Obsessed

by R. J. Lewis

  “There’s nothing to talk about,” Aston retorted.

  “I need you, Aston.”

  “That’s the fucking problem, Elise.”

  I stood still as his words sank in. That was the problem?

  “You made me need you!” I suddenly shouted, trembling now as the panic choked me. “You did this to me! You can’t leave me after everything, Aston! You said you wouldn’t do this! You promised! We made plans together! We made promises together! You can’t break those now!”

  He just ignored me. He grabbed a duffel bag by the wheel of the car and opened the front passenger door. He threw it in and turned to another bag.

  “Don’t ignore me,” I said. “Aston, you’re not thinking straight –”

  “I’ve thought long and hard about this,” he cut in sharply, throwing a glance my way. “I’m going to school and you’re staying here, and that’s how it’s supposed to be.”

  “What about us?”

  He stilled for a moment, breathing rapidly with his head craned up and his eyes on the sky. Then he took a deep, unsteady breath and carried on, loading the car with his stupid fucking crap. I brought my hands to my head and pulled at the strands of my hair. He couldn’t leave me like this. Fucking hell, I’d been so alone since Dad died, but I knew Aston was a door away from me and that made things bearable. I’d always held hope we’d fix this because he was right there, and now he was going.

  I wouldn’t reach him if he left. He would have control and he’d shun me. I was drowning. The water was in my lungs and I couldn’t breathe. I felt hot everywhere and my heart was racing. He didn’t love me, did he? Not as much as I did or else he wouldn’t go so easily.

  “Was it Dad?” I asked him, desperately, trying to make sense of this. “Aston, was it Dad?”

  No answer.

  “Just fucking ANSWER me! What did he say?” I bent over, panting now. I couldn’t breathe through the panic. The walls were closing in on me. “You’re hurting me, Aston. You’re hurting me.”

  He stopped moving and turned to me. His eyes glistened. “I can’t be here, El,” he told me, his voice broken. “I just… can’t.”

  “You can.”

  “I can’t.”

  “We belong together.”

  “We can’t be together.”

  No, no, no!

  I gulped a breath of air and raced back to the trunk. I pulled out the suitcase again and threw it on the ground. He moved to it and I stood in his way.

  “No,” I growled out. “NO! NO! NO!”

  “Elise,” he replied in warning.

  But I ignored his tone and pressed my front against his. “Stay. Please, Aston. Stay. I love you. I love you! That’s all that matters. We can make this work. Stay. Please, Aston. I love you.”

  I repeated myself. I pleaded for him to stay. I tried to kiss him but his lips wouldn’t move. So I pled and gripped his shirt, desperately trying to break through his wall. He abruptly grabbed me by the shoulders and forcefully moved me to the side. Then he grabbed the suitcase, and I grabbed it too. We tugged on it, until my hands were raw.

  “Elise,” he breathed out, looking at me, “you’re acting wild. You need to calm down. It’s not the end of the world.”

  “It is for me.”

  “You’re going to be fine –”

  “Just another hour and we’ll talk –”

  “No!” He pulled it toward him sharply and I fell forward, slamming into the ground. My elbows and knees took the force. I cried out from the pain and looked up at him. With wide eyes, he let go of the suitcase and dropped down to me. His hand touched my arm. “I’m sorry, El,” he apologized. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

  I moved away from him like a feral animal. Anger replaced panic for a fleeting moment, and I stood up and violently kicked at the back of his stupid fucking VEHI-KILL car with my bare foot, sending more pain through me. Then I grabbed his suitcase and threw it harshly into the trunk before closing it hard.

  “You want to go?!” I screamed, kicking at the car again. “Then fucking go, Aston! I will never love you again once you do. You will never get me back! You will never, ever have me again, do you hear? You go and we’re fucking finished? Are you listening to me?”

  He stood up and slowly backed away from me. He looked wretched, like my words cut him to the bone.

  “I fucking hate you,” I spat out. “We’re fucking done! Get in your fucking car and go! Go, you fucking prick, just GO!”

