by Chapple, GL
He lifted her off his lap and pushed her down into his vacated seat. I noticed her frowning as he whispered quietly in her ear before standing and asking for drink orders. I waved my hand to decline – rude, perhaps, but I was watching Maddie’s face. Her shoulders had slumped, and the sparkle had dulled in her eyes. She caught me staring and offered a smile, but it was entirely fake. I furrowed my brow, silently asking her if she was alright. She blinked rapidly as she nodded.
Christian came back with a tray of drinks and put them in the centre of the table before taking a seat next to Maddie. I heard Lena shout over the music to ask Maddie to dance, but she shook her head, making a grimace and pointing at her feet. I might have believed her if I hadn’t noticed Christian’s smug smile at her refusal. He pulled her close to him again.
I glanced at my watch and wondered how long it would take before he convinced her it was time to leave.
Turned out it wasn’t very long at all.
Christian was annoyed. He hadn’t said anything, and, of course, he’d been nothing but polite and friendly with everyone whilst we were at the pub, but I could feel how irritated and tense he was.
“Are you alright?” I asked him for what felt like the tenth time.
He glanced across at me offering a tight smile. “Stop asking me that! I’m fine. You know I don’t like you drinking to excess like this, but that’s your choice. You’d think your friends would look after you rather than let you get into this state, but there you go…”
I bristled, biting my tongue to stop myself from yelling back at him. I slowly counted to five in my head – I couldn’t make ten – before forcing a smile and turning to face him. “Christian, that’s a little harsh. I’m a grown woman. I’m able to handle my drink. We did a few shots and got a bit tipsy. I’m hardly wasted!”
“I thought you said everyone was going, not that it was a double date? Are you the stand-in for the dead girlfriend now?”
I flinched in my seat. “Christian! That’s an awful thing to say!”
He sighed, reaching across to squeeze my leg as he drove us home. “I didn’t mean that. I’m tired. You know how hard I work, and you’re out enjoying yourself with other guys. I just get a little jealous.”
“Other guys? They are my friends, Christian. You know them!”
“Would you like it if I went out with a group of nurses?”
“It’s not quite the same thing, and I work hard too.” I chewed my lip, feeling my annoyance with him increasing.
“I know you do, darling. Let’s not argue.”
He didn’t look the least repentant, and, as usual, he’d made it seem like an apology without actually saying sorry or taking any responsibility. I knew these things, and I hated myself for not calling him out on it.
He squeezed my leg again, and I looked at him unhappily. “Come on. Forget about your friends now. You’re with me. Let me get you home and show you how much I love you and how jealous you get me. You make me crazy because I want you all the time. I want you for myself.” He smiled, and I felt myself thawing towards him, knowing it was because of that smile that warmed me up inside, the three words that he said so sincerely, the way he told me that I was loved.
I went straight through to the kitchen when we got back to the apartment. I poured a large glass of cold water and hoped that it would settle my stomach. I was starting to regret the shots.
The room was tilting away from me as I rested against the sink. At least the cold water felt nice. Filling the glass up again, I carried it through to the bedroom, put it down on the bedside table as I reached around to unzip my dress, I felt Christian’s hands on my shoulders.
“Let me, darling.” He slowly ran his hands down the zip, reaching inside to cup my breasts as I felt a shiver wash over me. He began to kiss the back of my neck, and I leaned back into his embrace. He moved my arms and the dress slid down, pooling around my feet as he walked me forwards and pushed me down onto the bed. He climbed on top of me, covering my body with his as he kissed me, hungrily and starved. His lips were demanding, his kisses hard and rough as his fingers travelled over my body. I felt him removing his clothing and snapped my eyes open, realisation hitting my drink-fuddled brain.
“Shit! I think we’re out of condoms.”
“Shhh…” he shushed me as he continued to undress, pushing his lips back down against mine as he moved up the bed.
I tried to mumble against his mouth, needing confirmation from him. I was sure that we had used the last during our previous disastrous encounter, and I’d been in such a temper with him that I’d forgotten to buy more.
He raised his face slightly, just enough that our lips were parted so he could speak. “We’re good.”
Reassured, I relaxed. He slipped his hand between my legs, and I forced myself to focus on the movement of his fingers and the sensations they were causing.
I willed myself to feel more turned on. It wasn’t that I wasn’t attracted to Christian, I’d fancied him from the moment I’d seen him. It was just that the sex was mediocre at best. I told myself that I was being shallow, that we could learn to satisfy each other, and that I needed to give him time and let him know what I liked. The problem was that he didn’t seem keen to learn, and I didn’t know how to broach the subject without hurting his feelings and dealing with the argument that was likely to follow. He moved and straddled me. I made the right noises and effort, but there was only one of us who would get the desired outcome from this tonight.
Orgasms weren’t always a given anyway, certainly not for a woman. I was frequently reminding myself of this fact.
He collapsed on top of me, his breathing loud and heavy as has heart thumped against mine. He pulled out and lay beside me, cupping my face gently and kissing my cheek.
