Stay With Me

Stay with me

Chapter 28

It had been two weeks since Frank had said he was willing to try to forgive me. They were probably the longest two weeks of my life. There was still a lot of tension that seemed to permeate the apartment, seeping into every fabric of it., I expected this, of course, Frank was still angry, He said it with every word he spoke to me, and every time he looked at me. I was on eggshells the entire time, wondering if he was going to suddenly tell me he had done enough ‘trying’ and was going to leave. I was scared that my world was going to suddenly be pulled from under my feet even more than it already had been. There was so much anger, no, rage, coming from Frank that I began to see why Nina had said for us to get some space from each other. Part of almost wished he would just tell me to leave already, and end the suffering for both of us. It couldn’t be healthy, to live in a such a small space with no room to breathe, no way to escape the hostility that had become part of our lives. I was beginning to wonder if Frank could truly forgive me.

I was slowly coming to resent the anger. I knew I had fucked up, and I was doing my best to put things right. I hadn’t spoken to Gerard, despite the many voicemails he left. I had stopped listening to them, but I still couldn’t bring myself to block Gerard’s number. I was being selfish, not doing anything to stop him from contacting me. Part of me needed to know that he still wanted me, that I had meant something to him. It meant that the shit that I was going through with Frank, the constant feeling of being the lowest of the low, was worth it. As awful as it was, I needed to know that if things fell apart with Frank, that maybe there was still a chance with Gerard, if he could ever forgive me for what I’d done.

I was doing all I could to be the best girlfriend possible. I was coming home from work earlier, to prove I wasn’t going anywhere I shouldn’t be. I took Frank with me to see Nina, so he could vent too. And boy, he did vent. It crushed me to know just what I had done to him, that I had turned him from the sweetest guy I had ever known, to a person who was only seemed to feel anger and sadness. I cried in the few moments of alone time I got when I showered. I was angry with Frank, and myself. I hated that I felt so sorry for myself, when I had created the cluterfuck I was currently in. I was trying to take responsibility for it, by not letting those feelings show. I took the cold stares and silence from Frank, and the hurtful words and glares when he needed to vent. I held back the words that were dying to leave my lips, the ones that would only serve to crush Frank even more. I knew that it wouldn’t make me feel better in the end, if I said them. Maybe in the moment it would; it might give me the satisfaction I needed, take some of the hurt and self hate I felt and throw it away but, in the end, I knew it wouldn’t serve any other purpose and would only weaken our already fragile truce.

Eventually, after a week, Frank seemed to have calm down. His mood stabilised, though now he just radiated sadness. I wanted to comfort him, make him feel better. I tried to make him laugh, I left little notes for him that told him all the reasons why I loved him, but that didn’t work. He would just throw them in the trash, as though the words meant nothing to him. I let him hog the remote, which was no small gesture from me when Vampire Diaries was on. All I wanted was to know that we would be okay, even if it took time. But with each passing day, I was less and less sure how much Frank’s heart was in it. We were talking, but it felt empty. I wanted him to reassure me that this was all worth, that he could let me back into his heart eventually. That was all I wanted, but it seemed more impossible every day. I was ready for the hard work, and I knew it would do me good to start putting work into our relationship again but, as Nina had pointed out, it takes two people to want to make a relationship work. The fact that Frank was still here was about the only thing that gave me any consolation, and hope.

I was alone in the sitting room when my phone rang. Frank was going to be late tonight, he had actually text me to let me know, something I took as a good sign. I hoped that it was indicator that the ice was thawing between us. I didn’t need to see who it was, but it was instinct to look at the screen as soon as I heard the vibration on the coffee table. ‘Gerard’ flashed up on the screen. My heart began to thump wildly, my palms were already damp with panicked sweat. I couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if I answered the phone. Would Gerard want me to answer? What would he say? Would he just leave it at one last conversation? I wondered if I was denying him closure with my refusal to answer him. Did I owe it to him to let him vent, if that’s what he needed? I wasn’t sure how to feel about how I’d left things with Gerard.

There were so many emotions that came up when I thought about him. I felt guilt the keenest. There was sadness, and regret, about how things had started and ended. The self loathing was always there too, in the background. I wondered if he was still drinking himself into a stupor, or was he pulling himself together? I knew I wasn’t worth the pain he was going through, and though it hurt to think of him with someone else, I hoped he’d find someone else who could give him what I couldn’t. Maybe then I wouldn’t feel the way I did, and the guilt that chewed away at my insides would disappear.

My thumb lingered over the green icon on the screen, my mind debating if I should finally give into the incessant calls. I didn’t know what to expect when I answered.

“Hello” my voice was soft, and I cringed at the nervousness that was there.

“Grace?” he was surprised I answered, that much was obvious.

“Gerard, this needs to stop,” the words were coming out automatically, nerves making me talk before my brain was fully engaged, “The calls, the voicemails...they need to stop.”

“I just want to talk Grace, I think I deserve that much, don’t you? After everything...you owe me that much. I’m not just a toy you can throw away now that you don’t want to play with me anymore.”

