by Ann Grech
“Huh? Ruse? What’re you goin’ on about?”
“You didn’t even feel me stop touching you, did you?” she spat. “You were so damn wrapped up in your fantasy that you didn’t feel me let go and get up. You yelled out Levi and Katy’s names for fuck’s sake.” Her voice shook with anger as she glared at him, disgusted. “You wanna fuck both of them. You can’t even make up your mind on who you want. I won’t be the girl you’re with for show while you’re lookin’ to fuck more than one person on the side, especially not my friends. Get outta my house.”
Stunned, he sat on the couch, his mind furiously ticking over everything that had just happened. What the fuck? He’d heard their names. No, he’d said their names. Confusion and shame welled up inside him like a lead balloon. Seeing her shaking with fury, her face red, eyes sparking with anger, made Connor’s gut flip sickeningly. “Fuck,” he cursed, shaking his head in self-disgust. He hadn’t meant to hurt her. Why the fuck did I start something with her when I knew I was so fucked up inside? He scrubbed a hand over his hair.
“Miranda, I’m sorry. I... I’m so sorry,” Connor said quietly. He picked up his clothes and turned to her, ready to apologize again. He didn’t want her to change her mind—he didn’t deserve that. But he did want to try to set things right, to tell her he was an arse.
“Don’t, Connor. Just go.” She sounded tired, resigned. He nodded and, head hung low, walked out. Palming his keys, he considered driving home, but he promised Levi he wouldn’t go back there until the morning. There was no way he would risk walking in on them testing out what they’d bought. No fucking way would he be able to hold himself back.
Driving, he pulled into a car park at the beach. He hadn’t had a destination in mind while he drove; he just found himself there. Just north of Surfers Paradise it was quiet. The place drew him in, helped him think, helped him make sense of the mess his heart had become. He looked out over the glass-like surface shimmering in the light of the three-quarter moon. Connor sat down on the sand, his arms wrapped around his legs. One thing was obvious to him—he didn’t have a crush on his best friends; it was a whole lot more than that. So what were his options? Did he try to ignore it, keep living with them like the third wheel he was? It’d destroy any chance of him ever finding happiness. There was no way he could let himself become intimate with another person after treating Miranda so badly. And where would that leave him? He was resigning himself to becoming a cat lady if he pulled away from everyone. He could move out, get his own place, and put some distance between them. But even that would only work until he saw them again, until the craving reignited within him, leaving him shaking and desperate for a fix. Like a damn addict, he’d keep going back for more until he was a shell of himself. He deserved better than that—he’d done his time in hell, and he wasn’t going to live it again if he could help it. If he left, started afresh, could he be happy? Could he walk away, once again leaving the two people who meant the world to him?
Connor squinted, pulling down his shades to block the sun’s morning rays as his limited options rolled through his mind on an endless loop. The warmth of the dawn sun hit his skin and Connor stretched his aching muscles. He’d been there for hours, mesmerized by the lapping water, working through the thoughts bouncing around in his head and warring with his heart. He still didn’t know what to do, and the uncertainty was like an anvil on his shoulders.
Connor went back to his car to get his sneakers from his gym bag and change into a pair of shorts. Setting out, he jogged along the boardwalk, dodging the early morning crowd of people. Dog walkers, surfers carrying boards and personal trainers working out with their clients dotted the paths. But Connor ignored the lot, trying to get some clarity.
He was lost in his own world until, “Yo, Con, wait up,” broke through into his thoughts. He recognized that voice. Spinning around, he saw Katy’s cousin Nick, and his best mate, Mike, catching up to him.
“Hey, guys. How’s it hangin’?”
“Good, mate, you?” Nick answered.
“Fuckin’ dandy.” Connor scowled, kicking himself for being a dick.
Nick huffed out a laugh. “Wanna talk about it?”
“Nope.” He didn’t mean to sound so churlish, but the last thing he wanted to do was pour his heart out to Nick and a man he’d only met for the first time at Levi’s birthday the week before.
