I watched as she nodded slowly. “I need to be alone right now.”
“Two minutes ago, you said you needed my dick inside you,” I snapped, running a hand through my hair in frustration. “You tell me to go, and then you ask me to stay. You say you want me and then you don’t. I try to leave and you stop me. You want to fuck me, and then you don’t, and then you do again, until we do and then, when it’s done, you decide that you don’t. Jesus Christ. Make your goddamn mind up, Molloy, because I can’t keep up.”
“I’m sorry, okay?” she strangled out. “I guess I just don’t cope as well with trauma as you do. I’m sorry that I’m not a robot without a heart, and possess an actual functioning set of feelings. Not everyone is as fucking perfect at turning off their emotions as you are.”
“Does it sound like my emotions are turned off?” I demanded, tone thick with the very thing she accused me of not possessing. “Because from where I’m standing, I’m being pretty fucking transparent with my emotions here, Molloy. You’re the one blowing hot and cold like a goddamn tap.”
“And now you’re shouting at me.”
“I’m not fucking shouting at you,” I shouted. “I’m trying to be here for you!”
“Well, I told you that I needed space.”
“Jesus, Aoife, I don’t know whether I’m coming or going with you.” I pushed my hands through my hair. “If you have something you need to say to me, then you might as well get it over with.”
Silence.
“You’re mad at me.”
More silence.
“You blame me.”
She didn’t respond, choosing to cover her ears with her hands instead.
“Admit it,” I demanded, feeling helpless and frustrated, as my chest heaved. “Whatever you need to say to me, just fucking admit it, Molloy.”
“Fine, Joey, fine! You want to know how I’m feeling? I’m hurt!” she screamed, scrambling onto her knees and throwing her pillow at me. “Because I was nearly raped tonight – by a man that looks just like you! And I was put in that position because of you! Because you didn’t care enough to pick up the phone and tell me what was happening. Because you didn’t spare a thought for me when you left and didn’t come back!”
And there it was.
It was out there now.
She blamed me as much as I blamed me.
“I had my back to him when he grabbed me,” she cried out hoarsely. “I thought it was you… I thought he was you, Joey! But it wasn’t you. Those weren’t your hands on my body, or your tongue on my skin, or your fingers in my hair, and now I don’t know what to feel.”
I flinched. “Jesus Christ.”
Just when I thought I couldn’t hate myself any more than I did, she opened her mouth and gave me her truth.
Choking out a huge sob, she cried, “So, yes, I’m mad at you, and maybe it’s irrational to feel it, and my emotions are all misplaced, but I’m mad, and hurt, and I’m so fucking angry with you.“ Her voice cracked, and she choked out another pained sob before admitting, “Because I was there tonight for you. Looking after your brothers for you. And because every horrible situation that I’ve found myself in this past year and a half has been for you. I keep getting hurt because I love you!”
I could smell her perfume on my skin, could feel her devastation all around me, as she looked into my eyes and ripped my heart out of my chest.
This was exactly what I had tried to stop from happening.
I didn’t want to fall in love with her and I did. I didn’t want to let her in and I did. Everything I never wanted to do, I did with her, for her, because I loved her. Because she refused to accept nothing less.
I didn’t know what to say to make it right.
I didn’t have the words to comfort her in this moment.
I couldn’t deny or rebuff what she was saying.
As hard as it was to hear, it was the truth.
I hurt her and she hurt me, it was what we seemed to do, but she couldn’t look at me now without seeing my father, and all I could see in this moment when I looked at her was my mother.
My body bowed in pain.
I couldn’t breathe.
Deciding it was safer to keep my mouth shut in this moment, I quickly climbed out of her bed and moved for my clothes.
“What are you doing?”
I didn’t answer her.
“Joey?”
I couldn’t.
Ignoring the pain impaling my chest, crushing down on my windpipe, I focused on what my brain was telling me.
Turn it off.
Just stop feeling.
Had I listened to my head from the start, I wouldn’t be here.
My heart had fucked me over and opened me up to all of this unnecessary suffering.
With my brain in the driving seat and my mangled heart splattered all over her bedroom walls, I focused on putting my clothes back on.
My movements were rigid, automatic even, as I finished dressing, and walked over to her bedroom window, drowning in the sound of her pained cries.
“No, no, no, don’t go,” she begged, scrambling off the bed and closing the space between us. “I’m sorry, Joe. I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it – I just… I need you to stay.”
“I meant what I said,” I replied, straining my neck away from her lips when she tried to hold and kiss me. “If you change your mind about going to the Gards, I’ll support you every step of the way.”
“Don’t go.”
“I’m sorry.” Gently peeling her hands away from my body, I placed them at her sides and moved for the window, needing to get as far as from this girl as I could before I did any further damage. “I love you.”
“Joey!”
“I’ll be seeing ya, Molloy.”
And then I climbed out of her window and slipped into the night.
A little while later, I found myself standing in front of a familiar house, with my hands in the front pocket of my hoodie, my heart in shreds, and my head bowed in resignation.
Expelling a frustrated breath, I reached up and rapped my knuckles against the graffiti-sprayed board that covered the broken pane of glass in the door.
When the door swung inwards, the only judgement I felt came directly from my conscience as it roared scumbag in my head.
“Lynchy,” Shane acknowledged, cigarette balancing from his lips, as he waited for me to explain my sudden reappearance.
“I need somewhere to crash for a few days,” I heard myself say, forcing myself to meet his gaze.
“Old man up to his tricks again?”
I knew he was searching my face for the usual bruises – the ones that had led me to take solace on his couch more times than I could count down through the years.
Remaining silent, I nodded stiffly.
“Why aren’t ya crashing with that doll of yours?”
“That’s done with.”
“No shit?” His brows shot up, and he reached for the cigarette balancing between his lips. “Done with how?”
I shrugged, resisting the urge to fucking scream. “Meaning she’s done with my bullshit. Can I crash here or not?”
Exhaling a cloud of smoke, Shane stepped aside and gestured for me to come in.