Page 40 of The Two Halves of My Heart

“Mads, listen. I want to go.” I tugged on his arm, but he brushed me off, keeping his attention on the fight below.

With my stomach churning and fear ready to overrun my bloodstream, I took a step away from Mads, sure that I could make it back out without him.

“I’m going!” I screamed at him. He finally heard me, and his face morphed from excitement, to worry.

My feet inched back, but I bumped into another spectator, and I turned so that I didn’t run into anyone else. I walked back through the people who seemed to have appeared from nowhere. I ducked and dived, back up the levels until I saw the bar, then around the edge and into the entrance of the corridor.

I took a breather before going farther and looked back. Maddison was a few feet behind me, following in my path. Relief flooded me but didn’t calm the shakes that now wrecked me.

“Come on.” He’d caught up with me, pulled me against him and led me out.

When we were out in the open, I took a deep, calming breath. “Take me home.”

Maddison at least agreed with no argument. He nodded and pulled me against him again. As we walked back to the car, I could feel his heartbeat keeping time as I rested my head against his chest. I focused on the rhythm and let it calm my racing heart.

We sat in the car, and I waited for him to start driving. “I’m sorry.”

“Okay.”

We didn’t say anything else the entire ride home. My fingers fiddled with the small cat on my wrist, smoothing it in between my thumb and forefinger. All I wanted to do was bolt from the car and run back to my room where I could forget about watching people throwing punches for fun.

“Hey, I’m sorry.” As if he knew my intention, Maddison took my arm before I could flee the car. “Look at me,” he pleaded. I raised my eyes to his, and I saw the confusion and worry there. “Are we okay?”

“Just, don’t take me back there. I wanted a date for my birthday, not a fight.” I pulled away and opened the door. And I realised that it wasn’t just the fight or the place. It was the disappointment of the non-date. I’d finally agreed to let Mads take me out, and it was an epic failure. And worse, what on earth had Mads got himself mixed up in?

The good thing about the disastrous non-date was that it gave me something to focus on other than my exam results. I could have gone in to collect them in person, but by the time I woke up in the morning, I’d had my emails from all of the universities with offers, which meant my results didn’t really matter.

Now to decide.

“Sweetie? Do you want breakfast?”

“Sure, I’ll be right down.” I gave Bob an affectionate rub before going down to tell Mum the good news. A huge spread of pancakes, strawberries, yoghurt, and pastries decorated the table. “Mum!” All my favourite foods were ready for me to eat.

“I wanted to celebrate.”

“Thank you.” I offered her a small hug before taking a seat.

“So, have you made any decisions now you know all of your options?” Mum asked as I speared a berry.

“Well, I think I need to decide between Nottingham and St Mary’s.” I took a bite of a croissant and let the flaky pastry melt in my mouth.

“Not Bristol?”

I looked up at her. She wasn’t letting this go. “Mum, it was my safety choice. I don’t think I need to take it up.”

“Listen, sweetie. Now you’re an adult I think I should tell you a little more about why we moved out here.”

“Okay…” I waited for her to go on. It had been over ten years, and when we did first move here, it was everything my last home wasn’t. I was too young to ask questions, and why would I when I got to play and be happy?

“You might not remember him well, but we moved because of your father. Or to escape him.” I remembered bringing up questions about my dad a few years ago, but she hadn’t wanted to discuss it. The way she emphasised the word escape, repeated over in my head, and I knew I needed to hear the rest of this story.

“He was charming and handsome and everything I thought I wanted. Until he changed. He became involved with some nasty guys. Gambling, drinking, staying out all the time. I didn’t notice at first as I had a new baby to occupy myself. But as you got older, he got worse. He was constantly in debt, his mood changed, he wasn’t the man I fell in love with, and he didn’t make any effort to be in your life.”

As Mum set out the picture for me, I was surprised by the lack of emotion I was feeling. Subconsciously, perhaps, I didn’t want to know about my dad. And now she was justifying what I had known deep down all along, just with the full gory details.

“We’d started getting into arguments about his behaviour. And as time went on, it just got worse and worse. I carried on the best I could, working as much as possible to save and keep money away from him because he’d just spend it or gamble it away.”

“So, what made you leave?”

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