Stay With Me

I was thankful that I had work to lose myself in over the next few days. The firm had a couple of high profile cases going on, forcing me to work overtime with the amount of pre-trial preparation needed. Normally, I would complain about starting at eight in the morning and not going home until seven thirty that evening - tired, drained and distracted. Work was the only part of my life that wasn’t completely ripped apart, open and raw when I thought about it. Gerard’s words had permeated my brain, and it was all I could think about whenever I was alone and free to cry to my heart’s content. They had wounded me deeply, and stung like vinegar poured on an open cut. The fact that his words weren’t spoken in anger, but from a place of self-righteous truth, was what made them hard to process and accept. They made me doubt everything I believed about my relationship and what my feelings really were towards Frank. He was wrong about one thing; I loved Frank. Even if he was right about me having feelings for him on some level and Frank not making me happy anymore, that he was wrong about. Sure, things weren’t perfect now, and maybe our relationship was coming to a slow, painful death, but none of that invalidated the genuine love I held for Frank, and would remain to have for him irrespective of what the future held for the two of us. I wouldn’t be clinging onto him with so much desperation if I didn’t. My parents had been in love, and while I was a cynical person in many regards, I believed in fighting for something as beautiful and painful as love. I had told many lies in my life, but that was not one of them. Sure, I had doubted Frank and whether he would stay with me once the truth was out from the very beginning of our relationship but that didn’t mean what we had wasn’t real. I had hidden a part of me from him since the moment we met, I’ll admit, but we had connected the minute we met, and I wasn’t going to let Gerard’s words take that away from me. I remembered that day so well, like it was yesterday.

I was at a frat party on campus, which, like all the others, had too much booze going around, and not enough people who had the sense to be responsible with their intake. It was a typical night from my point of view; I was drunk before I even made it to the frat house. I was geared for another night of senseless debauchery and self-destruction with the help of my roommate, who disappeared within seconds of walking in the door to find some weed. I was dressed way more conservatively than the rest of the girls in attendance in my jeans, flat shoes and a girl-cut Misfits band t-shirt. By this stage,I was using booze as a substitute for the razor I was no longer able to use in secrecy. Being clean from cutting fooled me into believing I was getting better, when in fact I only replaced one distraction with another, more dangerous, habit. I had gone outside, dying for fresh air and eager to escape some creep who had been watching me the whole night. I had slowed my drinking down from hard shots to sipping beer when I saw how he had looked at me with leering blue eyes that reminded me of Nick the second I caught a glimpse of them , fearful that he would try to hurt me like Nick used to. After an hour of stalking, he was making his way over to me when I panicked and ran outside, because being outside felt far safer than being inside a crowded room waiting for his inevitable approach. It was a dry, clear night and the moon was shining brighter that I’d ever seen it before. The garden out front contained a scattering of small groups of people smoking, which was banned inside. Frank had been sitting on the grass, taking a drag from his cigarette and talking to a girl I recognised from one of my classes the first time I laid eyes on him. It was instant attraction on my end; even in the glow of the moonlight I could make out his dark hair, nose piercing and boyish grin. Nicole recognised me and waved me over, and for once I was happy to be in her company if it meant the creep from earlier would leave me alone. She didn’t wait for me to sit down before she opened her mouth, gushing words at such a high speed, I’m surprised I was able to hear them properly.

“I was just telling Frank here about how awful our American literature class is. He’s thinking about transferring out of philosophy; tell him what a big mistake he’s making!”

I saw how he eyed me up and down, and I was surprised when I blushed instead of running away like the frightened little girl I was inside. If any other guy had done it, I would have walked away without so much as a glance back or an apology. It was one of those things that couldn’t be explained, but I was instantly intrigued against my will. I sat down, determined to keep our eye contact and prove to myself that I wasn’t fazed by his good looks and disarming smile. I tried so hard to not be the first to break it; then he winked at me and I couldn’t take it anymore. His eyes were so intense, I swore he was seeing right through me, like my skin was transparent and my insides were on show just for him to see. His eyes were shining with amusement, pleased that he had finally broken through the confidence I tried to fake.

“The professor is a complete douche. It wouldn’t be worth it, just stick with philosophy.” For the life of me I couldn’t figure out how I uttered those words coherently. I was looking him in the eye again, my gaze defiantly confident in contrast to the blush blazing my cheeks. I only wished I knew how to make him blush the same way.

“I don’t know about that. The company might make up for it.” His voice had an immediate effect on me. I shivered, out of fear or pleasure I didn’t know.More than likely, it was a mix of the two. There was a definite connection between us,and it scared the hell out of me. There was something so calm and relaxed about him, he gave out good vibes that made me trust him even though I didn’t know him.

“Nice top. I take it you’re a fan?” He changed the topic, ignoring Nicole.

“Yeah, big time. One of my favourite bands, actually.”

“Me too. Not often I meet a fellow fan.”

There was that smile again. It was so utterly endearing and charming, and suddenly I realised I had to get out of there before I did something foolish, like hear more stuff that would make me want to know him better. I knew this was something that couldn’t end well. I was dirty and broken, and so not available to anyone, let alone a guy who was out of my league. I would never be worthy of someone like him. He was smart enough to get into college, he was handsome, engaging and apparently had a similar taste in music to me. He was too fucking perfect, just like Nick. That was what got me standing up with a murmured “Nice to meet you” and scarpering off into the safety of the house, with no intention of ever seeing him again.

