Page 108 of Damnation
“Admit it.”
“What do you want me to say? That I needed to turn off my brain more than I needed you? Yeah, I did. You wanna hate me for that? Get in line. But I wasn’t looking for a fucking body to use; I was looking for you. I wanted you. I needed to lose myself, and like a dumbass, I did, but you were the person I needed to do it with.”
“Is that supposed to be comforting? Make me feel, I don’t know, special because you were able to use me as an escape hatch? Do you realize how humiliating that is? I should hate you for this. I should hate your guts for everything you’re doing to me!” I pound on his bare chest with my closed fists.
“Do you think I don’t know that? Why do you think I skipped out the next morning? I felt like a piece of shit!” He slaps the wood of the door next to my temples, making it vibrate. For a long moment, we just stare silently at each other, breathing heavily.
Finally, I speak. “You’ve handled everything poorly, Thomas. All of it. Ever since your father’s death, it’s just gotten steadily worse. A succession of bad choices and actions designed to hurt me, to get me as far away from you as possible. You’ve locked me out and put up your walls again. Still, despite all of that, I’ve tried to understand. I’ve tried totake care of you, easing your pain, riding out your bad moods, watching you drink yourself into oblivion, swallowing bitterness after bitterness for days, waiting for being with you to feel good again,” I say, all in one breath. “And I don’t regret it. I did it because I really believed that was what you needed, someone to be there for you even in your lowest moments. Someone who accepted the worst of you. I did it because I wanted to do it, because I promised you.”Because I love you, I scream internally. “I promised you that I wouldn’t leave you alone and that I’d be here for you, no matter what. But this…” I stop and suck in a deep breath. “This is beyond my limits. I’m sorry.”
With an angry jerk, he brings his face closer to mine, staring furiously at me. “What are you trying to say?”
“That I can’t keep running after you if all you’re going to do is push me away.”
I watch a flash of pain cross his face but, in a second, it’s gone. Thomas drops his arms to his sides and steps back, as though my words have produced a shock wave forcing him away. “Do you want to end it?”
The question makes me freeze up. No, that’s not what I want at all. I don’t want to leave him; I struggle to breathe just at the thought of it. But last night really was the straw that broke the camel’s back. It is devastating to find out that he was on drugs when he was with me. I feel like I don’t even recognize this person standing in front of me.
“N-no, that’s not what I’m saying. But it would be better if you stayed away from me for a while. I need to figure this all out, and I can’t do that when you’re around. You confuse me. You fog up my mind, and I can’t afford that anymore.”
He watches me intently, and it’s only a matter of moments before the disorientation on his face gives way to a contemptuous sneer. “Those fucking games won’t work on me,” he pronounces, running a hand through his damp hair in frustration. He walks away from me to a bench in the center of the room.
“What games are you talking about?” I ask him, bewildered.
“Asking me for time to think just because you don’t have the gutsto tell me that you want to end it,” he answers icily, tossing his uniform into his bag. Then he turns his green eyes on me, full of anger. “I don’t do half measures. Either you’re in or you’re out.”
My throat tightens. “Excuse me? You, the guy who wanted me in his bed but not in his life, are telling me that you don’t do half measures?” I realize that this is not the point, but I find it ridiculous that he thinks he’s in a position to give me an ultimatum.
He shrugs his shoulders arrogantly, zipping up the bag. “Things change.”
“Oh, go to hell, Thomas! After everything you’ve put me through in the last few weeks, you have zero right to try to back me into a corner!” I scream with an outrage that I can no longer contain. “If we’ve reached that point, you are the one to blame. You chose alcohol over me. You chose drugs over me. Yet I’m still here, and all I’m asking for is time! But if it’s easier for you to break up with me than to respect my decision, then you know what? Do it.”
I don’t give him any time to answer before I’m already out the door. He tries to catch my arm, but I wriggle free. He calls my name, but it’s not enough. The last thing I hear before I turn the corner is the locker room door slamming with a thud.
I run all the way home. I throw my bag on the floor and fall into bed. I burst into tears, sobs wracking my body. I cry all afternoon, all night, until I have no more tears left. The next day, I call in sick to work and skip my classes. I don’t want to do anything. I tell Alex and Tiffany that I’m too busy studying; I don’t want to talk to them either. I just want to lie here in bed, surrounded by wet, crumpled tissues, and stare up at the ceiling.
And I know it’s contradictory because I was the one who wanted it, but Thomas’s silence hurts me. I really didn’t want to break up with him. I didn’t want him to break up with me. I just wanted it to go back to how it was before his father. Before everything collapsed.
By evening, I find the strength to get out of bed and take a shower. I have to at least try to make myself presentable for dinner with my mother. I don’t want to make her suspicious. So I use concealer to hidethe dark circles under my eyes, and give myself a light dusting of blush and a transparent coat of lip gloss. Then I pull on a pair of sheer black tights and a black skirt that falls just above my knees followed by a white turtleneck. I wear my black boots and a long coat. Before I leave, I look into the mirror and try to produce the fake smile that will be my faithful companion throughout the evening. But I don’t look at all convincing. I try a couple more times, but I end up just looking like I’m having mouth spasms. I give up.
***
Half an hour later, I’m sitting with my legs crossed and my foot jiggling nervously under the table. I stare out the enormous windows overlooking the garden outside, all refined furnishings, warm tones, and soft lighting. It’s one of those places where they check a book for your reservation, pull back the chair when you sit down, and try to pass off a small appetizer as a full first course. Crooks. The drinks alone are going to cost an arm and a leg. My mother seems perfectly at ease though, and Victor, dressed to the nines, studies the menu with all the intensity he’d use to plot his next chess move against some imaginary opponent.
My mother’s bright blue eyes, on the other hand, scrutinize me relentlessly as I stare into the middle distance and swallow the last sip of the sparkling wine that they offered us on the house. She knows that something is bothering me, and I’m sure she’s just racking her brain trying to figure out what it is.
I already told her during the car ride to the restaurant that Thomas was too busy with the team to come. At first, it seemed like she bought it. Yet she’s still giving me suspicious looks.
“You’re very quiet this evening,” she observes. “More so than usual, I mean.”
I gulp down the last bit of wine and clear my throat. “I’m fine,” I answer, improvising one of those smiles I practiced earlier, hoping that I sound convincing. “Just a little tired, that’s all.”
“You shouldn’t work so many hours. It’s counterproductive toyour mental and physical health and, most importantly, to your studies, which I hope you aren’t neglecting.”
“Esther,” Victor chides her.
“Work isn’t a problem,” I explain calmly, fiddling with the corners of my napkin. It’s true; it’s everything else in my life that’s a mess…
“And how are things with that boy?” she asks, sounding as though she doesn’t really care about the answer. “It’s too bad he wasn’t able to come; I was counting on it,” she finishes, giving the slim watch around her wrist a gentle shake.
