Distinction: The Distraction Trilogy #3

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Distinction: The Distraction Trilogy #3 Page 26

by Murphy, A. E.

“Is that why you went to rehab?”

  His laughter is cold, unfeeling. “Yes. They helped me get in shape, taught me about nutrition, portion sizes and exercise.”

  “That’s good…”

  “Best time of my life. Only place I felt safe. The kids there weren’t mean or nasty; they were just as tortured as I had been.”

  Everything begins to snap into place like a puzzle and my eyes grow wide with realisation. “You burned your pictures?” Why does this all seem so familiar? Almost like I’ve been told this before?

  No… but I’ve definitely read this before.

  Holy fuck.

  “I was embarrassed to be seen like that. I wanted a clean slate. My mum home-schooled me for the next year and then I went to college in Louth before leaving for Boston University.”

  Blowing out a breath, I sit on the couch. “It’s all so…”

  “So stupid?”

  “No, so clear. It’s all so clear now. The reason you hate this town, the reason you never visited your parents…”

  “I blamed them for the way I was. I know now that I was wrong, but I couldn’t help feeling the way I did.”

  I pat the seat next to me and wait for him to take it. He does and I rest my temple against his shoulder, wanting to offer some kind of comfort. Or maybe I need to receive it, I’m not sure at this point. “I’m sorry you had a shit childhood.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

  “You have to stop fat shaming though. Big is beautiful; skinny is beautiful; chunky is fucking beautiful. It doesn’t matter what shape you are, as long as you’re healthy, happy and as free as can be. That’s what matters.”

  “How is it that you’re twelve years younger than me, yet so much wiser?”

  I grin up at him and rub the back of his neck with the tips of my fingers. “Men take longer to mature than women.”

  “Can I kiss you now?” He asks and I’m surprised that he asks. Normally he’d just do it.

  My stomach clenches in the best way but I can’t allow it, not now. The timing is wrong.

  “No.” Standing, I stretch, yawn and look out of the window to the dark and empty street. “I leave for Scotland in two weeks.”

  “So?”

  “I’m not repeating old mistakes.”

  “I’m a mistake?” He snaps and I realise I’ve said the wrong thing. I didn’t mean it like that.

  “You know you’re not.” I’m tired… I can’t think. “I should go.”

  “But I just told you everything you wanted to know.” His fingers pinch into my bicep when he grips my arm.

  My guilt is consuming but I have to walk away. “It’s not good timing, Isaac. I can’t be your distraction from the real issues right now.”

  “You’re serious aren’t you?” My arm cools as he releases me. “You’re not going to stay?” The light comes on as he reaches around me. “I don’t have a chance do I?”

  “It’s more complicated than that.”

  His blue eyes scan me from head to toe. “You said that you left Silas for me.”

  “Slip of the tongue… maybe on a subconscious level you were part of the reason. I still have feelings for you. I can’t continue something with him while I’m still pining over my ex. That’s unfair.” A dull throb begins to pulse at the front of my head. “I’m going to go. We can talk more tomorrow, or when you’ve adjusted.”

  “Don’t treat me like a child.” He turns to face the window and stares out into the dark street. I watch and wait as he closes the curtains and turns back to me. “Why can’t you just take a chance?”

  “It’s not about taking a chance.” I’m getting frustrated now. “It’s about timing. I can’t come back to you, not now. Not until we’re all in a better place.”

  His chest rises and falls as he stares at me, a blank mask in place. “Just go.”

  “My intention isn’t to hurt you,” I breathe, hating that even though he shows no emotion, I know that I’m causing him pain. “I love you.”

  “Not enough though, right?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “It always fucking is.” He walks to the front door and pulls it open, letting in a cool breeze.

  “I’m sorry.” I whisper, grabbing my things from the desk. I step outside and make my way to my car. He watches me the entire time, not closing the door until I’ve driven out of sight. “That went well…”

  Another thought comes to mind, something suddenly seeping in, and I find myself racing home in order to pull out a book I’ve been reading but have yet to finish.