It was these little moments of intimacy that I lived for - when he looked at me as if I were the only girl in the world, when he made me feel loved, worthy and special.
I’d been struggling with our relationship lately. Christian had been so attentive when we’d first got together, always affectionate and thoughtful, but things had changed when I’d moved in to his apartment.
I snuggled in closer to him. Moments like this helped me feel at ease again. I reminded myself that moving in together had been a big step, that things were bound to feel different for a while, but at least I wasn’t on my own anymore.
I squeezed my arms around him tighter, feeling his chest vibrate as he spoke. “I’m going to shower. You want to join me?” he asked with a smile as he got up out of the bed.
“Yeah, I’ll come,” My eyes dropped automatically, and my stomach clenched. “Where’s the condom?”
“Pardon?” His voice sounded distracted, but I knew he’d heard me.
My heart was starting to pound. What the fuck was he thinking? “Christian, where the hell is the condom? You told me we were fine.”
I felt as if the warm, comforting blanket I’d been wrapped up in had just been snatched away from me. Chills raced over my skin, my stomach was churning, and I begged him with my eyes to tell me that what I thought had happened, hadn’t.
“We are fine…I love you…we’re in a relationship. We live together and I have a good job. There’s nothing to worry about.”
“Christian!” I stared at him, trying to slow my frantic mind down so that I could think, to be able to put my thoughts into coherent words.
I failed. “Fuck!”
His scowl returned, but I was too mad to care.
“I cannot believe you did that! You knew that I’d come off the pill! This is something we should discuss. You don’t get to make decisions like that for me! What if I get pregnant?” I was shrieking, the realisation that I could have just conceived a child was tipping me over the edge.
Nausea rose up and I raced past him into the bathroom, dropping down next to the toilet as I leaned over the bowl. He came and stood by the bathroom door as I held my hair back with one hand and retched.
Tears ran down my ch
eeks; I’d gone from feeling loved and protected to feeling worthless and vulnerable in a split second.
I’d stopped being sick, but I couldn’t move, resting on my arms on the bowl, the porcelain cool and hard against my face.
Christian huffed and took a step into the room. I felt myself tense, but he ignored me and went straight into the shower cubicle.
I didn’t want to stay in that room with him. I needed to get the morning after pill, but I was in no state to go out anywhere now. I stood and poured myself a small glass of water, ignoring him in the shower. I walked back into the bedroom.
After changing into my pyjamas, I left my clothes folded beside the bed - my act of rebellion - and crawled under the covers. I had so many conflicted emotions warring inside me, and I felt too tired and drained to try and deal with them. I turned onto my side and clutched the duvet to me as silent tears wet my pillow.
I began to mentally calculate how many hours later it would be before I could get my hands on the contraceptive pill. I had plenty of time, but, the earlier I managed to take it, the more effective it would be.
Christian walked back into the room, humming to himself as if he didn’t have a care in the world, and I felt like screaming at him. He dried and changed without speaking to me, then climbed into bed next to me. I felt his eyes on me, but I didn’t turn to face him.
He sighed, and I waited for him to speak, my whole body tense.
“Madilyn”- I cringed -“we can’t have this conversation when you’re drunk. There’s just no talking to you – you’re overly emotional. I told you that you’d had too much alcohol. I’ll excuse the state of your side of the room as you’ve just been sick and I don’t want to risk that again, but you’ll clean up your mess tomorrow. I hope you realise that I’m going to sleep terribly now, worrying about whether you’re going to choke to death on your own vomit! It’s just so selfish and unfair. You really need to think and consider your actions. I wanted to feel close to you. I didn’t want anything between us. I love you. If you were to become pregnant, I think that would be wonderful…it’s not something I’m afraid of…I want that with you. I thought you were the woman that I’d like to raise a family with, but maybe you have a point…you have some growing up to do first.” He huffed and turned to face away from me, pulling the duvet with him.
My blood was burning in my veins. I wanted to turn and yell at him, rage at him for how unfair he was being, defend myself against his spiteful words. But I lay there, mute, tears stinging my eyes and a knot in my throat that was almost choking me.
Within minutes I could hear him snoring - clearly his supposed concern had been put to rest.
I rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling, trying to look at what Christian had done from his perspective. I wondered if I was overreacting, but I knew I wasn’t. I tried to visualise myself with a baby, tried to picture us as a family, but the sick feeling was still there, and I knew it wasn’t the alcohol.
I lay still, unable to sleep. I had no idea how much time had passed when the room lit up for a moment. I glanced to the side, searching for my phone which was shining like a small beacon. It was a message from Marcus. For a second I imagined calling him and asking him to come and get me, to take me to a pharmacy and hold me until I felt better, but that was ridiculous. I swiped the screen and stared at his message, fresh tears welling in my eyes.
Invisible or fly?
It was three words, just another random message like the others that we’d shared, but it summed up exactly how I felt at that moment. Christian had made me feel invisible, as if I didn’t count. That he thought he could control such a huge aspect of my life, without even discussing it with me, absolutely gutted me. He’d made me and my feelings seem irrelevant and worthless, and I was so sick of never being enough for anyone. I wanted to run away; I wanted to flee; I wanted to fly far away and never come back. Before I even knew what I was doing, I’d typed and sent a response.