  He turned to the car and a bolt of terror shot through me. I ran to him, gripping him by the arm. “No, no! Don’t go! I didn’t mean that! Just stay! I promise, I won’t say that again. I swear, Aston. Let’s talk. Another hour, okay?”

  He didn’t look at me once as he pushed my hands away.

  “I’m sorry, Elise,” he whispered. “But it’s done.”

  Then he climbed into the car and shut it. I stopped fighting and stood there, watching him turn his car on, that loud horrible noise of his engine filling my ears. He peeled out of the driveway and took off, blowing up the neighbourhood, not another glance behind him.

  Not one glance.

  I watched him until he was out of sight, and then I waited. He’d come back because he’d come to his senses. Even if it wasn’t to talk about us, he’d do it to make sure I was alright. It was a nasty fight. It was important for him that I was okay.

  I waited.

  I waited.

  I cried as I waited.

  I cried harder when I knew he wasn’t coming back.

  I covered my face and bawled. Struggling for air, I could feel the eyes of the neighbourhood watching me. Their faces in the windows. Their front doors creaking open. Fucking Becky on her phone, all, “Debbie, Debbie, Debbie, you would not believe what I just saw!” The whispers would start. The rumours would spread. Everyone was going to know about us.

  Everyone.

  The tears dried in my eyes and I felt something within me…snap. Crack! It went. Like a lightning bolt inside my chest.

  “You want to talk,” I whispered to them bitterly. “I’ll give you fuckers something to talk about.”

  I turned back to the house and ran inside. I opened the garage door and went through Daddy’s toolboxes before I found what I was looking for. I went back inside, gripping the handle of the axe in my hand and ran up the stairs. It was like being removed from my body. I could feel the buzz under my skin, this hum that grew louder as I stormed in Aston’s room and raised the axe. I took one look around…

  Then I let it drop.

  I smashed everything in sight, clumsily and without good aim. I screamed as I went, cursing at the world, at God, at everything that had just been ripped from my hands. I smashed his window and threw his remaining textbooks out. I could already see the crowds forming outside their homes, and I laughed hysterically at the fuckers. “TAKE A PICTURE, WHY DON’T YOU! GO ON, YOUTUBE THIS SHIT, YOU FUCKERS!”

  Then I smashed at his dresser. I swung the axe a thousand times. Over and over and over and over and over again.

  I hated him! I hated him! I hated him!

  “I hate you!!” I screamed at the top of my lungs.

  He just left me. He didn’t even turn back! Not one glance! Now I was stuck with a mother who didn’t give a fuck about anything but her own misery, and my father was buried in the ground, rotting away, no longer existing. He didn’t exist anymore!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

  And I was alone.

  Completely and utterly alone!

  I screamed until my throat was raw and my eyes ached from the tears. I’d gone feral, and I was enjoying the high watching the destruction before my eyes. It was soothing, the perfect remedy for heartbreak. I’d recommend it to Cindy the next time she bitched about a boy. We could go on a smashing spree: two axes, four hands, furniture as far as the eye could see.

  “Elise.”

  Panting, I abruptly stopped and spun around.

  Adrian stood outside the door with his arms out to
me. He stared at the axe and then at my face. “Hey,” he said softly. “Hey, Elise.”

  Where had he even come from? He was in his uniform, so…what, had he been called? Had I created that much of a frenzy? Was he going to arrest me? For what? He had nothing on me. I hadn’t done anything wrong.

  Down the hallway behind him stood Mom. She was in her robe, her arms crossed, looking at me with startled eyes; it was the most emotion I’d seen in her since Dad died.

  I blinked rapidly, feeling the fog surrounding me slowly drift. What happened exactly? How long had I been at it?

  “Hey,” Adrian said again, forcing me to look back at him. He inched nearer. “How about we put down that axe?”

  I shook. “I…It was Dad’s axe. It’s mine now.”

  “Yeah, okay, well, how about we put it down?”

  “I don’t want to put it down.”

  “You’re causing a lot of havoc, Elise.”

