by Dick, Amanda
“Hey,” he whispers, running his fingers gently down my arm, making skin tingle. “Are you okay?”
I nod, still trying to hold everything together, not wanting to ruin the mood.
“You sure?”
He sounds dubious, moving to look at me properly but I daren’t look up at him just yet.
“Yeah.”
I’m not sure how natural my voice sounds, considering I’m hanging on by a thread, but either it’s passable, or he instinctively gets that this has nothing to do with what just happened between us. I snuggle closer in to him, relishing the sound of his heart beating beneath me.
We lie there for a while, staring out at the lake, gathering our thoughts, and I’m filled with an inner serenity I didn’t know was possible. He strokes my hair, murmuring into it every now and then. I don’t want to move, ever. I love being with him, I love everything he does, every move he makes, every word he says. I love it even when he pushes my buttons and my boundaries. I love that he won’t let me hide, even when I want to. I love how much stronger I feel when he’s with me.
My fingers wander lightly over the scarred skin on his chest, mapping the terrain, trying not to think about the pain these wounds caused him, then and now. I understand why he doesn’t want to talk about what happened after he was discharged. Facing our demons once is hard enough; facing them a second time feels like tempting fate.
“Are you hungry?” he asks, his fingers finding mine as they float along the surface of his skin for the hundredth time.
He takes my hand in his and weaves our fingers together as I look on. I still feel slightly detached from what we just did, as amazing as it was. It feels like it wasn’t me doing it, but someone else. Maybe it’s because it’s so foreign to me now, this kind of attachment, this kind of sweet without the bitter I’m so used to.
“Yeah, I suppose so,” I whisper, watching our hands dance together above his chest. “Are you?”
“Ravenous.”
He folds his hand around mine and holds it gently still, while my heart races wildly.
“I’m going to make us some dinner,” he says. “But that means I need to get up. Are you emotionally prepared to be separated from me yet?”
The humour in his voice is obvious, and I raise my head, looking up at him.
“I’m sure I can find a way to deal with it,” I smile.
His return smile transforms his whole face, and I can’t help myself. I scoot up further, kissing him with a sense of joyful abandon that skips through my bloodstream, setting fire to my belly. The kiss turns into something much more than just a token, and he rolls me over onto my back, looming over me as we finally separate. I stare up at him, into his crystal-blue eyes, his mouth still slightly parted from our kiss, his lips so soft. The desire in his eyes is so clear.
He looks as if he wants to say something, but no words come. I know that feeling.
I smile up at him, reaching up to cup his face in my hands.
“I love the beard,” I murmur. “But I wonder what you look like underneath it.”
“You couldn’t handle a clean-shaven version of me,” he smiles, his eyes glinting. “It’s in the genes. I’m devastatingly handsome under here. This beard is for your own protection, believe me.”
I giggle as his mouth twitches, then explodes into a full-blown grin, one that makes my head spin. When he smiles like this, it does incredible things to my insides, and before I can stop it, laughter bubbles up from way down deep.
“Why are you laughing?” he asks, faking dismay.
I can’t stop. I try, but it’s hopeless, and when I can finally control myself enough, I see he’s looking down at me with a look I’ve seen only once before.
From James.
It sobers me slowly, then crashes into me, forcing my heart to a shuddering halt.
“What is it?” he asks, not missing a thing.
“Nothing,” I murmur, squirming out from under him and reaching for the clothes we’d so easily abandoned not long ago.
I pull my still-wet t-shirt over my head.
“Sian? Talk to me.”
I can’t, though, not yet. Not if I want to make any sense. I stand up and step into my sopping shorts, fastening them as best I can, then reach for my bra and underwear.
“Hey,” he says again, taking hold of my arm as I stand there, my back to him, wringing out my underwear. “What’s wrong?”
I turn to him slowly, because I don’t want him to see how much this hurts me. I don’t want to be thinking of James while I’m with him. It’s not fair, on either of them. Guilt blindsides me, and my eyes sting from the effort of holding back the tears that have appeared out of nowhere.
By the time I’ve mustered up the necessary courage to look up at him, I’m pretty sure he already knows what’s going on. He always seems to be able to read my mind.
“We haven’t done anything wrong,” he says gently, his hand travelling down my arm to take my hand, still holding my soaking underwear in a vice-like grip. “You haven’t done anything wrong. Please tell me you understand.”
I hang my head. It’s so hard to look at him when all I can see is James’s face, the love in his eyes. I do understand, or a part of me does. But another part of me, the part of me that’s buried in a dark corner of my heart, wonders if maybe this is all too soon. It wonders if James would understand, if he saw us now. It wonders if Kieran would think that I’m abandoning him.
His fingers gently tilt my chin up towards him, and I try to get as tight a grip on my rampant emotions as I have on the wet underwear in my hand.
“Please don’t feel guilty about being happy,” he says softly. “You’re entitled. You’re worthy of it, of all of it. If James loved you as much as I think he did, he’d want this for you. No one likes to see the one they love in pain.”
