I Love You to Death (6 page)

"Goodnight," I whisper too late.

I wonder what any of that was about.

∞

I wasn’t going to go to Adam’s funeral. I just couldn’t face the prospect of saying goodbye to my first real boyfriend, especially after everything that had happened, after that night with him. In the end Dad convinced me I should go, said it was a chance to say goodbye, get some closure or something. I’m sure deep down a part of him knew what had really happened that night. Why else would Adam have been where he was when he died. There was only one place he could have been coming from, only one person he would have been seeing. Dad had to have known, but he never said anything and I never could bring myself to admit it out loud either.

It was Dad who had found out what happened first. It was the following day when Adam’s Mom rang our house. Dad answered because I was still in bed, trying to hang on to the smell of Adam as he lingered on my sheets. She told Dad what’d happened and then Dad told me. It didn’t make the pain any less having Dad tell me, but at least someone was there to hold me when I found out.

They said Adam was walking home really early Sunday morning when he’d been hit by a car. Whoever hit him hadn’t stopped and it was the driver in the car behind who saw the whole thing. They aren’t sure if the driver who hit him was drunk, but they were definitely speeding.

Adam was left lying on the side of the road. Massive internal injuries apparently. Dead before the ambulance even got there. There was a witness, who stopped, called the police. They waited with him while he slowly died on the side of the road. It was the emergency room doctors who called his parents. They came and identified the body. The police were still investigating, trying to find the driver. They had a partial plate number, but it had been dark and it had all happened so quickly. Of course he never should have been walking home at that time. Never should have been walking home at all.

All through the funeral, as the priest droned on and on, all I could see were images of that last night with him. The moment when he came upstairs and into my room. My racing heart, my open curtains and the moonlight streaming in. His skin, the feel of it against mine. His kisses. And his touch, the touch of his fingers on my body, how much I wanted it, how much I wanted more of it.

And all I could think about as I sat there staring at his coffin, is how much I wished I’d said I love you. I had so many chances during that night, when he’d held me wrapped in his arms as though he was trying to hold us both together. I wish I’d just said it, even if he never said it back to me.

But I didn’t and that was the last time I ever saw him. The last time he ever held or kissed me. The first and only time I ever felt his skin against mine. And sitting there at his funeral, all I could do now was silently tell him that I loved him, knowing he would never hear me say the words at all.

∞

When I fell in love with Sam, I wasn’t going to waste time waiting to tell him how I felt. I knew it as soon as I met him. And I knew I wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to tell him either, not again, not like last time. The funny thing was, in the end it was Sam who said it first. And he said it so naturally, so unexpectedly that for a second I wasn’t sure whether it really happened. For a second it looked as though even he didn’t fully realise what he’d just said out loud.

We’d only been together for about two weeks. I was still staying in his room in the tiny cramped apartment he shared with Simon and Brandon, but had finally landed myself a job. I’d started paying rent and buying food, but I still got the feeling that neither of those two liked me bunking down here too much. That maybe I was cramping their style and they were starting to resent the fact I was living with them all. But every time I’d brought it up with Sam, all he said was, "I don’t really care what they think Ash. I want you to be here."

"Yeah but it’s uncomfortable them not wanting me here Sam," I said. "I feel like I’m intruding all the time."

"I’ll talk to them babe, I promise I’ll talk to them both."

I was lying in bed watching him get ready for school. He had an early class that day but I didn’t start work till lunch time. "You will?" I asked him.

I remember he walked back towards the bed, which was really just a double mattress on the floor, where he knelt down and kissed me before saying, "I will Ash, I promise I will. I gotta go, I love you babe."

We both froze after those words were out. I was looking at him waiting, trying to see if they were said as a mistake, whether he wanted to take them back. He was looking at me as though he was expecting me to freak out because he’d just said those words out loud.

But then he smiled at me, lent down and kissed me again before he said, "Too soon?"