  “I’m remodelling my brother’s room.”

  He looked at me like I’d lost it. I had. “Okay, El, you’re remodelling your brother’s room, but you’re…being very loud. We’ve had a number of calls.”

  “Am I disturbing the peace?”

  “More like concerning the residents.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Believe me, nobody is concerned. I’m sure they’re eating their popcorn right now.”

  He inched nearer again. “Okay, how about you hand me that axe?”

  “I’m not going to swing it at you, Adrian.”

  He sighed. “I’m more worried about you.”

  “You shouldn’t be.”

  “You’re bleeding.”

  “My heart is bleeding, yes.”

  “No, El, you’re bleeding.”

  I followed his eyes to my hands and gasped, dropping the axe instantly at the sight of blood dripping down my arm. I opened my hand and stared at a thick, long gash in the middle of my palm. I didn’t even feel it. How the fuck was that possible? I didn’t –

  “FUCK!” I shrieked, the pain suddenly setting in. I looked at my bloody hand and then at Adrian, and then back at my hand again. “I’m bleeding, Adrian!”

  “I know.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

  “I drove him away! I drove him away and I don’t know what I did. I tried to stop him, but he wouldn’t stop.”

  “Hey.” He was already in front of me, kicking away the axe.

  “I drove him away, Adrian. He left me. I wasn’t worth it. He didn’t care. He never even glanced back. Not one glance.”

  His arms wrapped around me and he pulled me to him, forcing my head against his chest. “It’s okay,” he told me. “Everything will be alright.”

  His warmth invaded my senses, and it calmed me instantly. I gripped his shirt with my good hand. A thousand emotions flooded me, but pain surfaced stronger than all the others. Pain in losing two of the men in my life I loved. I broke down again. Tears had become the norm. This sadness was a cloud that followed me wherever I went. The only difference was Adrian was there to tell me it was going to be okay.

  It was the perfect lie.

  19.

  Elise

  Adrian took me to the hospital and didn’t leave my side until I was called in. They sat me down on a hospital bed and closed the curtain so I was left alone. The nurse came around minutes later and wrapped my hand up and then asked me if I needed anything for the pain.

  “Alcohol,” I told her, deadpan.

  She just stood here, smiling and then not smiling when she didn’t know if I was joking or not. “Um, what?”

  “For the pain,” I explained.

  “Well, alcohol isn’t on the hospital menu, Elise,” she explained, like I was a fucking moron. Clearly she thought I was unhinged, probably had heard all about my meltdown from a friend of a nosey friend. News travelled fast around these shitty parts.

  “I was joking,” I replied, rolling my eyes.

  She nodded. “Of course you were.”

  “I don’t want anything.”

  I liked the pain and didn’t want to numb it just yet.

  She smiled nicely and left me alone. It felt like eons sitting there, listening to the hustle and bustle outside the curtain. I heard a man – clearly intoxicated out of his fucking mind – lose his shit before he started singing Christmas tunes. I heard Jingle Bells about four hundred goddamn times until a nurse came around.

  “Sir, did you pee yourself?”

  “I facken did what da want,” he cursed.

  “Can you please get up?”

  “Fack off.”

  Fucking hell, nurses were saints. I’d have blown it by now. She tried again, but he shot her down. She left him alone after that and he proceeded to sing Jingle Bells for the four hundred and sixty seventh time.

  Fuck my life. I shouldn’t have wrecked Aston’s room. I wouldn’t have been here otherwise, listening to this fucking tool curse and sing. This was worse than watching Aston drive off.

  He didn’t even glance back.

  “Good afternoon, I’m Doctor Crowe. How are we doing?” asked a voice.

  I looked up just as a man stepped into my partition. Even in my distress, my eyes briefly widened at him and my brain’s circuit blew, leaving behind smoke and debris.

  Just look at him.

  Was this dude seriously tending to me? Were doctors really this hot? He looked like a musclier version of Matt Bomer, but with dark eyes and messier hair.

  I looked away from him. “I’m fine.”

  He grabbed the over-bed clipboard. “Are you in any pain? Would you like some painkillers?”