His words carry a heavy burden, and the weight of that shows in his eyes. I reach up and wrap my arms around his broad shoulders, shoulders that show the weight of the burden he carries on his skin. He holds me tight, his bare skin warm to the touch, even as the sun prepares to set on this most momentous of days.
Chapter 28
Watching Luke as he sits on his haunches poking at the fire after dinner, the restlessness that’s been building inside me for the past few hours demands a release.
“Do you mind if I go home and get changed?” I ask, looping my arms under my thighs and drawing my knees up. “My clothes are still kinda damp.”
He looks over at me, the last rays of daylight glowing in his face.
“Of course I don’t mind.”
I smile, hoping it looks more casual than it feels.
“Thanks,” I say, standing up and walking over to give him a brief kiss.
He smiles up at me from his knees, and I turn away, not altogether sure what I need but knowing I have to make an effort to find it before this anxious knot in my stomach gets any bigger.
“Hey,” he calls, and I turn back to see him standing beside the glowing coals. “Are you sure you’re alright?”
I’ve been asked that a thousand times over the past year, but every time he asks me, I want to make the effort to be. I want it more than anything.
“I’m fine,” I smile, hopefully more credibly this time. “I won’t be long.”
He lets me leave this time, and as I make my way along the side of the house and through the trees, I find myself choking back tears. Walking across the lawn and up the steps to the deck, I finally let them come. But these tears are different. They’re not borne of guilt or fear or pain. They’re borne of the knowledge that I have to say goodbye.
Tears stream down my face as I crawl into the bedroom wardrobe, pulling it shut behind me. Last time I was in here, in the dark, it was with Luke. This time, it’s just James and I. I feel guilty for excluding Luke from how I feel, but this is something I need to come to terms with alone. I sit in the dark, leaning my head against the back of the wardrobe, as James surrounds me. I close my eyes, even thou
gh I can’t see anything but the slit of light through the edge of the door, and I inhale him. He’s everywhere and nowhere, which is what makes this place what it is.
“I love you,” I whisper into the darkness, tears rolling down my cheeks. “And I miss you, so much. I hope, wherever you are, you’re with Kieran, watching over him, keeping him safe. Kiss him for me. Hold him for me. I love you both.”
I listen for a reply, for a sign, for something to indicate that he’s heard me, that he knows that I’m saying goodbye, but nothing comes. I swallow down the disappointment.
Maybe I’m going about this the wrong way?
I crawl out of the wardrobe and into the grey light of early evening. I find the matches that Ana bought for me, take a paper boat and a candle out of my bedside drawer and make my way down to the lake’s edge. Wading into the water, I place the candle in the boat and set it down, watching as it bobs about on the surface. The match takes first time, and my heart soars. Touching the flame to the wick, dropping the match into the water, I push the glowing boat carefully out into the lake. I close my eyes and imagine James and Kieran, together and happy. Summoning up all my love, I pull it to the surface and send it out across the water with the boat, hoping that wherever they are, it will find them and surround them with its warmth. I watch the boat as long as I can stand it, knee-deep in water, then turn to make my way back.
Luke is standing on the lawn in the semi-darkness, watching me.
We stand there for a few moments in silence, neither of us moving. Then, he walks down the grass towards me and I make my way out of the lake. We meet at the water’s edge and, without saying a word, he takes me into his arms. I hold on tight because he’s the reason I can bear to say goodbye. He gave me that strength. I want to tell him that, but I can’t. All I can do is hold onto him, like he’s holding onto me, as the sun settles in behind the hills on the opposite shore.
***
I grab one of Nanna’s knitted blankets off the back of the couch, and we lay it down at Luke’s, not far from the fire. The air is cooler tonight than it’s been in a long time, but with Luke beside me I barely feel it.
I curl up beside him, like I did once before, my head resting on his chest, his arm wound around me. I don’t tell him about the wardrobe. That’s between James and I. We don’t talk about the boat, either. I think he understands that some things I have to do for myself, by myself, and I’m grateful. I don’t really think I can find the words to explain it properly anyway.
“Look,” he points up at the sky. “Shooting star.”
We watch in awe as a trail of light blazes across the sky then disappears.
“Is that really a shooting star?” I ask.
“Sure. Haven’t you ever seen one before?”
“Never. I’ve never really been much of a star-gazer.”
“Huh,” he breathes, pulling me closer. “We used to do this a lot when I was a kid. Lying outside under the stars, watching the sky for them.”
“Did you see very many?”
“A few. Not as many as I would’ve liked, to be honest. That’s the first one I’ve seen for a long time.”
I know what he’s thinking. I’m thinking it too. Maybe it’s a sign?
He leans down to kiss the top of my head, and I smile, the contented smile of someone I never thought I’d be again.
“I’m gonna ask you something now, and it’s something that’s been driving me crazy ever since I’ve been here,” he says.
“Okay. Colour me intrigued.”
“What the hell does ‘yeah, nah’ actually mean? Is it yes or is it no, because I’ve got no goddamn idea.”
I giggle like a schoolgirl. I can’t help it.
“I’m serious,” he says, squeezing me to him. “It’s not funny. Half the time I can’t understand what y’all are saying. It’s another language, I swear. So, stop laughing, and tell me – is it yes or is it no or is it something else entirely?”