He was drunk. His words were slurred, and almost hollow. It didn’t sound like Gerard, the one who always had some kind of emotion in his voice when he spoke. He didn’t hide what he felt, and it was one of the things I loved most about him. I felt unsure how to even talk to this Gerard, the man who sounded so alien.

“What’s left to say?” I ignored the insult behind his words.

“You never gave me a chance, a real chance. Tell me, are you any happier with Frank now? Are things a bed of roses now that I’m out of the picture?”

I bit my lip. No, things weren’t any better. Things were far from okay, but I couldn’t tell him that. It would only serve to make him think that he was right about Frank not making me happy anymore. He didn’t need to know that Frank had found out about us. I guess I took too long to answer him, and the seconds it took for me to think out an answer.

“Just what I thought,” he sneered. “Did you tell him about us,Grace? How we use to screw each other’s brains out? That you told me things you could never tell him? That you didn’t have to hide who you were when we were together? Hhmm?”

A flood of memories came back to me. The days that we would just cuddle on his couch, in his apartment that always smelled of paint and coffee, and talk about our past. How his arms had felt strong, and safe. How he never made me feel bad about myself, or that I had to hide. I could show him the worse of myself, and he just accepted it as part of who I was. He saw how selfish I could be, and he still wanted me. He never cut me out, like Frank was doing now. I didn’t have to hate myself when we were together. I knew that he would never hurt me the way Frank was now. Gerard would never punish me, whether I deserved it or not.

“Does it matter? This... us, it’s over. You need to accept it,” the words hurt as I spoke them. I realised that part of me didn’t want it to be. I wanted to hold on to him. I knew I couldn’t though. It wouldn’t be fair to him, not when he could hurt himself because of me. He didn’t deserve to have such a shitty person in his life. Not when he was battling his own demons.

“If it’s really over, then it shouldn’t be too hard to come over and talk it out then.” His tone was demanding.

“That’s not a good idea, Gerard” I knew I sounded exasperated, but I didn’t know how to process everything that was swimming around in my mind. I didn’t want to admit that part of me just wanted to be in his arms, take the comfort I knew he would offer, if I asked.

“Just, I need to see you one last time. Grace, please” his voice catched on the last word. It broke down the last of resolve. Gerard had never asked for much of me, could I really deny him this?

“Okay. I’ll come over, but just to talk.”

With that, I hung up before I could change my mind. It was six now; Frank wouldn’t be home until eight thirty at least. I was enough time for Gerard to say what he needed to say. I didn’t change from my old tshirt and jeans. I just grabbed my coat and keys, and left the apartment.

It was cold. I hugged my coat closer to me as I walked. I felt a sense of dread, that was mingling with the butterflies that were going haywire. Part of me sensed that it was a bad idea to do it. There was a strange kind of nausea that was making my stomach clench, and my skin was all goosebumps and standing hairs. I tried to push it to the back of my mind. I had nothing to be afraid of.

It didn’t take long to get to his apartment. I pressed the buzzer for his apartment. I heard the static of the intercom, but he didn’t speak. Instead, there was the click of the door releasing, and I pushed the heavy door to enter the building. The sick dread in my stomach was increasing with every step I took. I shouldn’t have been so nervous, but my gut was telling me something wasn’t right. It was stupid; I had nothing to fear.

I knocked on the apartment door. It felt like a millennium had passed in the 10 seconds it took him to answer the door. I didn’t know which Gerard to expect - the drunk one, in clothes he’d been wearing for days who would stink of beer, or the Gerard I knew, who would at least look somewhat together. I was happily surprised when he opened the door. He had clean clothes on. His eyes were bloodshot though, and his hair was wet, which meant he had just showered. I could smell alcohol from the second he opened the door- even a shower couldn’t disguise the stench.

“Come in” he opened the door wide, and walked back into the sitting room. I followed him, the uneasy feeling in my stomach only growing.

There was still paint everywhere when I entered the sitting room. He was still painting, I could see the canvas had fresh paint on it,something I was thankful for. He was still working hopefully, if he was able to still paint. The apartment looked the same as the last time I was there, with one glaring difference. There were opened beer cans on the coffee table, and an empty bottle of Jack Daniels. He hadn’t felt the need to hide the extent of his drinking from me. I’m certain he wanted me to see it, wanted me to know the extent of the damage he was doing to himself. I swallowed as guilt and sadness overwhelmed me. If his intention was for me to feel bad about myself, he was certainly winning.

“Want a drink?” Gerard asked, watching me take in the site in front of my eyes. I knew then, that he knew exactly what he was doing.

“No, I’m fine” I managed to get the words out, though my throat was suddenly dry.

I was met with silence. I waited for him to say something, my eyes taking in his features. His face was slimmer than the last time I’d seen him, probably from lack of food. The thought made my stomach twist uncomfortably. His face was a greyish sort of pale, and the dark circles under his eyes were more pronounced than I had ever seen them. I felt uncomfortable, being in his presence. He was the living manifestation of the terrible things I had done. He was forcing me to see the full extent of the pain and destruction I had caused. He was everything I was trying to hide from.

