Kevin walked on stage in a pair of dark jeans and a white button-down shirt, the sleeves rolled to his elbows. How I heard his voice over the screaming crowds—now at a fevered pitch—is beyond me but I did. His voice swirled around me and danced with the anxiety bubbling in my belly. He walked over to Hayley, faced her, and without preamble he sang his lines in a voice that was a caress. She turned to face him and joined in. The words were about getting closer, being one, being more and his eyes swept from her face to her toes; drinking in every inch of her. I watched as he reached for her and pulled her into him, chest to chest, hips to hips. So close, not even a whisper could get between them.
I fought to swallow but it was impossible, my mouth was so dry. Her hand reached for the back of his head, pulling him closer still as they sang into each other’s necks. I couldn’t breathe, I felt like a voyeur in a far too intimate moment and my stomach clenched.
Hayley pulled back and circled Kevin. His eyes tracked her every move as she walked to the opposite side of the stage. They sang the bridge in harmony as they moved their way back to each other, unable to fight the force of attraction. Hayley shot him a look so intimate, a smile so seductive, I felt my stomach bottom out. She turned to face the crowd and continued singing as Kevin moved in behind her. I willed my eyes away from the scene in front of me, yet I couldn’t seem to tear them away.
Hayley bit her lip as he sang words to her of how she was more while he lifted her arm to rest at the back of his neck. Her top rose a smidge higher, playing peek-a-boo with her exposed flesh.
The song came to an end and the crowd around me erupted but for me the world froze. Hayley turned around and Kevin’s hands went to her waist and he dipped his head and kissed her. I looked away then but it didn’t help any, their faces were emblazoned on big screens all around the arena. The kiss ended and she smiled at him, her hand rested on his chest then turned to the crowd.
“Kevin Peyton everyone.”
This was no different to any other performance he’d ever carried out. It was no different than what he’d done on screen with Tammy, except that instead of just a movie role, it was something they were doing to solidify their relationship to the world. I knew it was an act but seeing them together like that, the crushing weight of everything hit me at once and I needed to escape.
Shoving your way through a crowd at a rock concert is not as easy as it looks on TV. People kept shoving me back as if I was trying to get to the front of the stage when all I wanted to do was get the hell out of there. Muttering apologies, I persistently nudged my way through the indignant fans until I broke out of the VIP section. Spotting the exit, I rushed forward. I could almost breathe again when I saw the dark night through the glass doors of the building and I rushed forward. A hand clasped around my bicep and I turned in surprise.
Goddammit.
“Hey, where are you going?” Kevin’s concerned eyes locked on mine and I exhaled a breath.
“Nowhere…Outside…It’s too crowded in here.”
His hand found mine and he intertwined our fingers and tugged me gently. “Come this way, its way better backstage and you can say hi to Hayley. She was looking forward to chatting to you.” I looked down at the way our hands fit perfectly together and then up at his eyes, bright with excitement. Adrenaline pulsed off him in waves as he rode the high from performing. I needed to get out of there before I said something to ruin his night.
“No, really. I’m tired.” I looked down at myself. “And sweaty from all the dancing.” I shot him what I hoped was a convincing smile.
He didn’t buy it. “Come with me.”
I tugged on my hand but he held tight. He walked to a door at the end of the hallway and finding it open, pulled me inside and shut the door. The room was as dark as the stage had been just a while ago and I blinked when he turned on the light, momentarily blinding me.
Walking to the couch, he sat and pulled me down next to him. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
I did not want to get into this tonight—ever if I could help it but especially not tonight and especially not here.
“Kev, I’m really exhausted. It’s been a hectic couple of days. Can we do this some other time?”
His thumb brushed over mine as he held my hand in both of his. “Not until you tell me what’s wrong. Or at least that it doesn’t have anything to do with what happened last night. You’ve been avoiding me, Claire.”
He had me there. I’d made up an excuse of wanting to get my hair done before the concert to avoid driving over here with him and when he’d messaged me to meet him backstage before the concert, I’d declined; telling him I preferred to be watching him from the crowd. That in itself was likely a dead giveaway since I hated crowds.
I chewed on my thumbnail while I tried to think of where to start, wishing for all the world that I’d had more time to think before having to deal with this.
“Can I use my safeword?” I attempted to lighten the moment despite the ball of nerves forming in my stomach.
He didn’t crack a smile and I watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. “You’re making me nervous here, Claire.”
I squeezed his hand “I’m sorry, I’m not trying to. I just don’t know where to start.”
He brought my hand up to his lips and gently kissed my sweating palm. “Start anywhere, just please tell me what’s going on.”
He didn’t lower my hand, just kept it pressed to his lips as I sat awkwardly with my arm extended and struggling to swallow. My fingers started trembling and he moved them to his lap and looked down at them, then up at me again with concern.
“Claire?”
I stood. I needed to move, to walk, to do anything but watch the worry in his eyes and know what I was about to say next was not going to make him feel any better. I never predicted Kevin and I would be having this conversation, but I imagined I’d be able to look him in the face when we did. However, I couldn’t. I turned and stared at the red pinboard pinned with business cards and pamphlets.
