Page 31 of Don't Bite the Boy Next Door
“No,” he sighs, “I’ll never be that, Snow, I’m no good.”
“No good how?” I whisper.
“Just, no good,” he sighs, “I think it might be time for you to go.”
I stare at him, silently, before whispering back.
“I’m not good.”
‘God, if only you knew how bad, very, very bad I am.’
“Tess,” he shakes his head, “you’re goodness personified; sunshine against a world of cloud. And that is all the more reason for us to live our lives as neighbours, nothing more. I wouldn’t want to dim your light, any woman’s light, and that is what I would inevitably do.”
I nod, thinking through what he is trying to say, sifting the words to see which sit as true, and which I don’t accept.
‘Sunshine? I haven’t seen that in centuries.’
“We could be friends?” I smile weakly.
‘You idiot, he doesn’t find you attractive; it’s pretty obvious. Bow out now while you still have an inch of self-respect left.’
“Yes,” he sighs, shaking his head at me as though his words are the complete opposite of his thoughts, “we could be friends.”
“Let’s be friendsandneighbours,” I raise my hands in supplication, ignoring my own advice to myself.
‘Please.’
“After all, you never know when you might need to be rescued from a well.”
‘And I so want to be near you.’
“You make a good point,” he smiles ruefully, “but no more talk of princes.”
I nod my agreement. But in my heart, he is still the prince.
“So,” I shrug, “friend. I know you don’t like to talk about your time in the forces, but what about your family? The nurse said I’m the only visitor you’ve had, so I guess you haven’t wanted to call anyone, loved ones, let them know you are in hospital?”
“No.” he sniggers, suddenly bitter.
Seeing me frown, waiting for an explanation, he shakes his head as though he’d like to say nothing, but words want to come, nevertheless.
“My father was ex-military, a vicious wife-beating bastard who pressured me to enter a life that I didn’t want, and ultimately couldn’t cope with. I felt nothing as I buried him. My mother is quiet, gentle, and despite his brutality, lost without him. I see the same fear she had for him in her eyes when she looks at me, and it makes me sick. Is that what you want to know, Tess?”
“No,” I whisper.
“Christ! don’t look at me like that,” he mutters. “I don’t want your pity; don’t pin your soft heart on me. This is why I said I just want to be neighbours. I’m not what you need – and I’m sure as hell not a healthy friend for you – or anything else.”
I sit silently, saddened by what he has told me, mortified that he has read me so easily, seen how obsessed I am with him. Of course, I wanted more than friendship, any fool could see that.
“I, ugh, I’m sorry. I just thought…,” I whisper, feeling tears close to the surface as I voice the lie, knowing I have to run out before they escape my lids. “But you don’t need to go on. I realise now, I’m not the kind of friend you need, either.”
‘Unless you want to know a blood-sucking monster who has such a foul past she would make your father seem like a saint.’
“Snow,” he sighs, shaking his head.
‘Who am I kidding? This man is not for me.’
I rise and make for the door.