“Why did you ask me here if you’re just going to stare at me?” The unease I felt was making me impatient. Now that I was here, confronted with the cold stare that Gerard was giving me, made me want to leave. There was nothing in his eyes, they were vacant. It scared me, to see a man who lived by his passions, to lose the light that was always behind his eyes. Was it my fault? I knew it was.

“What, I can’t look at you now? Is that another one of the things I’m no longer allowed to do? You never minded me looking at you when we were in bed.”

“I didn’t come here for an argument, Gerard. You said you wanted to talk, so talk. If you want to shout at me, call me names, then fine. Just get it over and done with.”

An eerie smile took over the straight line of his lips. He scoffed a little.

“That would make you feel better, wouldn’t it, sugar? I’m not going to feed into the martyr you want to be. Poor Grace, the girl who wanted to have her cake and eat, never mind everyone else. It’s one thing we’re good at, being victims. Thing is, we never stop being one, do we? We carry it with us, like an infection that won’t leave the blood. We thrive on being miserable, because it’s only thing we know. We want the hurt, we want the pain. Makes us feel a bit human again, like we have a place in the world. The pain makes us who we are.”

Gerard was rambling. He wasn’t really talking to me, as much as he was talking at me. I was a sounding board, letting him get the venom out of his system.

“Alcohol used to numb the pain for me, it worked for so many years. Just keep drinking, until I blacked out or ended up in hospital. I didn’t mind which. It’s not working so well anymore.”

His face softened, and suddenly the vacant look was gone. His eyes widened, as though he finally looking at me and seeing me.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he continued, “Every fucking second of the day, all I think about is you. It doesn’t matter how much I drink, or what pills I take to black out. Fuck, even when I’m asleep, you’re haunting my dreams. You were everything to me, Grace. All I wanted was you. I didn’t ask for anything of you, never demanded anything. Why wasn’t it enough? Why wasn’t I enough?”

I couldn’t stop the tears that welled up, threatening to spill onto my cheeks. He looked so lost, so broken, and all I wanted was to give him some comfort. I wanted to take him into my arms and keep him safe, stop him from hurting himself anymore. Looking at him, I wished I had never spoken to him in that waiting room. I wished that he had never met me, that he had never been unfortunate enough to have me walk into his life. Both of our lives would have been better for it.

“It’s not about you being good enough Gerard. I’m just not good for you, can’t you see that? Fuck, from day one I’ve taken more than I could ever give to you. Why don’t you see that?”

“You’re wrong. You gave me the only thing I needed. You understood me. You were the one good thing I had, Grace”

I shook my head. I needed him to see me, to destroy the pedestal he had put me on. I needed to get rid of his notion that I was going to come back to him. I had to put the final nail in the figurative coffin that was our short lived relationship.

“You didn’t have me Gerard. You never did. Are you really that naive?”

“Fuck that, you know what we have is real. If you didn’t care about me you wouldn’t be here right now. You still love me, I can see it.”

I was about to deny his words, and put an end to the conversation that wasn’t going to go anywhere fast, when he moved. He closed the distance between us, and pulled me to him. Before I could do or say anything, his lips were on mine. It wasn’t like the millions of kisses we had before; there was no love behind this. Only anger. I could taste the beer off his lips, a taste I found repulsive. I put my hands on his chest to push him away, but he only tightened his grip on me, his arms tight around my waist.

“Gerard, stop!” I turned my face from his, but he didn’t let me go. Instead, he focused his attention on my neck.

I could feel the panic begin the rise, stirring from my chest. I was forcing myself to breathe, and pushed my hands against his chest. I tried to push him away, but even in his current state, he was stronger than me. He didn’t remove his lips from my neck. He only pulled me closer with one arm, and without warning, his other hand wandered inside my underwear. There was no pleasure when his fingers penetrated me. I tried to move, and pushed again, but it was as though he wasn’t really there,

“Gerard, stop! I repeated, the fear evident in voice.

He didn’t listen. My breaths went from not existing, to short, fast breaths that weren’t pulling in the oxygen I needed. A fear I hadn’t felt since my last encounter with Nick was tingling all over my skin, and like so many years, I was paralyzed by it. It was deja vu, only this time it was someone I trusted who was violating me. Someone who had known the pain of having their consent taken away, was now inflicting it.

“Gerard, please” I somehow strangled out.

Gerard stopped, the change in my voice registering with him. His hand stilled, and in a flash he he no longer touching me. He had backed away, his expression suddenly shocked and he realised what he was doing. I knew he had scared himself, but that didn’t do anything to ease how violated I felt. Whatever trust I had before, had been lost the second he ignored my right to say no.

I didn’t wait for him to say anything else. I did what I did best, and ran out of his apartment without looking back.

Notes

So, long time no update. I had a very bad case of writer's block and a no confidence in anything I wrote. Since last week, I've managed to start writing gain, and actually like what I've written. I can't promise it will last but I hope I'm back to my old writer self. I fully plan on finishing this, and any other story I'm currently writing.

If you were reading this before and have come back, thank you.