I try to swallow down the laughter and take him seriously, clearing my throat.
“It’s like saying ‘whatever’ or ‘maybe’. Its non-committal most of the time, but sometimes it means yes and sometimes it means no.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“Unbelievable.”
I grin into his chest, shrugging.
Our conversation comes with longer and longer pauses, and at some point, he reaches over to pull his sleeping bag over us. That’s the last thing I remember before sleep claims me.
***
I wake up with a start, my body jerking awkwardly.
Geezer barks, shocking me again. Geezer almost never barks these days.
“What is it?” Luke mumbles sleepily.
It takes a moment to register, but there’s an unnatural glow coming through the trees that sets my heart racing. The night air is alive with hissing and popping, like a giant bonfire.
Bonfire.
Fire!
I leap up, taking off at a crazy sprint along the side of the house and through the trees, praying to a God I no longer believe in that this is a dream. It has to be. It has to be!
But it’s not.
I emerge from out of the trees to stop, stock still. I can’t move. My world is burning and all I can do is watch.
Flames lick at the curtains, turning them to ash in a heartbeat. Sparks rain down like fireflies in the night sky. Acrid smoke fills the air, and I think I’m going to be sick, but I don’t move. All I can do is stand there and watch, horror paralysing me.
That’s when I see him.
James, standing at the window, watching me.
It only takes a moment, a heartbeat, and I make my decision.
I run straight for the doorway, heading for the flames that are spilling out. I’m so close, the heat and smoke burn my throat. I’m not going to lose them a second time. I won’t survive it again.
Then I’m roughly jerked backwards.
It takes me a second to fight, but when I do, I’m a banshee. The scream rips out of me with such force that it stings my vocal chords. I fight with everything I have left, and more. I scratch and tear, writhing and pulling, but he will not let me go. He’s much stronger than I am and I know from the way he’s holding me that he’s never going to.
Luke.
The scream dies, turning into a sobbing gasp as I run out of air. I dissolve like a ball of wet tissue, but still he doesn’t let go. We fall to the damp grass together as the flames devour everything. I can’t breathe. The noise is deafening.
He says something I can’t hear, pulling me towards him, turning my face away from the fire that is quickly engulfing the cottage. I resist, refusing to look away, even as the smoke and tears sting my eyes.
I need to see.
If I’m going to lose him again, I’m going to see it happen this time, even if it burns my eyes out of my skull.
The flames reach ever higher, until they’re almost touching the stars. The heat is unbearable, and Luke pulls me backwards until we’re sitting on the jetty, suspended between fire and water. The gas barbeque bottle explodes, shooting a rocket up into the air. It seems to happen in slow motion, as if I’m watching a movie. Even the sound dies away. I turn to look at Luke, and his mouth is moving but I can’t hear a word he’s saying. I can’t hear anything anymore.
I can see, though. I see everything. I refuse to blink, refuse to miss anything. My home, my sanctuary, my memories are burning and I will not miss any of it, not this time.
I search the windows, the door, but I can’t see James anymore.
He’s gone. They’re gone.
Panic rips through me. With renewed vigour I fight against Luke, struggling to get him to release me and let me go to them. I don’t know how to help them, to save them, but it doesn’t matter because he holds me tight anyway.
Helplessness bubbles up inside of me as the sound returns to my world.
The hissing and popping of the fire. The cracking and splintering of wood. The sm
ashing of glass as the windows blow out. The scream, part frustration and part infuriation, that peals out of me.
Right at this moment, I hate him so much it hurts.
Chapter 29
My precious memories, so carefully catalogued in case they disappear into the black hole, are gone. If I lose the real ones, the ones in my head, I will never make my way back. I know that with a certainty that carves through my soul, hollowing it out and leaving it ragged and bleeding.
This is one of the two thoughts that echo around inside my head and my heart, tearing my soul to ribbons.
The other is that my sanctuary, where James was alive and real, is ash.
The sound of Kieran’s laughter, of his crying, of his voice, is gone.
They’re gone. It’s all gone.
Night turns into day.
“Sian?”
Luke’s voice cuts through the misery, if only for a moment. I have his sleeping bag pulled tightly around me, huddled in a bubble of my own despair, unable to speak, unable to stop shaking. I can’t get warm. I can barely breathe. The sadness drags me under until I can barely see the sky.
“Come on, let’s get you inside.”
I don’t remember the boat ride over. I don’t remember seeing Ana. I don’t remember whose car we drove here in. I don’t remember the journey at all. My memory is swallowing up details whole. Soon I won’t remember anything.
He carries me into the house, still wrapped in his sleeping bag. The sky is blue, wispy white clouds streaking across it, and I can’t take my eyes off them. They look close enough to touch, yet so far away I can barely see them. Nothing is real anymore.
Lying on the bed in Ana’s spare bedroom, I stare at the wall, afraid to close my eyes. I can hear them talking in the living room, low voices with words I don’t want to understand.
Luke stays, even though I don’t want him to. I want him to leave, but he’s stubborn. I’m not surprised. Not much surprises me now. Surprises take energy that I don’t have.