Page 23 of Forever Not Yours

“You might not want to help me, but Bash—he needs help.” She stopped and took a mouthful of coffee. It was probably cold by now. “Because, well. I tried, and I failed. I thought I could be everything he needed, but I couldn’t. In the end, it wasn’t enough, and I can’t even bring myself to hate him for it, because he told me. He kept telling me. He knows whathe needs, and he won’t ask for it. Because it makes him hate himself, and it’s awful to see.”

“Not following,” I said quietly. “You have to believe me that I didn’t know about Bastien. I didn’t know… I mean, he never, ever made a pass at me or anything like that.”Lame, Jake.I knew how pathetic that sounded, considering the circumstances. “I mean, at one point he said something, and I thought the two of you were swingers. I didn’t ask more, but he’s always been—”

“Jake. Shut the fuck up.”

Okay. That told me.

“Look. Jake. Sexuality is not black and white, and I am not claiming to be anything but a woman who fell head over heels in love with someone. Someone who needs an awful lot of things to function day to day. He needs support. Understanding…”

“Silence,” I added.

“Silence,” she agreed. “His head sometimes needs calm. But I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about sex.”

“Okay.” I swallowed, suddenly understanding Bastien far too well. I didn’t want to talk about his sexlife with Juliet any more than he wanted to talk about it with me.

“Bastien needs to snap out of the guilt trip, because he does things, and then he thinks he is a despicable human being and doesn’t deserve anything good in the world. Bullshit if you ask me, but that’s him. And he will just clam up and wallow in it until…”

She swallowed.

“Until what, Juliet?”

She was fidgeting on the sofa, tying her hair back into a ponytail and then letting it go again.

“I’m not proud. Nor am I embarrassed, but I did a lot of trial and error. I researched. I even joined a club. One specialising in…you know. Sexual matters. I took classes. I tried, Jake, I really tried. But I’m only me, and however hard I tried, I…I’m not enough. I will never be enough for all he needs.”

“And you need to stop talking in bloody riddles, Jules. What the hell is it he needs?”

I didn’t know why I was suddenly being so snappy with her. Embarrassed on her behalf? I didn’t want to carry the secrets she was about to spill, didn’t want to betray the man who slept on my sofa. Yes, I certainlyhad kinks of my own. I’d gone to clubs, slept with more men than I wanted to remember. I’d figured out my kinks early on and honed them to my advantage. I knew what turned me on. I also knew what I really didn’t want.

I didn’t want to know.

“Jake, Bash only ever comes if he is being fucked. You know this, don’t you? Vaginal sex does absolutely nothing for him. We were trying for a baby, for fuck’s sake, and I was out there with the bloody turkey baster hoping for a miracle, and I can tell you, it never fucking came. Because he’s too bloody messed up to admit what he needs.”

“Juliet,” I warned.

“Well, you asked, and I’m telling you.”

“Not sure that’s what I asked.”

She laughed. It wasn’t a happy one.

“Bash will talk once he’s been punished. Because that’s what he needs, okay? You need to bloody punish him, and once he’s taken it, he’ll start to function again. I did my bit. I fucking tried, Jake. So over to you, big man. Do your worst. Because if you don’t? Bash will fucking lose it.”

Today had been awful, and not just because nothing had gone my way at work. I’d had a long rant of texts from Juliet, words I really didn’t want to hear. She’d apparentlybeen to see Jake, and I had no idea what that would mean for me. Could I still come back and sleep on his sofa tonight, or had she said a load of things that would make Jake resent me and, even worse, throw me out? I didn’t trust that he wanted me there, not at all.

I wasn’t a good person. Nothing about me was good. Not even the phone call to my mum calmed my nerves, even though she kept saying I was all right and that things would calm down.

Not that I’d told her anything of substance. No wedding. All called off for some vague lie of a reason I couldn’t really pull off. I could tell she didn’t believe a word coming out of my mouth, and my dad just walked off whenever the subject came up. She did express some kind of joy at me staying with Jake, though, and promised to call again tomorrow to check up on me. I shuddered at the thought.

I didn’t need check-ups. I needed my brain to stop spinning in my skull. I needed a plan. I needed peace. I had no idea what I needed, apart from…

Shit.

I wanted to lock myself in the loos and cry. I was tempted to just check into a hotel, sit there in silenceand stew in this brew I’d created, get swallowed up in the city sounds from outside, silence on the inside.

But I knew something like that would just feed my anxiety and make things unbearable in the end. Which is why I gingerly took my wanky car and drove back to Jake’s place, left it in the parking space he’d pointed out to me. The one that housed his imaginary car.

It was an old joke. Jake had never owned a car. I’d always driven him if he needed to go somewhere or simply lent him my car, one of the few things I could do to be a good friend. He’d always said I didn’t need to try so hard, that he was more than happy just seeing me, but I’d always felt inadequate to his kindness. His over-the-top birthday presents. The way he always rang me, not to check up on me, no, just to tell me something funny. I’d been a shitty friend back.

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