  Holy fuck.

  This is Isaac’s book. It’s his life.

  Now I feel even worse.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Isaac

  Isaac: I know you leave for Scotland in two days. Are you going to say goodbye?

  “You should always be humble, no matter if you’re better at doing something than somebody else. Teach them; don’t tease them. It’s much more rewarding.”

  My mum said this to me often in the year she home-schooled me. It might be the exact reason why I wanted to become a teacher in the first place. I wanted to inflict change. I wanted to douse the flame of bullies and get to know every single student. Even though I had a shit time growing up, I wasn’t bullied by everyone. There were more people in school tortured than there were bullies. I became a teacher to get to the root of it. I wanted to find out why the bullies were bullying and be a trusted friend to the bullied.

  I wanted to teach my students in a way that they’d remember for years to come.

  I lost my way. I lost my reasoning. I fell in love.

  Would she be ashamed of me?

  “I got a B in Maths,” I told her, staring at the paper that held the results to my A levels. “I’m not going to Cambridge.”

  “You did amazingly. Look at your grades.”

  “But I didn’t get into Cambridge,” I snapped, screwing the piece of paper up and throwing it at the bin. “I didn’t get in.”

  “Honey…” She reached for me but I pushed her hand away. I was so close to crying. I hated how close I was to crying. “I’m proud of you, no matter what.”

  “Pride isn’t going to get me into Cambridge.”

  “Son,” my dad said softly. They both knew how hard I worked.

  I was so obsessed with the thought of Cambridge. I’d been on tours, met my professors, made friends online. I was so certain that was where I’d be going. I was foolish and I was severely disappointed when it didn’t go my way, but in the end I still became a teacher, a good one. I was able to return to my family in their time of need. I became a good man.

  Now I just need to prove that to myself and to Elle.

  Isaac: You’ve been ignoring me for almost two weeks now. For fuck sake, Elle… Give me a straight answer. You have yet to give me a straight fucking answer.

  We haven’t spoken in a while. I haven’t spoken to anyone in a while apart from my dad, who is doing a lot better than I am emotionally and mentally, though I do feel like I’m in a better place than I was.

  He actually had a shower this week and went bowling with friends that are finally reconnecting with him after all of these years. I think he made them feel guilty at the funeral.

  Sigh…

  I know that I’m probably being petulant and desperate but I have a bad feeling. Something is gnawing in my gut; something isn’t right. My phone lights up with a text and I’m disappointed that it isn’t from Elle. It still piques my interest, but only slightly.

  Darren: I need to talk to you. Call me.

  The next message definitely piques my interest.

  Darren: Please.

  “Isaac,” he says after it rings twice.

  “Darren.”

  “Did you know that Elle is selling the inn?”

  I sit up, alert at this news. “What?”

  “I take it that you didn’t know.”

  “All I know is that Silas dropped out. Elle and I aren’t exactly
speaking right now.”

  Darren sighs. “Just like her mother. Stubborn as a mule.”

  “She not talking to you either?” I should feel happy about that but I feel nothing. I haven’t felt anything for a while now.

  “No.” The phone rattles as he paces and I can hear his footsteps hitting the ground. “I called for a reason though… and if Elle, if she finds out…” He blows out a weary breath that has me instantly alert. “She’s in way over her head.”

  “With the inn?”

  “With everything and I know the guy who is buying Silas’ forty percent. He will push her out.”

  This makes me angry. Elle has put all of her time, money and effort into this inn. “What do you suggest?”

  “I want to give Elle the money to buy it from Silas, but she won’t accept.”

  “You’ve offered?”

  He laughs. “Am I stupid? Of course I haven’t. She’d say no without even considering it.”

  “So what do you need me to do?”