“Good. We can pick up the pace then,” Mike replied, saving him from deflecting the conversation any more. They ran together, feet pounding the path. On their left was the ocean, the morning swell picking up, the waves glittering in the bright sunlight. Surfers rode them into shore, carving and cutting along them. Dogs and their owners ran along the shoreline. On the right were the towers—hotels and apartments, office buildings—and older beach huts, the surf club and oceanfront mansions.
Clear blue skies and a warm breeze should have made for a beautiful run—flawless like the day was—but Connor blocked it all out. Seeing the happy people around him, living and loving life made the knife in his chest plunge deeper. Why had he gone and let his heart run away with him? Why couldn’t he love someone like Miranda? Someone uncomplicated? Available even? But no, as if it wasn’t bad enough that he was in love with one person already in a relationship, he’d gone and fallen for two. And better yet, they were together, and talk about perfect for each other. This was why he’d left in the first place, why he’d run. It’d held off the yearning for the woman he couldn’t have but had never obliterated the desire. Coming home was a bad idea. He’d known it, but like a blind fool, he’d tried to fulfil Rob’s dying wish.
Connor picked up the pace, pushing himself and trying to outrun the pain until sweat soaked his skin. Kilometres passed under the steady beat of his running shoes, his two silent companions matching him step for step until finally, he couldn’t run anymore. Out of breath and desperate for water, Connor followed Mike and Nick into the beachside park, collapsing against a tall palm, the smooth bark pressing against his back. Exhaustion coursed through him, the lactic acid in his muscles making his limbs unbearably heavy.
“Fuck me, haven’t done a workout like that since I’ve been home.” Sweat dripped off his brow as he bent over, resting his hands on his knees, trying to drag air into his lungs. “Burns like a mother.”
Nick stretched his legs, leaning against the same palm Connor was. “What are you running from, mate?” he gasped.
“Fuck,” Connor groaned, frustrated.
“You can talk to me, to us, if you need to, bud. We’ll always listen.”
Connor huffed out a humourless laugh. “Yeah, you guys’ll be so understanding of my fucked up life.”
Mike’s eyes flashed with annoyance. “Don’t be a prick or so fuckin’ judgemental of us.”
“That’s the fucking problem though isn’t it—the judgement.” Connor threw his hands up in the air and paced. “Knowing that the one thing I want is wrong. Goddammit,” he shouted, kicking at a stone and sending it flying. Hands in his hair, he tugged on the curls that’d grown since he’d returned home. “I can’t handle it anymore. I just can’t do it.”
“What can’t you do, Con?” Nick asked gently.
“No, it’s what I’m gonna do. I’ve gotta leave the Coast, and not come back. Cut all contact, maybe.” He shook his head. There was no way he’d do that. He couldn’t even if he wanted to—Katy would never stand for it. “I can’t see any other way to move on. I can’t get ‘em outta my head, ya know?”
“Don’t do anything rash, Con. Can you open up more to Katy and Lee? Maybe work through whatever it is you’re dealing with, with them?” When Connor shook his head, his shoulders sagging, Nick continued, “Get away if you need to but don’t just leave. You three have been friends forever. It’ll break their hearts if you walk,” Nick counselled him.
“I know, but I can’t….” He trailed off, raking his fingers through his hair and wiping the sweat from his brow.
“Look, I know we don’t really know each
other, but maybe that’s what you need—someone independent, detached. Come hang at my place for a while,” Mike offered.
“Nah, mate. I don’t wanna get in your way.” Connor shook his head and pressed his lips into a sad smile. “Didn’t you say last weekend that your girl was flying in today? I’m not gonna let her come all the way across the damn country and have me sittin’ there like an idiot while you want some alone time. And don’t you have kids? They’ll probably be there too. Nah, you don’t want me around. I’ll just check into a cheap hotel somewhere.”
Nick rested his hand on Connor’s shoulder and squeezed gently, getting his attention. The other man had this way about him which commanded attention. Connor shouldn’t have been surprised—Nick was a lawyer and a damn good one at that. He exuded confidence without being arrogant, strength without being overbearing. “Come to my place. It’s big enough. You won’t even know we’re there most of the time and you can spend as long as you need to figure things out. There’s no way I’m letting you stay in a hotel when we live down the beach from them. And you aren’t gonna make the decision to leave your friends, your home while you’re alone. I’ll give you my spare key when we get back to the cars.” A good ten kilometres away. Connor groaned and scrubbed a hand across his forehead.