That wasn’t the end of it, of course. Frank transferred into my class days later. Back then he pursued me relentlessly, taking every opportunity he could to spend more time with me, even if it was just sitting beside in the lecture hall. Eventually, after the fifth time he asked me on a date, I gave in, with very little expectations on my end. I searched for a fault in his character, of any kind, in the following weeks, but I turned up empty. I tried to push him away, and held off on any sort of intimacy, believing that he would eventually get bored of me if I didn’t give in . I never let my fear show or let my guard down at any stage. In spite of how hard I tried, I fell head over heels for him, like that stupid Alanis Morrisette song. He knew me better than anybody else in the world, and that meant everything to me. Okay, so he didn’t know much about my family or my past, but I preferred to keep it that way. When I told him about my father’s suicide, he had tried to talk about it with me, but I evaded every attempt in my shame and anger. So much of my past was kept hidden in the dark, selfishly guarded.So, in the hope that I could pretend it wasn’t real, I never spoke about it to anybody. I didn’t want to be the victim, or the liar to people who wouldn’t believe me. It was such an easy choice at the time; it didn’t feel like much of a choice at all, in all honesty. There was no one moment when I decided to lock my past away in the darkest part of my mind for no one to see. It was an instinctive self-preservation technique, one that was flawless and perfect with no casualties. I truly believed it was the best thing for me, and everyone around me.

Yet here I was,wounded and fractured from the choices I had made so long ago. I had to watch the man I loved for so long pull away while he tried to accept this other side of me, the one he had no idea existed. The crippling, angry atmosphere from the last few weeks had been replaced with a suffocating hurt, confused tension that neither of us knew how to breech. It wasn’t for lack of trying, though. There were evenings where we just watched each other, wishing that one of us could just find the magical words to break the invisible glass barrier between us into small, fragile pieces that could be swept away and forgotten about. I wanted to find the words that would lift the burden of guilt from his shoulders. I tried so hard to open my mouth and spill my guts for him to see and make sense of, but it never happened, which I put down to my exhaustion from work. I could only wait for him to make the first move, like he always did. Frank always knew the answer to everything, no matter what the question was, but now he was looking to me to make this situation better, to tell him what to do to solve it, and get things back to the way they used to be. He was as fucking clueless as I was, and that in itself was enough to terrify me. Frank was the stronger one, the one who could always fix everything. He liked fixing things; it was part of his nature to solve every little problem that came his way. If he couldn’t pick the pieces up, if he couldn’t find the will to fix this, I wasn’t sure how we could make it through if we couldn’t even talk about it. Nina was right about us needing to communicate; I finally saw it, though now it may have been too late.

It was Saturday, late afternoon, to be exact, and we were sitting next to each other on the couch, without touching, watching some cooking show without any real interest. I was too tired to try talking again, and I honestly didn’t think I could have any kind of meaningful conversation right then. The week had sucked every bit of energy from me. The two cups of coffee I’d already consumed weren’t working the way they should have. I wasn’t a ball of nervous energy rearing to do something that involved being out and about. Getting dressed had been a hard enough task, never mind thinking about going outside. Frank either felt the same, or just had nothing else to do. The temperature had dropped dramatically outside, and it was slowly infiltrating the apartment. I didn’t even realise I’d been shivering until I felt Frank’s arms around me, pulling me against his chest. I placed my head on his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat and body heat. It felt like forever since we had mindlessly cuddled without me crying. I wrapped my arms around his torso, almost lying on top of him in my need to get closer to him. I could smell his aftershave, the one that always got me in the mood to rip his shirt off. It had been so long since we had any kind of sexual intimacy, and now that I could smell him, and feel him so close to me, I realised that I still wanted him so badly, even in the midst of the uncomfortable atmosphere and uncertain future. It wasn’t just a sexual want, or desperation. I still felt that connection to him, I was sure of it. Surely that meant something. Without warning, I sat up and kissed him. It wasn’t lustful or rough, like our normal kisses. When his hand moved, my heart dropped in fear that he was going to push me away. Instead his hand cupped my cheek, while his other arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me closer. I wrapped my arms around his neck, putting everything into that one kiss that words couldn’t do justice for. It was I was sorry. That I need you, and I still want you. Eventually, the pent up frustration started to seep into the kiss unintentionally. My hands traced lightly down his toned chest, feeling the hard muscle over his shirt. I grabbed the hem of it, eager to get rid of it when Frank stopped me.

“Grace, wait a minute.”

Frank was breathless, but it didn’t disguise the urgency and fear in his words. His eyes were wide, and I saw no lust or want in them. He was afraid of me now, and its effect on me was instantaneous. I felt sick, unwanted, but, above all else, I felt the one thing I didn’t want to feel. I felt like a victim. That was how he saw me now, and it was so clear now. The girl that used to keep him in bed all day was gone in his eyes. I was someone who was fragile now, someone beyond repair. I was no longer me anymore. I’d be lying if I said I remembered getting off the couch, my body shaking and fighting the urge to break down. I wasn’t going to prove him right by getting upset and crying. My instinct to run kicked in full swing and all my senses seemed to dull. I could hear his voice but his words didn’t reach my ears. It was nothing but a background noise, and I ignored his presence when he followed me to the door, asking me where I was going. I didn’t respond to him, too hurt and angry to make any sort of meaningful reply. I made sure I slammed the door in my wake, praying that it somehow hurt him as much as he had hurt me.

Notes

I'm so excited fort he next chapter guys, and I think you guys will like it.

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Lyra