Page 60 of Rewrite the Stars
Do I still love Tom Farley? Did I ever even love him or know him well enough in the first place? I’m torturing myself with guilt, anger, regret, lust and utter confusion, and it has to stop. I just don’t know how to make it stop.
‘I’ll nip out shortly to the cleaners now and grab those two suits,’ says Jack. He chats on about how much he has to do and how he’ll do it when he finishes one more coffee and reads the paper, but I can barely concentrate as I follow him back into the kitchen.
Why am I holding onto the past like this when I’ve so much in the present and a wonderful future in the palm of my hand?
‘Sophie’s right,’ he says, straightening out the newspaper with a flick of his wrist when he sits back on his perch. ‘They’re really going to town wondering who the mystery lady is who inspired this new number one hit by Blind Generation. Must be a slow news day. Surely you’d know, Charlotte? You should call them up and ask them to make you an offer to reveal all. Make a fortune.’
He laughs to himself, thinking it’s so funny, but I’m not laughing at all. I tighten my dressing gown at the waist and close my eyes for a moment and when I open them, Jack has stopped laughing too.
His face drops.
‘Charlotte, what’s wrong?’ he asks. He gets up quickly and comes to me. ‘Charlotte? You really are scaring me. You don’t look well at all.’
I gasp, like a child does when they’re crying sore and can’t get their breath.
‘No,’ I tell him. ‘I’m fine.’
Tears stream uncontrollably down my face. My mother is right. I work so hard for everything and then I ruin it. I just can’t stop myself. I ruin everything.
‘You’re not fine,’ he says to me. ‘You’re not fine at all. I can tell.’
Of course he can tell. The man knows me better sometimes than I know myself. He knows everything about me, except for this one big weight that I’ve carried around for so long. He knows everything about me except that I was once in love with a man who I couldn’t have and who I still don’t know I’m completely over yet, no matter how much I deny it to myself.
I take a deep breath. I avoid his eye. I need to get this over and done with, once and for all.
‘Look, there’s something I have to tell you,’ I say, my voice trembling. ‘I’ve lied to you and I need to come clean, but please don’t be angry with me, Jack. I should have told you earlier and I don’t know why I didn’t.’
Jack’s face falls and he leans his hand on the back of one of the kitchen chairs. He is ashen, he even looks older than he is and I am so afraid of breaking his heart. I’m so afraid of losing him. I don’t know where to start.
‘Charlotte, are you sick? If you’re sick, we’ll get you all the help we can and leave nothing to—’
‘No!’ I tell him, wishing now he would just be quiet and listen. It’s hard enough to know where to start without him guessing.
I need to start somewhere. I start with the song.
‘The song Tom Farley sang last night,’ I say to him.
‘What?’ He looks totally confused. ‘What song? The girl in Dublin?’
His eyes blink as it begins to ring clear. He actually looks relieved at first.
‘I know who he was singing it for,’ I say, not even knowing if I’m making sense. ‘But he didn’t even know I was there, I swear. Oh, this is going to sound so bad, Jack, but I wouldn’t even have gone to the concert, only Sophie said she had tickets. I shouldn’t have gone because now it looks like I was lying when I said I didn’t know he sang in Matthew’s band.’
Jack is sitting down now, a mixture of fear and utter confusion on his face. I don’t want to hurt him. I don’t love Tom. Oh, I don’t even know myself any more.
‘Charlotte, I’m lost here,’ Jack says to me in bewilderment. ‘If it’s so important that it’s made you look sick and pale, you’re going to have to slow down a bit and tell me this in some sort of chronological order. The song? What about it? Was it for you?’
I take a deep breath through my nose and then exhale long and slowly through my mouth, just like Jack had taught me to whenever I was feeling panicky or shaken at work.
‘Yes, Jack. The song he sang about missing someone and trying to get over them was about me,’ I tell him. ‘I was the one who broke Tom Farley’s heart, Jack, and he broke mine at the time too.’
Again, he looks like he is somewhat relieved at first. He exhales as if I’ve just lifted a ton of bricks from his shoulders.
‘Wow. Really? Is that it?’
I keep going.
‘Not really,’ I say. ‘The day of Matthew’s accident in Loughisland … remember I told you we had been discussing a mutual friend and how Matthew flipped? Well, I’d told Matthew how Tom and I were planning to be together. Turns out Matthew was in love with Tom too at one stage and it drove him crazy. Jack, it’s my fault that my brother is in a wheelchair.’
