by Nicola Haken
“You are to me,” I declared resolutely, crawling onto my knees and throwing my arms around his neck. “It won’t always be like this. We’ll get through this mess. If we just let Sarah sign over-”
“NO!” he blared, pushing me away from him. “I won’t bow down to that monster! And to be honest I can’t believe either of you would even ask me to. He’s taken EVERYTHING from me! Don’t you see? HE made me like this. HE turned me into this worthless piece of shit and I will NOT back down to him. The fact that you could expect me to? Well fuck, doll… that just blows my fucking mind.”
Just when I thought we were making progress, he lashes out at me.
Again.
As much as it pains me to say it because it feels like I’ve already given up on him, I’ve learnt it’s not worth trying to calm him down. When his eyes go dark and the muscles in his neck pop like this, it’s like he can’t even hear me. All I can do is wait for him to run.
“I’m going out.”
And, there you have it.
Chapter Nine
~Dexter~
For the first time in my life I was so looking forward to this day. New Years Day. A day when you get to start over – make plans and resolutions and get excited over the year of new things to come. You see this year was the first time I actually thought I had a shot at it. I had Emily. She was my future. She was the foundation for all my plans.
Turns out though, it’s just the same as any other New Years Day. I’ve got nothing.
Emily’s still here. But I wish she wasn’t. You think that sounds heartless? Well that’s because I am. I’m letting her down day after day. She keeps trying to talk to me – get me to open up. But I can’t deal with the pain making her baby-blue eyes glisten so I just run. Every fucking time.
I can’t remember the last time she smiled – the last time her plump little lips turned up making her eyes light up and her cheeks flush. I did that to her. I’ve taken her ability to be happy away. I’m destroying her, just like I always knew I would.
Aunt Sarah has accused me of using again. I’ve stopped denying it. That’s mainly because I’ve stopped saying anything. I keep out of the house as much as possible. I’m hanging on to my job at the garage by the skin of my teeth and I spend the evenings either with Jaxon or holed up in some dive.
The strangest part of all this shit though, is I’m surprisingly okay with it. I think I’ve finally accepted this is who I am and this is the future I deserve to have. I was foolish for believing I could be anything different. Now I just need to convince Emily the same.
I went home to change after work before heading out again. I wasn’t meeting Jaxon tonight. Turns out he’s another interfering motherfucker too - spent all day on my case. Said he’s worried about me. Jesus, you’d think he was my fucking wife! Double standards, that’s what that shit is. It’s fine for him to go out and have fun - snort the odd line, drink a few shots… but me? No. If I do it then it’s ‘cause I’m fucked in the head.
It didn’t seem like anyone was home as I made my way up the stairs. Relief washed through me and I headed straight to the bathroom and slammed the door behind me. I couldn’t face them today. We had a huge argument last night. I came home from work to find Aunt Sarah and Emily having a cozy little chat with the corrupt and conniving piece of pussy my father calls a wife.
I don’t even know what it was about. The second my eyes caught sight of the pile of papers and documents sprawled out across the coffee table I exploded. I’d never felt so betrayed in all my life and so after giving all three of them a piece of my fucked-up mind, I got the hell out of there. I didn’t come home last night so I’ve not seen them since. Hell, for all I know I might not even be ‘home’ now. Maybe that’s why no one’s here. Maybe I’ll get out the shower and find Daddy cooking up a good old casserole for ‘family’ night.
After stripping down and turning the shower onto the hottest setting I pried open the loose tile in the corner while I waited for the room to fill with steam. I had to be fast – making sure I took the hit before the mist had time to flood the air. Otherwise it would leave more on the surface than in my system and well, that’s just a damn waste.
I leaned over the marble counter with one finger pressed against my right nostril. I didn’t have a bill so it was trickier this way and I had to go back for seconds.
“Dexter?”
Fuck.
I snapped my neck towards the door which I didn’t hear opening over the stream of the shower pelting against the tiles. Emily was standing there with a horrified look on her face. Her tiny body was trembling and her eyes were red and swollen – just like they always were lately.
“What are you doing?” she asked shakily.
“Nothing,” I answered sharply. “Just… leave.”
“I said what are you doing!” she blared, striding towards me with her shaking hand reaching out for the almost empty baggie next to the sink.
“I said LEAVE!” I ordered, turning hastily to stop her reaching it. But she was closer than I thought and as I swung my arm out in front of her, it smacked into her chest – shoving her to the ground. “Shit, Emily!” I bent down to help her but she wriggled away from me.
That was the moment the last piece of my heart died inside my chest. The moment I looked into her eyes and saw… fear.
“Fuck, Emily I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean… it was an accident. I’d never hurt you, doll. You know I’d never hurt you. I’m so fucking sorry.” I was naked and crouching next to her on the cold floor – trembling from both the effects of the high… and the shame.
“Look at yourself,” she spat, the fearful look in her eyes morphing into disgust.
“Emily please…” I begged, reaching for her again.