  “No.”

  He read whatever was there with a furrowed brow before he glanced at me. He studied me for several moments, and then he set the clipboard back down and took a seat on the bed. “Can I have a look at your hand?”

  I reached my hand out and he took it into his own. I frowned. Why were his hands warm? From my experience, doctors always had really cold hands, like they’d been juggling ice in the breakroom.

  He carefully unwrapped the gauze, and when it was totally free, he studied the inside of my palm, at the deep gash that was aching more than ever now.

  “I’m just going to touch around the gash, Miss Wright,” he told me.

  He prodded around the edges, closing the cut so it formed a perfect line. I flinched in pain and he glanced at me apologetically. “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay.”

  God, it felt raw, and it was thumping like it had its own pulse.

  “So what happened exactly?” he then asked me.

  Oh, you know, I was swinging an axe around my brother’s room, destroying everything in my path because he kinda broke up with me.

  “I was chopping wood,” I answered gravely.

  I felt his eyes on me. He took a few breaths and then, “You were chopping wood.”

  “Mhm.”

  “For your wood fire oven in the summer?”

  “Yep.”

  “And then what happened?”

  I licked my dried lips. “I can’t remember. I think it was in the heat of the moment. I must have grabbed some wood with one hand and swung with the other. I didn’t even know until Adrian said something.”

  “Adrian Guildford the police officer in the waiting room?”

  I looked away. Great, he so knew. “Yep.”

  Another few moments ticked by. “Are you on something, Miss Wright?”

  “Like what?”

  “Can you look at me?”

  I looked everywhere else but him at first, and then slowly my eyes levelled out to his. He moved closer and stared into my eyes. Fucking hell, he was a Matt Bomer doppelganger, I swear to god.

  It felt like he was unusually close. Should you be feeling your doctor’s breaths on your face when they inspected you? Was my Matt Bomer unaware of personal space? He looked from eye to eye, and I sighed after a while because he kept looking. The hospital staff ha
d a lot of patience, and I currently had none.

  “Are you checking if my pupils are dilated?” I asked, smirking bitterly. “I can assure you they’re not. I’m not high, Doctor…what’s your name again?”

  “Crowe.”

  “Doctor Crowe.”

  “I’m just making sure, Miss Wright.”

  “I was angry, not high,” I told him firmly.

  “Like I just said, I’m only checking.”

  I made an irritated noise. “Well, what’s it to you anyway? Are you even allowed to ask me these questions? It’s none of your fucking business. You’re here to patch me up, not interrogate me. I have a police officer for a father, so I’m well acquainted with these rounds of twenty questions. Not in the mood, Doctor Crowe.”

  He backed away from me, a deep frown on his face. “I need to know the condition you’re in, Miss Wright.”

  “My condition is in my hand and nowhere else.”

  We looked hard at one another for several moments, and it was like a game of who could look away first.

  “Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way…”

  I groaned at the song and face-palmed myself with my other hand. Great, the doctor won. I shut my eyes shut tightly as the words I’d just said echoed through my head. I have a police officer for a father. “No, you idiot,” I whispered aloud, “I had a police officer for a father. Had. He’s dead. He’s not a fucking cop anymore. Do you have a salve for that, Doctor Crowe?”

  My body broke out in trembles, and I sniffed quietly. I kept those eyes shut so the tears wouldn’t escape, but I felt them at the corners. God, how embarrassing was this? Not only did he win our staring competition, but he had to watch me break down like a crazy person afterwards.

  A hand settled on my back. “It’s alright,” Doctor Crowe said quietly. “You’re alright.”

  I collapsed against him, my head hitting his chest. I sobbed, clutching the shirt of a stranger as I broke down. His arm wrapped around me now in a warm embrace. It felt perfect. Like Aston kind of perfect. In this bubble, I was clutching on to Aston and he was holding me, telling me it was alright, giving me the love I’d begged for since Dad’s death. For a split second, I couldn’t remember what was wrong.

  I needed this. I needed it so badly.