“Are you sure? I don’t wanna put you out, but I could do with somewhere to hide out and think for a few days. Get my head on right.”
“You won’t be in the way, and Em would love to have you too.” Nick smiled at him encouragingly.
“It would be kinda nice having someone independent to talk to. But don’t worry, I won’t get in the way and like I said, it’ll only be for a few days.” Connor sighed, looking out over the ocean he loved. It was the first time he’d ever been sad seeing it. “Just until I figure out where to move to.”
“That’s our Uber.” Mike pointed to the bright green hatch pulling up at the curb driven by the cute blonde. “How about we head on back to the cars and you two can work out the deets?”
Connor smiled gratefully at his friend, before falling into step between them.
*****
Four days. Four days had passed since he’d seen Katy and Levi. He was like a recovering addict counting the number of day’s he’d been clean. It was probably as torturous too. Between the two of them, the messages had been constant. He’d deflected most of them, answering with just enough detail that they wouldn’t worry, but at the same time letting them assume he was still at Miranda’s house. It was the coward’s way out, but he didn’t think he’d be able to explain why he couldn’t see them anymore.
Now, sitting in his therapist’s office, he showed her Levi’s last message. We’re glad ur happy with M. Guess ur living there now. The first time he’d read it, he’d sucked in a breath and swallowed around the lump in his throat. Seeing it again didn’t make it any easier. The pain in his chest still so fucking raw. The text was innocent, yet filled with assumptions that were entirely wrong. The misunderstanding didn’t surprise him, but now they thought he’d moved out. Are they happy I’m not there anymore? That they’ve got their lives back, without me in it? The thought broke him. Loneliness as vast as the Sahara Desert swallowed him whole and sucked the life out of him. He’d been staying with friends, and had gone to group sessions every day, but he was so alone. He couldn’t shake the dark storm cloud that hung over him. He was barely eating, he drank far too much and was lethargic.
“Is M for Miranda? You didn’t tell me that you two were serious.”
“We aren’t anything.”
“Why not?” she asked, sitting back in the armchair and crossing her legs. She was laid back and he liked that about her, but she had a sharp mind like a steel trap. She didn’t forget anything; it was unnerving at times. “Last time you spoke about her, you were going to see where things led.” Yeah, he’d told her that. At the time he was trying to persuade himself it was the right thing to do.
“Because I fucked up. I called out another person’s name when she was giving me a blow job. Didn’t even know I’d done it until she yelled at me.”
“When we’re at our most vulnerable, our most raw, sometimes our true selves come out. I know you were struggling with whether you were into her. Maybe your subconscious answered the question for you?” Pausing, she added, “What prompted Levi’s message? You live with them.”
“I called out their names,” he whispered. “I haven’t been able to face them. I haven’t gone home since it happened.” Connor sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face.
“Where are you staying?”
“With Katy’s cousin and his wife.”
“That’s a lot of upheaval and stress. Have you had any more episodes?”
“Yeah,” he nodded. “At the garage. One of the boys knocked a toolbox off the bench. The noise set me off.”
She sat quietly and assessed him in the way she did sometimes, waiting to see if he’d fill in any more of the details, but he couldn’t. The flashback he’d had was a bad one. It’d freaked out most of the guys, but Kevin’s father was a Vietnam vet. He’d seen his fair share of episodes, so he’d known what to do. “Connor, you need your family. And Katy and Levi, they’re it for you.”
“No,” he rasped, shaking his head. What was he doing? He couldn’t live like this anymore. He couldn’t stay so close, yet so far. The yearning to see them, to be with them—and not even sexually, although that was definitely part of it—was slowly killing him. Every day he stayed at Nick and Emma’s was a day he was delaying the inevitable. But he was living with a dead dream and clutching its rotting corpse, unwilling to let it go so he could live. And wasn’t that the promise he’d made to Rob? To himself when he’d been discharged from that shithole he’d been stationed in for far too long?