"No, not too soon," I said, my voice barely a whisper. "Not if it’s true."

As his hand brushed my hair back, Sam said to me, "Yeah it’s true Ash. I love you."

Sam didn’t get to class that morning after all. When I said the same words back to him, we kind of had other things on our mind.

Threes; they can be evil, charms, wishes or simply the basis for harmony in music

∞

Playlist
:

1. Bittersweet symphony – The Verve

2. Count on me – Bruno Mars

3. Make it without you – Andrew Belle

∞

I’ve always hated situations where I’m not going to know anyone. It’s why I couldn’t go to Nate’s wake and it’s why I never really made any friends. I don’t know why I can’t do it, but I just find it difficult. Difficult to talk to people, even before all of this other crap started.

Because of this, I’ve been called aloof, a bitch and much worse. To be honest, I no longer care. What I really am is incredibly shy, but it doesn’t matter anymore. Now it just makes my life simpler, because people find it easier to ignore me when they have this opinion of me. It’s better for everyone that I’m seen like this because then there’s less chance they’ll get to know me and less chance they’ll end up dead.

∞

I don’t know what to do about Luke’s party. We aren’t friends, not by a long stretch, but I know he’s going to keep asking me to come along. He’s already mentioned it three more times since he sent that email inviting me. It’s not that I don’t like him; that has nothing to do with it. There’s definitely something about him that intrigues me. It’s hard to put my finger on exactly what it is, he’s different to what I expected.

The problem is, these days I know it’s a dangerous thing for someone to get to know me, to want to know me. Even though we aren’t actually friends yet, it will happen eventually and then everything will change.

After the cut hand, the dead fish and the phone incident, Luke and I have been circling, like sharks. By day I avoid him, but by night he emails me. A lot. Most of the time, I find myself emailing him back. It’s a lot easier when neither of us is face to face and to be honest it’s nice to have someone to talk to again. He must know something’s wrong with me, yet he still keeps talking to me. And that’s what has me confused, why does he? None of the stuff we talk about is very serious, I mean it’s hard to work out exactly what we could possibly have in common anyway, but he talks to me, for some unknown reason he talks to me.

But then, when we see each other at work, I still find it all pretty awkward. After everything that’s happened I feel too exposed, because he’s seen a part of the real me that I usually manage to keep hidden. I know it’s more than that; it’s that when he saw it, he didn’t run away. If anything, it’s only encouraged him, because now he seems to see a lot more, or wants to anyway. This makes me feel very nervous.

His party is this weekend and I still don’t know whether I’m going. I haven’t been to a party in months, not since Sam was alive and it makes me feel a little sick at the thought of walking into one now, especially where I won’t know anyone. In any case I don’t actually know where Luke lives, so that may solve my problem. Of course I could just ask him, but that would be too easy.

On Saturday however, when I come to work, my problem is invariably solved. Today there is a post-it note stuck on my coffee machine. All it says is;

3/303 Huntington Ave

8pm

I guess this is where he lives. I take the note off and put it in my pocket. I make Luke his coffee and take it out to him.

"Hey, thanks Ash," he says when I put it down. "So you’re coming tonight right?"

I look at him. He has a face of expectation, almost like a little kid who thinks he’s getting something he’s been asking about for ages. It’s almost enough to make me smile, almost.

"I’ll try," is all I can promise.

"Well I hope to see you there," he says as I turn and walk out to the front.

There’s a small part of me that almost wants to go. Like I said, I have nothing against Luke. In fact he’s been nothing but nice to me since I came back to work. He doesn’t ask me questions about what happened with Sam and he doesn’t force me to talk. By emailing me, it’s almost like he knows I prefer the removed contact, like he knows it’s the only thing I can cope with right now. There is the whole staring at me thing, which he does an awful lot, but as much as it makes me uncomfortable, there are worse things than having someone like him staring at you.

