Page 50 of Cuts Like An Angel: Part 3

He got off the swing, letting go of Rosie and she snuggled into herself, but stayed there. The rain had stopped, although the clouds still created one grey hue across the sky. “I just want to feel normal. I feel so pathetic all the time. Like I let you down.” No. That was a lie. He did let her down. He let her down all the damn time.

“You don’t let me down, William. I love you, okay?”

He paced to the other side of their porch, where they hadn’t quite finished the railing. It cut off abruptly and the wood was a different shade too because they’d not had the chance to seal it yet. He’d have to do that before the weather made it impossible, otherwise, it would be ruined come next summer, and their hard work would be a waste.

“You never say it back to me,” Rosie said.

“What?”

Rosie pulled her legs under her and wrapped herself in his jumper. “That you love me. You never say it.”

“But you know I do. We’ve talked about this.”

“Sometimes I need to hear it.”

He bit on his lip as if he was afraid those three words might come out and he’d not be able to stop them. “People say it all the time and don’t mean it. It’s just words.”

“It’s not always just words.” She watched him for a little while, but he bowed his head. “Do you think if you say it, then I’ll leave? Is that it? Is that why you don’t let me in sometimes? Because you think I’ll leave?”

“I do let you in.”

She shook her head. “Not really. Maybe you think you do, but you don’t. Like before. You went off.”

“I …”

She held up a hand to stop him. “I’m not complaining. I’m just saying. We’re a team. You can count on me. I’m here.”

He strode over to where they were planning to put the barbeque in the summer, moved the tools and then put them back again. The red bricks of the house felt dark under the shadows of the grey weather, darker than usual. “I try,” he said. “It’s hard when the only person you’ve had to rely on is yourself. A habit, you know? It isn’t you. I just struggle to hand the reins over to someone else.”

“Did you let Sam in?”

William couldn’t catch himself fast enough at the sound of that name. It struck his heart and he knew it showed on his face because of the way Rosie looked at him. It made his heart lurch and his skin grow colder than the weather could make it. “Sam?” he said, but even that came out weak.

“Your ex.”

“How did you … did …”

“I was in the kitchen waiting for the dishwasher and having a coffee. I thought I’d sort one of the boxes out and there was a photo album on the top of it. I looked through it. I know I shouldn’t have, but I didn’t know. I was curious, I guess. There were pictures of you when you were younger and then one of you with a woman. Your mother said …”

“Whatever my mother said will be lies, you know that.”

“She said Sam died and that it broke your heart.”

It broke his heart more than he could explain, but would Rosie understand that? “Of course, it did,” he said. “She was my friend. We went to school together. Me, her, Mark … It didn’t break my heart like my mother would have you believe. What else did she say.”

“She said you loved Sam. That there was no one you’d ever love more than her, and if she hadn’t died, she’d be here and not me.”

William let his mother’s words sink in. Yes, she would say it like that, testing it. He could feel the way the hackles rose on his neck again. He went back to the swing, but rather than sit next to Rosie again, he crouched in front of her, putting himself vulnerable to her.

Rosie frowned and leant into him. “What did you do to your head? You’ve got blood …” She touched his hair, where he’d cracked his head. He almost forgot about it again. He’d gone for coffee with Dana and then cleaned it up in the bathroom.

“I fell. I was climbing down beside the river.”

“You went to the river? To the bridge?”

“I wasn’t there to do anything. I just needed air. I like that spot. I’m fine. Other than a little bruise, its nothing, I promise.”

He could see she wasn’t convinced. The way she stared at him, all wide eyes and defiance on her face. Or maybe she was just tired. “Sam was my friend,” William said. “She was a friend of Mark’s too. We hung out together.”

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