Tears sprang to his eyes, and the remaining pieces of his heart crumbled into dust. Clutching his chest, Connor curled up on the couch and sobbed. He was mourning for himself, the lifetime friendship he’d once had, that was now destined to end if he wanted to survive into the future, even crying a little for the hope that he’d be able to have a normal relationship with someone like Miranda. He’d managed to fuck that up spectacularly. Connor hated being alone, but that’s how it looked like his future would pan out. The vast void stretched beyond him, bleakness wrapping its tendrils around his heart. The screen on his phone blurred more as the tears ran down his cheeks and his chest heaved with sobs.
Leslie, his counsellor, moved to sit next to him, rubbing his back with warm hands. He turned away from her, not able to face her anymore. “Shh, it’s okay.” she murmured, over and over.
Tears fell down his cheeks as he rested his head against the scratchy material of the deep blue couch. He had nothing left, physically or mentally. Exhaustion overwhelmed him. Nightmares had plagued the nocturnal hours, but now they’d morphed into some sick and twisted mind-fuck. It wasn’t just Rob who he was reliving losing in that desert, it wasn’t just his bloodied body he cradled as the life left him, but Lee and Katy too. Watching their eyes dull and them take their last breath had him jolting awake, drenched in sweat and shaking so hard he had trouble unscrewing the cap off a bottle of water.
“I have to go.” Connor tried to sit up, but after not having eaten for two days, his body didn’t even have the strength to do that.
“Your attacks, and I’m guessing your nightmares, are getting worse because of the stress you’re putting yourself under. Talk to me. Let me help you get through this.”
Connor wrenched himself off the couch. Standing on shaky legs and lightheaded, he threw his hands up in the air. He didn’t shout, but it wasn’t far off. “You wanna know what’s wrong? Fine. I’m in love with them, okay? Both of them. And they don’t feel anything like what I do. It’s killing me watching them, but I can’t help it. I can’t stop loving them. And I can’t watch it anymore. Every time I see them, it’s like my guts are being carved out with a rusty fucking blade, and I’m slowly bleeding out on the floor.”
“Have you talked to them about it?”
His laugh held no humour. “Yeah, because I can tell my best mate and his girl that I wanna be between them when they fuck. That’s gonna go down real well.” It was torturing him, but the only way he could think to fix the mess he’d got himself in, was to extract himself entirely. Airlift himself out of the quagmire that his life had become and start afresh in a place where no one knew him, where he could carve out a future for himself away from the two people who meant the most, but who he could never keep. The thing was, they’d never been his to begin with.
Katy
Cold. So, so cold. A shudder wracked her body, rattling her bones. Her muscles seized and Katy groaned. When had she been hit by a freight train? Pain radiated from her very pores and the hacking cough she was suffering from only made things worse. Like a kick to the ribs every time her lungs spasmed, she sounded like a sixty-year smoking veteran. Katy tried to lift her head from her makeshift bed on the couch, needing another blanket from the hall cupboard, but fell back instantly. The daggers shooting through her temples made her vision swim.
The TV was on, but she just wanted quiet. She did her best to keep her head still when she looked around for the remote, but it was a few feet away on the coffee table. Without getting up, she had no hope of reaching it. Whatever exercise equipment they were advertising was just noise, and it hurt her head even more listening to it. Katy bit back tears, slowly lifting a heavy hand to wipe the errant ones that had slipped free. It matched the ones she’d shed since Con disappeared, leaving them as soon as he’d jumped into bed with Miranda.
She hadn’t been well for a few days, but that morning it was far worse. She was only at the shop for twenty minutes when Dylan had insisted she go home. The throb of her four-day headache had turned blinding, the bright sunlight outside her shop acting like a lance to her eyes, spearing right through her. Katy had barely made it home, staggering in the door. She should have fallen into bed, but instead, she’d gone over to the couch, shoved the half-folded clothes out of the way and laid down, watching TV instead of sleeping like she should have.