I set my phone alarm and switched it off.
I didn’t know why I’d messaged her. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now I was walking home, rapidly sobering up and freezing my balls off. The sex had been good - the sex was always good which was why I’d bothered to take her number - but she was starting to want more. I shouldn’t have called her. I hadn’t bothered with a taxi. Once she’d mentioned going out for a meal one evening, I’d wanted to get out of there as soon as I could. I’d started walking, and now, as cold as I was, I just kept going.
I slipped my phone out of my pocket and looked at the time. It was late, and I doubted she’d be awake, but I sent a quick text to Maddie.
Possibly my second bad text decision of the night.
Invisible or fly?
I sent it and grinned to myself. Hopefully she was awake so we could share some silly banter to take my mind off the long, cold walk back. Being able to fly would be pretty useful right now.
A few minutes later my phone beeped. I swiped to read her message, and my ready smile fell away.
Being invisible is reality, not a superpower. I guess that leaves me flying – which is like falling only before you hit the ground, right?
I stared at the phone in my hand and, without thinking, I hit the call button. The phone went straight through to voicemail, and I cursed. Standing still in the street, I tried to think what to do. I wanted to check that she was alright. If I’d known her address, I’d probably have walked to her apartment. But I didn’t, and I knew that she’d moved to live with Christian now. I started walking again, telling myself that she was probably just drunk and being melodramatic. She’d probably argued with Christian and was feeling sorry for herself, but, as I stared at her message, it felt more than that - she was hurting, really hurting. I could feel it. I debated texting back, but what would I say?
I pushed my phone into my pocket and continued to walk on for a while before muttering “Fuck it” to myself and pulling my phone out again. I typed a quick response and waited for a moment, but I guessed that she’d turned her phone off. I slipped my phone back in my pocket and walked the rest of the way home.
The sunlight was bright, shining in through the window. The curtains had been drawn back, so obviously it was quite late, and Kelly had left the usual tablets and drink on the bedside table.
I sat upright, leaning against the headboard and reached for the drink. I didn’t have a hangover: the long walk home had cleared my head and I’d had plenty of water. I put the empty glass back on the table and picked up my phone to check the time, noticing immediately just how late it was, and that there was a message from Maddie. I instinctively pulled myself up straighter, swiping the screen to read the text.
My own message to her from the night before caught my eye first:
You’re only falling until someone catches you.
Fuck! Was I offering to catch her?
I couldn’t get myself straight, let alone deal with anyone else.
The last thing I needed was her leaning on me for emotional support because she was having a hard time with her boyfriend.
I’d need to close this shit down.
My resolve weakened when I read her reply,
I’m too much to catch, too heavy to hold, too difficult to deal with: too much but never enough.
I tried to tell myself to back off; I didn’t need to get involved in this; Maddie was nothing to do with me; we’d shared a few humorous messages; it wasn’t as if we were close friends. I tried to talk myself out of responding, but I felt an irrational urge to protect her.
I put the phone down and slumped back in the bed, reminding myself that she was arguing with her boyfriend and that this had nothing whatsoever to do with me. We’d both been drunk last night; Christian had obviously been pissed off with her; I didn’t need to get involved in a petty domestic argument. I considered calling Nate to tell him that Lena should speak to her: that would be the best thing to do; that would absolve me of any responsibility. Lena was her best friend, and girls
talked about this crap - except I knew that she hadn’t mentioned anything to Lena about her reasons for staying at ours recently, and, if she wanted her to know, surely she’d have contacted her instead of me? Besides, I did feel responsible: I’d bought the shots. If they’d argued because she was drunk, it was kind of my fault. I wished I hadn’t sent that stupid message last night - I’d known it was a mistake.
I got up and went into the bathroom, turned the shower on and stepped in. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes, letting the water wash over me, but I couldn’t stop the pull of her message. I felt her calling out to me, I could feel her despair. I didn’t allow myself time to second guess myself again, cursing out loud, knowing – once again - that this was a mistake, I walked out of the shower, dripping water all over the floor as I walked back into the room and fired off a text telling her that if she let me have her address, I’d be there in fifteen.
I quickly dried myself and pulled my clothes on as her response came through. I’d half expected her to say she was fine, and that she was just complaining - but she’d sent me an address.
Decision made - I finished getting dressed and left the house.
I rang the intercom and waited impatiently. What the fuck was I doing here? Just as I was about to press it again, the buzzer indicated that the door was open. I walked through and went up the stairs. It was a nice apartment block; it was clearly posh since they had bowls of smelly twigs and fancy shit on the windowsills. I shook my head, frustration with myself growing by the second. I’d check she was alright, and then get Lena over here.
I rounded the corner, and her door number was directly in front of me. I rang the bell and waited as I rocked on my heels. I felt my jaw drop as Maddie swung the door open. If I’d thought she had been drunk last night, she was absolutely wasted at the moment.