Page 64 of Still Falling for You

‘I was in love with him, you know. Long before you even noticed him,’ she confesses miserably, her words a bare whisper over the storm. ‘He never noticed me even though I made it clear I liked him. And then he only had eyes for you. Do you know how that feels?’ She wraps the coat around her body protectively, but the wind laces through the layers of her clothing like a knife through half-melted butter. She looks suddenly smaller, less glamorous.

‘What? One person out of the whole universe rejecting you? Boohoo. That must have been tough.’ My words are harsh, but I’m done being cowered by her personality. I like myself the way I am and that’s enough.

‘You never knew what it was like for me at home. My dad was emotionally abusive, and Mum always expected me to be perfect because, in my dad’s eyes, she could never be. One misstep and it was marked against me forever. I always paid for it.’ A sick feeling builds up in my body at her confession. ‘They’ve always doted on you. You were perfect. I was too loudand not studious enough. But Holly was perfection. Holly did this and that. That’s all I had to listen to when I was a teenager. And then the only boy I ever liked wanted you.’ She sounds so miserable and so unlike herself I hug my arms around my freezing body for comfort.

She always made me feel she had a perfect life. She’s always been pretty and bright and funny. Everyone always loved her. Or did they?

‘Even now my parents are like, “Look at Holly. She’s a fucking teacher.”I’m so sick of being second. Why do you think I had to get out as soon as I could?’ Her voice breaks, water sluicing down her coat and to her bare legs that are covered in mud splatters. She resembles a drowned rat, her blonde hair plastered to her long, graceful neck. ‘Back then, I didn’t think. I wanted him, and I would have done anything to get him. I chased him even when you got together. I messaged him some awful things to make him feel the way he made me feel, but I still made the messages sound like he was the one following me. I knew he was trapped; he couldn’t tell you or show you. I made sure of that. I was beyond reason because I was hurting.’ Her voice is all over the place like a badly tuned instrument.

‘Then you launched yourself at him at Meg’s party? What did he do? The truth this time.’

‘I kissed him, and he said no. But I convinced myself that he was playing hard to get so I pushed him into an armchair and threw myself at him. He froze and stupidly I took it as a yes. When he eventually pushed me away, he sent me to hell. I threatened that I would tell you that he forced me if he told you about it.’ She looks everywhere but at me. When she does, mascara is running down her face in rivulets, and I’m not sure whether it’s her tears or rain. ‘I was embarrassed and desperate, and I didn’t want to lose you. I knew I made a mistake, and I didn’t want you to find out. You were all I had left.’

‘I’m truly sorry that you suffered as a child, but it doesn’tjustify the decisions you’ve made. You’re a shark, Vicky. You carve your way through people, leaving only debris behind. Nobody can make you feel better but yourself. We’re done.’

‘I went to apologise to him,’ she whispers weakly. ‘I found him on Facebook weeks ago when you told me he worked at your school. I finally contacted him today to apologise. I told him what I’d done. I told him you were innocent in all of that.’

‘You can’t fix something that broke ten years ago.’

She nods like she expected me to say exactly that.

‘You should have told me that things were tough at home. I would have listened; I would have been there.’ My tone is desperate because my heart is breaking all over again, but this time over a friend I’ve just lost. I wonder at my heart’s capacity to break over and over again, and yet, be able to pump blood around my body and keep me alive.

‘You looked up to me so much. I didn’t want you to pity me.’

‘How has that worked out for you?’ I don’t expect an answer. ‘And please don’t question my intelligence by pretending you did things out of not wanting my pity. You liked that I worshipped you, but I’m done feeling belittled by you. Goodbye, Vicky.’ I turn my back to her and head back to the car park. When I get in the car, she’s still standing there in the rain. I’ve never seen a lonelier sight. I pull myself together and put the car in gear.

When I finally get to Alex’s flat, it’s twenty past three. I’m soaked to the bone, and my hand is on fire, my knuckles starting to bruise. I park a street away and walk towards his flat. The area seems nice. Tall pine trees shield the view of the busy road, and everywhere I look, there are red-brick houses converted to flats. Alex’s flat is in one of the older buildings with big bay windows and perfectly manicured hedges around the communal garden. He deserves to live somewhere as peaceful as here.

A couple pushes through the main entrance, and I squeezein after them, shaking water onto the thick carpet like a dog. Lydia’s jumper is soaked through, and the jeans haven’t fared much better. There goes looking respectable.

Fuelled on adrenalin, I run up the stairs in one go. I come to a halt in front of a door with an eighteen on it. I can’t catch my breath, but it has nothing to do with me running and everything to do with the fact that I have no idea what I’m going to say to him. At this point, I’d be happy with some ice for my hand and a cup of coffee.

I brace myself and press the bell anyway.

27

There’s shuffling on the other side of the door, and when it opens, Alex is standing in the doorway, completely nonplussed. His hair is a tangle of amber waves around his freckled face, his green eyes containing multitudes of emotions. He’s wearing an old T-shirt withRamoneson it, his long, freckled arms braced against the door in tension. He’s more like the old Alex than ever.

He scans my drowned state and homes in on my injured hand that I’m trying to hide behind me.

For a moment that feels like an eternity, I’m convinced he’ll close the door on me. When he steps to the side to let me through, my knees almost buckle with relief. ‘Let’s ice it before it swells up.’ His voice is business-like, but his stiff body andthe dark circles under his eyes tell me he’s anything but calm.

Alex’s flat is everything that mine is not. It’s spacious, light and immaculately clean. Everywhere I look there are thick carpets, comfy cushions and there’s even a knitted throw over the cream sofa. It’s like I’ve walked into a Scandinavian living catalogue. I’m worried that my socks will leave wet footprints on the lush beige carpet, so I hover by the closed door, staring longingly at the sofa.

He looks down at my feet over his shoulder, understanding my predicament. ‘Don’t worry about it. Sit down. I’ll bring some ice.’

I pad towards the sofa and when I sink into it, my eyes close without volition. When Alex is gone, I cradle my hand in my arm like a baby. The knuckles have turned pink and red, and the area around them is puffy.

He comes back with a bag of peas hastily wrapped in a tea cloth in one hand and a towel and a pile of clothes in the other.

He immediately kneels by me and starts helping me out of the soaked jumper, disposing of it on the coffee table. He lifts my foot and then peels the sock off. Then he proceeds to the other. He’s very systematic like this is something he’s done hundreds of times before. Then he pushes to his knees and rubs the towel in my wet hair, obscuring my vision for a few moments. I try to empty my jumbled mind and just savour the feeling of his hands in my hair, but I cannot deny the fact that after everything that has happened, he’s still here, taking care of me. Stripped of all my defences, I choke on all the emotions pushing up my throat at the same time.

When he’s towelled my hair, he takes the wet pile to the kitchen.

‘I’ve found you some fresh clothes if you wanted to change. I’ll dry the rest of your clothes when you take them off,’ he offers, sounding oddly hoarse.

Wordlessly, he shows me to the bathroom. I quickly removeall my clothes except for my knickers because the idea of Alex drying my underwear is unsettling and pass it to him through the gap in the door. A moment later, the tumble dryer starts whirring in the distance.

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