“I’m in love with you. I want us to be together in every sense of the word. I want to be yours.”
He never made a sound.
The room was so quiet the residual zinging in my ears from the loud concert was the only thing I could hear, but after a while I couldn’t take it anymore and I turned around. My breath caught in my throat. He had his head in his hands and was slowly shaking it in denial. Tears stung my eyes and eventually slipped down my cheeks and still he didn’t say a word. Didn’t look at me. I wanted to stay frozen to the spot but my feet betrayed me and I walked towards him.
“Kevin?”
He didn’t say anything, just sat there unmoving.
“Can you say something, please?”
He raised his head slowly and I saw his own eyes glistening as he expelled a breath. He stood and pulled me to him, and something about the way he held me made my stomach twist even more. He kissed the top of my head for long moments as I silently cried.
“I can’t be what you need, Claire. I just can’t do it. I’m so sorry.”
Everything in me went cold and I moved out of his arms, wrapping my own around my body and holding myself in. He reached for me but I shook my head and took a step back. “Don’t.” I watched the pain flash across his face but couldn’t dwell on that for more than a second or two—my chest felt like it was imploding.
He ran his hands through his hair and the regret I saw in his eyes told me what I’d been expecting to hear but it didn’t hurt any less.
“Please let me hold you.”
I shook my head as more silent tears fell but he crossed to me anyway and pulled me to him fiercely. “I wish…” He cleared his throat. “I’m so fucking sorry, Claire.”
A hiccupping sob tore free from my throat and his arms held me tighter. He didn’t offer excuses, we both knew going into this where we stood in terms of relationships. Hell, I’d felt exactly the same way until recently. He held me while I cried, his arms both offering comfor
t and administering pain. Kevin was the one person I turned to when I was hurting and he always made it better, except this time he was the reason I was hurting. When I had no tears left, I stood back. His thumbs brushed away the tears.
“We can’t do this anymore.”
“I know.” His voice was hoarse when he answered. “What do we do now?”
My throat tightened with more tears. “I don’t know. I need some space.”
He looked down at the drab brown carpet. “I understand. Take all the time you need.”
I turned to leave.
“Claire.”
“Yeah?”
He took the few steps towards me and cupped my face, he didn’t need words for me to know what he was asking. I knew it was a terrible idea but I nodded my head anyway. His mouth pressed to mine like they had countless times before but this time it was different. Regret and finality punctuated every brush of his lips. I let him kiss me until I felt like I was sinking, drowning in the agony of the inevitable and I couldn’t take it anymore. I pulled back and ran from the room. I heard him calling my name but I didn’t turn around.
What else was there to say?
Chapter Twenty
I’d managed to get all the way back to my hotel, pack, shower and board a plane to South Africa without breaking down but as I wheeled my suitcase into my front entrance, tears that were buried under a veil of detachment broke free and poured down my cheeks. I didn’t do the dramatic slipping to the floor nor did I bury myself face-down on the couch and have a good sob, instead I wheeled my bag to the kitchen and started sorting the clothes that needed laundering.
Of the gamut of emotions I’d gone through over the last forty-eight plus hours, the feeling of complete finality was my undoing. Reality hit me with the force of a wrecking ball to the gut as reminiscences and realisations merged and melded in a cruel slideshow production of what once was and was no longer.
In every movie I’d ever seen, pain was accompanied by a devastating sound. A sound so heart wrenching it tugged from deep within your own core, allowing you to experience the sensation as though it was happening to you. The empathy extracted from the sound so real and vivid you wonder if you’ll ever feel whole again. In reality, grief is silent. Tears ran in rivulets down my cheeks and even my gulps of air made no sound, the pain so intense my body knew it couldn’t possibly express it, so it didn’t bother.
Exhaustion overwhelmed me and still I sorted my clothes into piles of whites, colours, and delicates. Every single item was like an arrow to the heart as memories bombarded me. Eventually, colours blurred as tears welled faster than I could swipe them away and I had to sort by feel alone. A blur of purple caught my eye and my chest clenched painfully as I remembered packing the lingerie; excitement of wondering how Kevin would look at me when he saw me in it not coming close to how he actually made me feel when he slipped the simple black dress over my head.
I dropped the fabric to the floor and walked into the living room, willing myself not to think of how many times we’d snuggled together on the couch to watch a movie or read but failing miserably. It had been just over a month since Kevin had left to go back to the States and I’d fought emotions that I thought were painful and confusing then but held absolutely nothing to how I was feeling now. When he’d left then, I’d missed him and it hurt but I took comfort in the fact that we’d see each other soon, that we’d share many more memories. Now, I knew that no matter what happened, things would never be the same. How could they? If you ripped off a limb and reattached it you’d never feel the same again, you’d never be the same.
I looked around the room, and everything reminded me of him. Everything that I owned had Kevin’s stamp on it. I looked at the painting of the orchids we’d picked out together and the ridiculously large vase that served no purpose and would have been a giant dust collector if I didn’t rinse it twice a week. I looked at the throw pillows and picture frames and antique clock and every other knickknack and saw Kevin in everything. Everything I owned was something either Kevin or I had chosen together or I’d chosen with him in mind, and I realised that I’d unconsciously done this for the very reason Kevin had never settled down and bought his own place in the States. This wasn’t my home. It was our home. And in that moment, I realised Kevin would never come home again.