“Don’t touch me.” She clambered awkwardly to her feet but I couldn’t find the strength or the courage to rise with her. Shaking her head and letting her tears fall freely down her beaming cheeks, she added “what have you done to us, Dexter?” Then she left, leaving me alone – huddled in a crumpled ball and crying into my knees.
I was wrong before. That was the moment the last piece of me died.
Chapter Ten
~Emily~
“You were right,” I muttered desolately when Sarah arrived home later that evening. She dropped the grocery bags she was carrying and sighed heavily – knowingly. “I don’t know what to do.”
“You can’t do anything, honey. Neither of us can. Dexter is the only one that can help himself now.” Sarah joined me on the couch. She leaned back and held her arm out for me to fall into. So I did. I leaned into her chest and sobbed violently into her caramel mac. It was a strange feeling. Comforting. Motherly? I wouldn’t really know. Nevertheless it felt like I belonged there and so I let her hold me until the tears stopped wracking through my body.
When I finally pulled free, leaving damp splodges all over the front of Sarah’s coat, she stroked my hair.
“Nobody would blame you for leaving you know,” she whispered without a trace of judgement in her sweet voice.
“But I love him,” I declared – my timid voice cracking. “I miss him.” I miss him so badly. I see him everyday but he’s so far away from me it makes my heart throb brutally against the weakening walls of my chest. “I just want to help him and I don’t know what to do.”
“Maybe you should tell him you’re leaving,” she suggested.
“No,” I affirmed, shaking my head decidedly. “I won’t leave him.”
“He doesn’t need to know that. Maybe the thought of losing you is what he needs.” I looked up at her warily. “I know it sounds harsh, but I’ve been in this position with him before. He won’t change unless he’s given reason to. He gets stuck. He loses sight of everything that’s important to him. Maybe he needs reminding what’s at stake.”
“Maybe,” I sort of agreed, feeling overwhelmingly selfish for even considering the idea. “Do you think I’m naïve?” Even though she was Dexter’s aunt – his only fami
ly – I knew Sarah would be honest with me. “Do you think I rushed into this?”
“No, honey. I think you were the first person in a long time who got to see my Dexter. The real Dexter… And you fell in love with him. Love is such a powerful emotion. It’s not all about the hearts and flowers and bluebirds singing. It involves compassion, trust, compromise… and often, pain. You can’t control those kinds of feelings and it doesn’t make you weak or stupid. Being able to love so freely, so openly as you have with Dexter, makes you one of the strongest people I’ve ever met.
“But being strong doesn’t mean you should give up on yourself either, honey. I love that boy, you know I do, but he’s making you sick. You’ve lost weight this past couple of weeks. You’re not sleeping, you’re barely leaving the house… If you don’t take some time out for yourself then you’re not going to be physically able to support him for much longer.”
“No. It feels so selfish to even think about me just now. He needs me.”
“But what good are you to him when you can’t even think straight?” Instinctively, I looked at her with an offended expression distorting my face. But it faded just as quickly. She was right. “As much as it hurts, you need to remember that right now in that messed up head of his, he doesn’t need you. At least he doesn’t think he does. You can’t save someone that doesn’t want to be saved, honey. Believe me, I’ve tried. The next step has to come from him. I know that sounds terribly heartless of me, but-”
“Sarah I could never think you’re heartless,” I interrupted, covering her hand with mine. “You’re right. Those things are difficult to hear… but I also know you’re the only person who’s experienced this side of Dexter before. And I trust you implicitly. You’re like a mum to me,” I declared. An earnest smile melted across her face and placing her other hand on top of mine, the beginnings of a small tower, she squeezed it gently.
“I know it seems bizarre,” I continued, “given that I didn’t even know you existed a couple of months ago… but you’ve shown more love to me in that short time than my own mother ever has.”
“Oh, Emily,” she breathed, prizing our hands apart and opening her arms for another hug.
I spent the next couple of hours telling Sarah all about my childhood. I told her about Livvie, reliving the day I watched my baby sister drown all over again. I told her about my mum and the fact she sees me as a hindrance – an inconvenience who by needing to be clothed and fed, stole some of the precious time she’d have rather spent impressing her posh friends. We talked about my dad, and together decided that my parent’s marriage has possibly lasted all this time more out of convenience than love.
Naturally our conversation led to my friends and I told her all about Rachel and Jared. I included Chris too, because it felt wrong to discuss him with the same breath as my parents. Then… I started crying. Again. Like, seriously ugly, wailing type of crying.
“You need your friends, honey. Go home. Take some time out,” she whispered into my hair as she continued to hold me close to her chest. My throat was too tight to let words pass through so I simply shook my head.
“You haven’t got anyone else either. It wouldn’t be fair to Dexter or you if I left.” Can you see me wavering there? For the first time I didn’t spit an outright no. Was I actually considering leaving him? Leaving these two precious people who I loved with all my heart behind so I could focus on myself? “Christ I feel so selfish.”
“Why?” she asked, dumbfounded.
“Because I’m considering it,” I confessed, shame boring into my cheeks and making them glow bright red.