Which I guess brings me to the obvious problem. The one I can’t help but notice and definitely can’t ignore. He is good looking, really good looking. And yes if I’m being honest, then I’m probably in some small way, attracted to him. There’s no denying it, I’m only human and like all women, I can certainly appreciate an attractive guy when he walks in the room. They’re nice to look at and of course it’s always flattering when they pay attention to you. For me though, that just brings a whole host of problems with it.

He’s a lot taller than me, a lot taller than Sam was too. Not that I’m comparing them, I mean they look nothing alike, but it’s hard not to notice that difference. He has dark hair, which he keeps shaved very close to his head. He’s not bald; his hair is just very short. He comes to work in jeans and various different t-shirts featuring bands or some other logo and every morning he changes into a chef’s outfit. Both options work for him. I mean he just looks really good, period. Without even trying, he looks good and I suspect he would also look good if those clothes weren’t on him at all. He also has a great smile. One that lights up his whole face and makes it very hard for you not to just smile back at him. I think it’s part of why him staring at me and smiling so much is making me feel so nervous. I just don’t feel comfortable with that level of attention, regardless of who it’s from. It all feels too intense and it scares me.

For the rest of the day, Luke and I don’t really speak. At least not about anything that isn’t work related. But just as he’s leaving he comes and finds me. I look up when I hear him say my name.

"Yeah?"

He smiles at me again. "Tonight, it’s no big deal okay, but I’d really like it if you came along, just to, you know, hang out."

I’m standing here looking at him. He has that expectant look on his face again and between that and the smile, I’m almost convinced. "Can I bring anything then?" I ask, still not really committing.

His smile gets bigger as he says, "Just yourself," before turning and walking out.

"Okay," I answer too late.

I guess this means I’m going then.

∞

Sam never liked Liam. I don’t particularly like Liam either but I can work with him, ignore him and not really worry about him. Sam on the other hand, he hated him, but I actually found it kind of sweet when I found out why.

"I don’t like the way he looks at you Ash," he would say when I first asked why he’d decided to start picking me up from work every day.

I laughed and said, "What?"

"Liam; he looks at you like he forgets you have a boyfriend and I just want to remind him that you do." Sam said, completely serious.

I laughed again. "So what, this is some kind of macho, alpha possessive thing? You’re asserting your dominance to him?"

"Yeah I am," Sam replied, pulling me into a hug. "You belong to me, only me and I want him to know that," he continued before kissing me.

I pinched him as I jokingly said, "Yours huh, you think you own me?"

Sam smiled as he whispered, "No it’s really you who owns me Ash. My heart, it belongs to you and only you. I just want him to know that."

I laughed before kissing him and saying, "I promise you have nothing to worry about Sam, Liam’s harmless. Just ignore him, it’s what I do."

Sam still continued to pick me up after work, but I actually didn’t mind that he did. I kind of liked the idea that he was letting the world know we were together, and I really liked the idea that his heart was mine to keep.

Because he had stolen mine ages ago.

∞

I get to Luke’s place around 9pm. I want to make sure I’m not the first person there, but when I arrive and see the place is full, I suddenly wish I’d been here earlier. I don’t want to have to try and fit in with these people who clearly all know each other. I’m heading into the kitchen when Luke finds me.

"Hey Ash, you made it! Can I get you a beer?" he asks. He’s smiling at me and actually looks happy to see me here.

"Ah sure, thanks, that’d be great." I’ve already had a couple at home, trying to settle my nerves at the idea of walking into this party alone.

He grabs two, handing one to me, before leaning back against the counter with the other. The whole scene is so eerily reminiscent of my first meeting with Sam, that I briefly close my eyes, blocking the image that’s formed in front of me. Maybe I shouldn’t have come after all.

"Are you okay Ash?" Luke asks.

I open my eyes to find him looking at me, a concerned expression on his face now. It’s that same question again, the one he always seems to ask me. I must look like a total basket case to him, I have no idea why he bothers talking to me.