  “I need you to give her the money…”

  What the fuck? “What makes you think she’ll take it from me? She’s not even answering my calls right now.”

  “If you tell her you remortgaged the house, she might accept it as her half.”

  “But you said that somebody else is buying it? How can she buy it if they’re buying it?”

  He sighs deeply. “She owns the highest percentage. In their contract she gets first refusal. Silas has done this because he knows there’s no way she can afford to buy him out.”

  “Are you sure Elle even wants this?”

  “Of course I’m sure…”

  “Then I’ll remortgage the house.” I run my hand through my hair.

  “I’m offering the money…”

  “You don’t need to. I’ll remortgage the house and give it to her.” Against my better judgement and against my loathing for this man, I add, “After she accepts, I’ll tell her what you planned to do for her. Maybe she won’t hate you forever.”

  He falls silent for a long moment. “I don’t know whether to trust you or not.”

  “Right back at you. Send me the details, the amount and whatever else. Okay?”

  “Fine.”

  I hang up and pinch the bridge of my nose right before I call my bank and set up an appointment. The things we do for love.

  “Who was that?” My dad asks after I hang up the phone to the bank. “Why do you need to see a mortgage adviser?”

  “I want to remortgage the house.”

  His eyebrows hit his hairline. “Why?”

  “Because I want to give Elle the money to by the inn outright.”

  His lips part. “Oh.”

  “You disagree?”

  “I don’t understand why you two aren’t back together.”

  I shrug and run my tongue over my lower lip. “She’s scared.”

  “So make her not scared.”

  My eyes roll heavenward. “How? You don’t think I’ve tried?”

  “Nope. I think you’ve insulted her, slept with her and told her a bunch of pretty things that she doesn’t even believe.”

  His words sink in. “I don’t have the emotional capacity to fight for her right now. I’m too…”

  “Upset?”

  “No.” I wish I were upset. “I’m too fucking numb.”

  “You haven’t cried; you haven’t grieved yet. Have you?” His eyes are round with sympathy and his hand lands on my shoulder. “It’s okay to lose control for a while.”

  “I feel guilty, Dad.” My voice cracks, though I try to keep it level. “I can’t get her out of my head.”

  “Elle?”

  “Mum.”

  My dad takes the seat beside me. “Talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong.”

  “You’ll hate me.”

  The hand on my shoulder squeezes before releasing. “I will never hate you.”

  Well, seeing as I’ve already had so many revelations lately, I may as well admit another. “I was relieved.”

  “Come again?”

  “When I saw mum dead… I felt fucking relief.”

  My dad stills and rubs his eyes with the palms of his hands as I rest forward on my knees. Both of us must paint such a morbid picture. Our grief swirls around us in thick waves. The atmosphere is thick and unwavering.

  “I did too.” I hardly catch this. If I weren’t sitting so close to him, I wouldn’t have heard it at all. “I felt like she was finally at peace.”

  “Do you think she’ll hate us for it?”

  “No.” His smile shines bright, even though tears fill his eyes. “I think she’s hate us if we tortured ourselves over it. She hasn’t been here for such a long time. We got to say goodbye. So many people don’t get that chance.”

  “I missed her last moments.” A lump rises in my throat as I recall walking in to see her already dead body. “I fucking missed them.”

  “No you didn’t. You were right there with her at the end - the last time she recalled a piece of herself three and a half years ago, when she looked at you and put her hand on yours. That was her last moment.”

  A choked sob climbs its way up my throat as I recall that day. I’d almost forgotten. She’d been mumbling to herself and throwing things around. Her tantrum had been bad that morning and even the staff were struggling to cope with her.

  I gave up trying to distract her, trying to restrain her, and I sat down, annoyed at my inability to control the situation. That’s when she sat down beside me. She leaned forward and caught my eyes with hers, her hand settling over mine, and for a brief moment, just a fleeting second, I saw my mum in the depths of those beautiful eyes.