“You’re not selfish,” she said adamantly, pushing me gently off her chest so she could look at me. “Emily, I know how much you love him. But right now? That just isn’t enough. Go home. Get your head straight and let me look out for him.”
“But that right there is what I’m talking about. You’re struggling with this as much as I am – maybe even more so. Yet you would never dream of giving up on him. But me…” I trailed off, too abashed by my selfishness to continue.
“You’re right, I wouldn’t. I think of him as my son and as much as it’s killing me to see him hurt himself like this, I have no choice but to watch over him. But I’m older and stronger than you, honey. I’ve dealt with this situation before and as callous as it sounds, I’ve developed a certain hardness to it. That doesn’t mean I don’t cry myself to sleep with worry every night, it means when he’s spouting hurtful things to me… I can tune out. I know that’s not really my boy.
“I’ve coped for a long time on my own. It’s been so long since I had other family or friends to help me through, I don’t need anyone else anymore. You do, Emily. And it doesn’t make you weak to need support from your friends. Besides, you’re not giving up on him. You’re going away to get some space and make yourself stronger and healthier so you’ll be in a better position to hold him up when he eventually finds the courage to fall on you.”
I was more than just considering it by this point. In fact, I had almost made up my mind.
“He’ll hate me.”
“Honey, he hasn’t got room to hate anyone else just now. He’s got that emotion all used up on himself.”
“He’ll think I’ve let him down. That I don’t care. What if… what if I go and he doesn’t want me back? It would destroy me.”
“Emily…” She said my name almost sternly. “You need to remember the Dexter you fell in love with.”
“You’re saying it like he’s dead!” I snapped unintentionally, followed by an apologetic frown.
“No, honey. I’m saying it like he’s not here… because right now, he isn’t. What I’m trying to say is, imagine telling ‘clean Dexter’ how you’re feeling right now. Picture yourself telling him how selfish you feel - how much you’re struggling… how much you’re hurting. What do you think he would say to you?”
My heart slipped down into my stomach remembering ‘that’ Dexter. God I miss him.
“He’d tell me never to forget that he loves me.” Remembering the exact words he once said to me made a silent and lonely tear trickle down my cheek. “I know what I have to do.”
“Come on, honey, I’ll help you get things arranged.”
So that was it. I was going home. I was leaving the man I loved more than life itself… leaving him to suffer without me – to destroy himself.
And I hated myself for it.
**********
“I’ve arranged your flight for tomorrow night,” Sarah announced while I was packing up my things. I still couldn’t believe I was going through with this.
“That’s too soon. I need to see him. He might not come home tonight and I can’t leave without saying goodbye.”
“Emily… maybe it’s best if you don’t see him.”
“No,” I said resolutely. “I have to see him, Sarah.” I wouldn’t be persuaded otherwise. I would not take the cowards way out and leave without an explanation.
“Well I can always reschedule the flight if he doesn’t show before lunch tomorrow. You’ll need to leave for the airport not long after.”
“Won’t that cost extra money?” I argued, feeling guilty enough that she was already paying for my ticket.
“Don’t concern yourself with that, honey. I need you to do whatever is best for you, okay?”
“Thank you, Sarah. For everything.”
**********
It was noon on the day of my flight back to the UK and I hadn’t seen Dexter since the incident in the bathroom. I had an hour before my taxi was due to arrive and if Dexter didn’t come home before then, I would have to rearrange my plans. I decided I wouldn’t text anyone back home until I knew for sure what was happening. I also hadn’t decided who exactly I was going to contact.
I know it should be Rachel – she’s my best friend and has supported me through everything. But I’m just not sure if I can face London again yet. The ground floor flat Rachel and I share is so near to Dexter’s apartment. I would
have to walk or drive past it every day to get to university or even Tesco. Plus, when I think about our couch, the bar stools in our kitchen, the sheets on my bed… Dexter is there – on all of them.
No. I can’t face seeing those things without him. So yes, I know it’s selfish and gutless, but I will text Chris from the airport.
“He’s here, Emily,” Sarah said dolefully, peering her head around the kitchen door while I was making up some sandwiches for my journey. Immediately I turned to follow her into the living room but she put one hand on my shoulder, the heavy bangles she always wore jangling against her wrist as she did, and stopped me. “Don’t expect a rational conversation with him. He’s completely out of it.”
Forcing the obtrusive lumps of guilt and nerves down my throat, I nodded weakly.
It seemed Dexter had come straight home and collapsed onto the couch. He was unrecognisable. He hadn’t shaved in days, his hair was ruffled far beyond the point of intentional style and his face was thinning to the point of being almost gaunt. The edges of his nose were red and bordering on painful looking and his eyes… they were empty. Lifeless. He glanced up at me briefly, his expression vacant – void of all emotion. Then he rolled onto his side and fell instantaneously to sleep.
“It’ll wear off soon,” Sarah said, noticing my concern. I couldn’t exactly talk to him in this state and I was still adamant I wouldn’t leave without doing so. “Give him half an hour to sleep the latest hit off and you stand a chance of getting some sense out of him.” Nodding, I reluctantly turned back to the kitchen to finish making up my sandwiches.