Page 90 of Indigo

“Maybe you’ve had enough, yeah?”

“Fuck you,” she seethes, scrambling to her feet and turning away from me.

Defeated, I sigh. “I’ll make you some coffee.”

Hope she hasn’t broken all the coffee mugs.

The room is silent for a moment apart from the sound of the tap dripping every so often, and then she turns back around.

“You don’t get it,” she screams, fat tears rolling down her face.

“Blue,” I beg, reaching for her, having no idea what to do to make this better. Easier. More bearable.

Just let me hold you, baby.

“My entire world has stopped fucking spinning, and everyone is carrying on like it’s a normal day. How am I supposed to just get up and make a cup of coffee like nothing happened? Like my mum didn’t just fucking die? How am I supposed to cook dinner and sit at the table without her, knowing she’ll never sit there again? I don’t even know how to exist in a world she isn’t a part of, Pax.”

“I know,” I whisper, but she yells over me before I can continue, hysterical at this point.

“You fucking don’t, though. You don’t know. You have no idea how I feel. How empty my chest feels right now. How much I hurt every single day thinking about her. I can’t even smell her in there anymore.” She waves her hand around, gesturing toward the bedroom, I assume. “What happens when I can’t remember what her voice sounds like? When I can’t remember every detail of her face? What happens then?”

I hold my shit together, barely, feeling her pain as if it’s my own. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, taking a step forward, hoping this will be the time she doesn’t back away from me.

“Oh shut up,” she groans, running her hands roughly over her face, retreating three steps. “Shut the fuck up. I’m so sick of hearing, ‘I’m sorry Indie’, ‘my condolences, Indie’, ‘she’ll always be watching you, Indie.’”

I follow closely behind her as she spins around and storms into the living room.

She picks up a framed photo of her and Lana from the TV cabinet and throws it against the wall, shattering the glass.

“It doesn’t matter if she’s watching me because she’s not here,” she sobs, picking up the books on the coffee table and throwing them, too.

I move to stop her, scared that she’ll hurt herself, but as I watch, I realise this is the first time I’ve seen her look alive since Lana died. Her eyes are fiery, full of anger, and hurt, and grief, but she’s there. She’s in there.

So, I let her destroy the place. I let her throw DVDs around the room, turn over the coffee table, toss the throw pillows outside. I hold my breath as she moves into the dining room and knocks over the chairs, the table. I cry with her as she pulls the artwork she drew for Lana from the walls, which have been proudly displayed in the entryway. And then, I wait until she’s so tired that she flops onto the couch and cries herself to sleep.

Once I know she’s not waking up, I carry her into the bedroom and tuck her into bed.

I kiss her forehead, pull the covers up to her chin, and breathe her in, realising this is the closest I’ve been to her in weeks.

The knowledge that if she was awake she wouldn’t allow it, hurts.

“You’re okay, Blue,” I whisper to myself more than her. “We’ll get through this.”

Brushing the tears from her face as she sleeps peacefully, I savour the moment before reluctantly letting myself out, leaving the door open in case she wakes in the middle of the night and needs me.

Dragging my feet back into the living room, I begin to clean up. Tears fill my eyes as I do.

Soon enough, the front door opens and Jagger, Matt and Paisley let themselves in, as they do most nights around this time.

“Jesus,” Jagger says, looking around.

Matt and Paisley remain silent, but their eyes are wide in horror as they take in the scene.

“Yeah, she uh, got a little angry,” I say, feeling my lips pull into a small grin as the words leave my mouth.

“Well, that's good, right?” Paisley asks, bending down and picking up a broken picture frame. “Means she’s working her way through the stages of grief?”

I shake my head. “I think the blender full of margaritas she drank tonight had more to do with it than anything else.”

---