  Tears spill from my eyes, slow, heavy tears that I’ve long been ready to cry, and with them come all of the emotions I’ve suppressed for two weeks.

  My dad places his hand on my back as I bow my head and rub the moisture from my cheeks. “It’s okay to cry. It doesn’t make you weak.”

  “I miss her.”

  “Me too.”

  We fall into silence and let the tension in the room melt away with our grief. It will always be there, I’ll never stop loving or missing my mum, but I’m not going to keep using her death as an excuse to push away my own life.

  “You need to go back to Boston and reclaim your job before they fire you.”

  I nod; he’s right. “We both need to start living again.”

  “That we do.”

  Eloise

  Isaac: You’ve been ignoring me for almost two weeks now. For fuck sake, Elle… Give me a straight answer. You have yet to give me a straight fucking answer.

  I stare at the phone as my hand trembles, making the text appear blurred.

  “It’s positive,” Hayley says and I launch my phone across the room. It shatters on the wall sending tiny shards of glass in all directions.

  “Of course it is,” I spit, bitterly.

  “Elle…” she throws the test in the bin by the door after registering the fact that not only is she holding something I’ve peed on but I don’t much relish the thought. “I’m sorry. I know this isn’t what you wanted.”

  “I’m just starting an apprenticeship! I’m just getting my life together.”

  This has come too soon. I’ve been careful. I’m always careful. I just had my coil replaced! Did it fall out? How did I not feel it fall out? I recall the painful cramps that I got after it was swapped and feel nauseous. I was in too much pain to notice probably.

  “Are you going to tell Silas?” She asks quietly and sits beside me. “Maybe he’ll stop with the…”

  “He’s not the donor,” I say quietly and think back to that crazy, wild, passionate few minutes in the kitchen.

  Hayley squeezes my hand, her surprise evident. “Then who?” I give her a telling look. “Isaac?” She’s on her feet, her mouth hanging open, her eyes wide. “You’ve slept with Isaac and you didn’t tell me?”

  My lips thin. “Today is the first time I’m seeing you since you
r wedding!”

  “Right… but you know… really? Isaac? Are you two getting back together?”

  “No!” I cry, feeling my heart begin to race as I try to assess what the fuck is going on. “No. I’m better off single.”

  “And the baby?”

  “It’s not a baby, Hayley. It’s a group of cells. At the moment it isn’t even that. I can’t be more than eleven days along.” I’m only late on my period by two days.

  “You’re terminating…” She says, her voice neutral.

  “I don’t want a baby. I don’t want kids, especially not now.”

  Hayley sighs deeply. “Do you want me to make the appointment?”

  I shake my head and close my eyes for a moment so I can compartmentalise everything I’m trying not to feel. “I don’t want this. I didn’t ask for this. The fucking coil is supposed to prevent this!”

  “Maybe it fell out? When was the last time you checked to see if it was there or not?” She takes note of my wince and clucks her tongue.

  “I was just thinking the same thing. I had it replaced after my last period.” I rub my eyes with my hands. “It must have fallen out. What are the fucking chances?”

  “Well, shit.”

  “It’ll be all of the manual labour I’ve been doing lately, probably dislodged the fucker. Or the doctor didn’t insert it right.” I don’t want to blame the medical professionals but I’m so fucking disoriented by all of this.

  “Whatever it is, it’s too late to fix now.”

  “I can’t believe this is happening to me.”

  “I think… I think you should tell Isaac.”

  Is she crazy? “Not a chance. I made my decision with regard to Isaac and I’ve made my decision with regard to this pregnancy. Knowing will only hurt him unnecessarily. This is my burden to bear.”

  “And mine,” she mutters and now I wish I hadn’t come to her.

  “You promised me you wouldn’t judge me.”

  “That was before I realised what a bitch you’d become,” she snaps, startling me. “He deserves to know. This is the twenty first century. How would you feel if he kept something so huge from you?”

 

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