thanks to my father. He was a cancer.

  I looked from my sad mess of a mother to my father. He had a wild look about him tonight—more so than usual. “Dad. I don’t have any money.” I said it as calmly as possible.

  “You’re lying again.” He was screaming now and waggling his finger just inches from my face. I could smell cigarette smoke and cheap perfume. “What’s this then?” he asked as he moved to the kitchen table and started picking up the brand new big heavy textbooks and reading the prices.

  “Two hundred. One hundred and fifty. One hundred and twenty-five … I’m guessing you bought these for your sister?” He was waving the big, hardcover biology textbook around now. “So how did you buy her these?”

  Without warning, he jumped towards me and pulled my bag off my shoulder. In a moment of pure terror, I managed to push him and he went stumbling backwards like the sorry drunk he was.

  And then it happened. Again. The inevitable.

  “Don’t push your father like that,” my mother shouted at me, rushing to his side.

  After all these years, my mother was still choosing him over us.

  I looked at my parents and suddenly all the anger that I usually felt for them evaporated. Instead, I calmly watched my mother pandering to my abusive, drunk father and all I felt was pity. They were sick. They needed help. But they were also poisonous and I couldn’t keep letting them ruin my life—my sister’s either. This had to end—tonight. I needed to change things once and for all.

  “Katie. Go get your things. We’re leaving.”

  My mother looked at me with a strange look. “Sera? You don’t mean that.” />
  “Mom. I’m taking Katie with me. Not you. As far as I’m concerned, the landlord can call the cops on both of you. It’s time you sorted yourself out.” I couldn’t believe I’d just said that. But it was time to end this cycle now. Before it was too late.

  My sister made a move for her bedroom and then I felt the pain. I wasn’t sure what it was at first, but when I heard the loud thud and looked down, I saw the textbook drop to the floor. My face felt hot and wet all of a sudden. I lifted my hand to it, and my fingers came away red.

  It all happened so fast after that. Ben was there. He was screaming at my father. I could hear the words, but it was as if I no longer understood English. I had no idea what he was saying. My head was throbbing too hard to make sense of anything. Katie ran towards me and I felt wobbly, so she sat me down.

  My dad and Ben were shouting at each other, and my mother moved herself in between them, until my dad pushed her away. She too fell to the floor, hard, and started crying. My father then pushed Ben and, when Ben hit him, he crashed to the floor. The last thing I saw was Ben grabbing a handful of bank notes and throwing them in my father’s face and then coming towards me.

  Then everything went black …

  65. Shapes And Outlines Of The World

  When I woke up, my eyes hurt and they felt sticky, like someone had poured glue into them. I finally managed to open them ever so slightly after a few painful blinks. Through the small gap between my lashes, the shapes and outlines of the world around me came into soft, blurry focus. Everything looked very white. Too white. I blinked a few times until my eyes finally adjusted.

  I tried to sit up, but my head protested with a loud, angry thump. I grabbed it and took a deep breath, willing the excruciating pain away. When the hard thumping finally subsided to a dull grind and my eyes fully adjusted to my surroundings, I noticed where I was: A big, white, bright hospital room—a private one with a lounge and a spare bed. I looked around the room feeling confused. I had no recollection of how I’d gotten there, or what had happened. And there was no one there to explain it to me.

  But then it slowly came back to me. My dad. My sister. The fight. The textbook. I reached up and touched my forehead, feeling the rough stitches protruding. The second my fingers came into contact with them, I felt an unbearable, sharp pain that made me instantly nauseous. I closed my eyes again, shutting out all the other stimuli so I could concentrate exclusively on quelling the rising nausea and pushing away the pain rippling through my head and radiating down my neck.