Regret made the weight of my grief that much heavier as I realised that I caused this, this pain, this ripping agony was my own fault and I reached for my phone only to find the battery dead. I plugged it into the outlet and lay back on the couch, thankful that for once, technology’s inconveniences had saved me from a momentary lapse of willpower. My inadequate willpower was the reason I’d hopped on the first plane home, even if it required me to be in transit for forty-six hours due to two very long layovers. I knew if I stayed I might have reached out to Kevin when the emptiness got too much to bear and that would have been a bigger mistake than confessing my feelings to him.
My phone powered up enough for me to turn it on, and because I’m a sucker for punishment, I flipped to Kevin’s messages. At some point I’d stopped crying, and it was as though dispelling all my tears had left more room for pain. The profile picture I’d allocated for Kevin taunted me from the screen and obviously I pressed on it, enlarging the pic. It was of Kevin and I together. He had his arms around me and I was taking a selfie. Seconds before I’d been about to take the shot, Kevin licked my ear. The result was a pic of me with my eyes screwed shut in disgust and Kevin smiling around his protruding tongue.
I averted my swollen eyes from the pic, torturing myself further by reading over our last messages to each other. I’d made my decision to come home in the cab on the way back to the hotel. As I was packing my things my phone vibrated, alerting me to a new text. Without even looking at my phone I knew it was from Kevin. It had taken me over five minutes to work up the guts to open the message. Finally, not wanting him to worry, I opened the text.
Kev: Are you ok?
Me: I’m fine…at the hotel. I have a flight home in a couple of hours. I need to pack.
Immediately after I’d hit send, my phone rang and Kevin’s ringtone sang through the speakers. I swiped to cancel the call and typed out another message.
Me: Please give me some space, I’m sorry. I just can’t talk to you right now.
I stared down at my screen, my heart pounding as I watched the three little dots dance about.
Kev: Ok, but can I at least take you to the airport?
Me: No. Please don’t come, I couldn’t bear it. Just give me time. Can you do that for me?
Kev: How much time?
Me: I don’t know. I’ve gotta go. I’m sorry, I can’t do this now.
Kev: Love you, Claire-Bear.
I had stared down at the phone. Therein was the crux of the matter, the difference between a “Love you” and an “I love you.” The two were worlds apart. Off-hand versus heartfelt. Casual versus serious. Friend versus lover.
My finger hovered over the delete button, shaking in defiance of what I wanted to do until I eventually exited my messages and placed the phone face down on the coffee table. The message still served as a reminder of my regret. Questions that would haunt me forever played in a loop that I knew would give me no respite for days, maybe weeks. The loudest voice demanding answers I’ll never be able to give, “Why did I go to the concert?”
Watching Kevin with Hayley was like a giant thumbtack popping my perfect bubble, allowing the vacuum to be filled by reality. Everything I’d been fighting against since Kim asked me to carry her baby. Everything I’d denied myself without even realising it rudely intruded on the perfect bubble I’d designed for myself. I wanted my own baby. I wanted the happy ever after I rolled my eyes at in romance novels. I wanted to tell my husband I loved him during a school concert where our child was a rock or a tree while we cried proud tears. I wanted him to hold me while I fretted over low-grade fevers and temper tantrums and tell me it was all going to be okay. I wanted stolen moments
during toddler afternoon naps and I wanted to fall asleep in each other’s arms when we were too tired for anything else after sleepless nights. I didn’t want them right then, not even in five years’ time, but I wanted those moments. I wanted every last one of them and I wanted them with Kevin. Watching him onstage, knowing who he was and how he felt about being anyone’s one-and-only, I knew that was never going to happen for us. With or without Hayley in the picture. And no matter how much I tried to patch the bubble, reality was already spreading like a virus.
Chapter Twenty-One
Eight days.
Eight days since I messaged Kevin. Eight days since Kevin messaged me.
He was merely respecting my wishes but the silence was agonising and with each second that passed, the pain felt more acute. I must have typed and deleted at least a hundred messages an hour and the voice notes I recorded but didn’t send served to remind me that the one person I needed to talk to more than anything was the one person I couldn’t reach out to.
I needed time to figure out how to go back to being just Kevin’s friend. If I could go back to being just his friend. So far, the silence wasn’t helping, it felt unnatural and left me feeling hollowed out and alone and I spent more time missing him than I did figuring out the way forward. I checked my phone for the zillionth time and tried to bank the disappointment when once again, I didn’t see a text from Kevin.
Kim and I had arrived for my first appointment with Dr. Baker, the enormity of what I was about to do emphasised just what I wanted and how far out of reach my dreams were. The struggle between what I knew I needed to do and what I wanted to do was ripping me in two. I wanted more than anything to rewind the last few days, to go back in time and take back my confession to Kevin but I couldn’t. It was time to face reality and that reality may include a life without Kevin.
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