Heart (2 page)

What other choice do I have? Sacrifice Grace and Josh so I can be happy? I promised Dad that I would look after them, and I can’t go back on that. As much as I wished my fucked-up mum was different, that my life was different, it isn’t. That is my reality, not sitting on a beach with the girl of my dreams.

The acceptance of my fate brings tears dangerously close to the surface and I need to distract myself. I pick up a pebble and throw it, aiming for the receding sea. I miss. And again. Scouting for a larger one, I see it: a heart. Her heart. Well, a grey pebble the same shape as her heart-mark. Rubbing my thumb over its smoothness, I know I was meant to find this. I was meant to carry her to this exact spot, sit here and find this.

This way, I can carry her heart forever.

Jake’s arm was strewn across me, pegging me to the bed, but I was happy to be forced to lie still for a little while longer. Smiling to myself at the not-so-gentle sound of his snoring, I marvelled that someone so gorgeous, so goddamn beautiful, was lying naked next to me. Well, half across me. I feasted on the way his golden skin was stretched taut across his shoulder and down the defined muscles of his arm. I remembered the tautness of those arms last night, next to my head, holding the weight of his upper body off me whilst we were so closely connected below. My body tingled with the memories of the hours we had spent, luxuriating in each other’s bodies after the time we’d been apart. It was two months since we’d last been together in Brighton and so much had changed since then. But not this. Not us.

I’d been at uni for two weeks and it was amazing how much difference his arrival had made. The dark clouds had parted and he was the sun in my lonely uni experience. Okay, so it was only temporary, but I was sure I could cope if this became the pattern of my life: a couple of weeks alone, followed by a weekend with Jake. It didn’t matter where, at home or in Brighton, as long as I got to spend time with him. Like this.

I loved the way we fit together so perfectly, aligned in every way. When we were standing, the height difference was noticeable as the top of my head barely grazed his chin. Yet that made me feel safe, enveloped in his arms. But lying down, the difference disappeared. Yes, I did usually wake up with either his arms or long legs draped over me, but I liked it. Loved it.

“How long have you been awake and staring at me, Myrtle?” Jake’s yawned question interrupted my ogling.

“Oh, hours,” I joked. I could spend every hour of every day and not get my fill. Jake was that type of sexy which meant I couldn’t stop looking at him. And I wasn’t the only one, either. Over the months we had been together, I had finally got used to other girls, women even, eyeing him up, even if we were walking hand in hand. Maybe it was the permanent smile in his light blue eyes. Maybe it was the way his dirty-blond hair invited fingers to play in its messiness. Or maybe it was his ripped body, toned and tightened through hours of manual labour.
God, his body.

“Earth to Myrtle,” Jake sang. “Is anyone at home?” I rolled over and straddled his hips. Looking down, my breath caught at the intensity of his gaze. His words may have been joking, but his eyes weren’t. He wasn’t looking at me: he was consuming me, almost as if he was trying to imprint my image on his brain. I dipped my head and kissed him lightly.

“Let me clean my teeth and I’ll be back,” I mumbled against his mouth but, as I tried to pull away, his arms folded around me, rendering me immobile. I wasn’t complaining; there were far worse places to be than pressed up against his chest.

“You know that I love you, don’t you?” There was a serious edge to his voice, which made me wish I was still looking into his eyes.

“That’s a stupid question. Of course I do. I love you and you love me. It’s knowing how much you love me, and looking forward to this weekend, that has meant I’ve survived the first couple of weeks here. So, yes, I know you love me. Now, can I brush my teeth?” After a brief, breath-crushing squeeze, his arms relented and I slid off the bed.

When I left the bathroom a few minutes later, I was surprised to see him, already dressed, and perched on the edge of my tidied bed.

“Oh, I thought I was coming back to bed,” I said, my hands unconsciously playing with the belt on my dressing gown.

“Sit down, Neve.” He never called me Neve. Ever.

“Why? Can’t I put some clothes on first?”

“Please, just sit down.” The quietness in his voice had me worried so I obeyed.

Big mistake
.

That was the moment I let it happen.

“I can’t carry on doing this.”

“Carry on doing what? What are you talking about? Why are you acting so weird?”

“This.
Us
. I can’t do it anymore. I want out.” The bastard couldn’t even make eye contact with me as he broke—no, shattered—my heart.

“What the fuck? You’re kidding me, right? There’s no problem with
this
. We’re great. At least, I thought we were,” I added, turning his face around so he had no choice but to man up and look at me. “What are you doing, Jake? I know things will be a bit different when I’m here but you can come down whenever you want, and I’ll be home again in a couple of weeks. We’ll make it work. I promise.” I tried to kiss him, but he shifted his head so all I got was a stubbly cheek.

“It’s no good, Neve. My mind is made up. I came down to say goodbye.”

Never have I felt as angry as I did at that moment. Heat poured out of me, like a volcano erupting, and for a moment, I understood what compelled people to kill someone they love.

“You
came down to say goodbye
? Well, why didn’t you just do that then? But, oh no, you thought you were going to get one last shag in, didn’t you? So, you knew you were going to do this when we were in bed together? When you were telling me you loved me?” With each question, the tone and volume of my voice increased. When he tried to put his arms around me to calm me down, well, it was probably only dogs who could hear me.

“Get the fuck off me! You have no right to touch me. Not after
this
.”

“Please, don’t be like this.” The sadness in his eyes took the heat out of my anger and I wavered, desperate to find out what was going through his head. But I knew I couldn’t cope with finding out there was someone else or, worse still, that he no longer loved me. I had to stay strong.

“Get out. Get out now!” I opened the door to my room and stood sentry.

“Don’t—” I picked up his keys and phone off my desk.

“Here you go. Bye.” I forced myself to pretend I was feeling nothing but anger as I held them out to him. He walked over and took them, trying to hold onto the hand which held them. I pulled it back and thrust it into my pocket. When he opened his mouth to speak, I made sure to get in first.

“Don’t. You have no fucking right to talk to me. Remember that, no right at all. So when you realise you have made the biggest fuck-up of your life, don’t expect to come crawling back to me, apologising and telling me you love me. This is over.
You
are over.”

The venom in my words had the desired effect and he walked through the door. Slamming it shut, I leaned my forehead against it and hoped for a sign that he might not go through with it.

The bang as the entrance door to the student housing closed crushed the first hope.

The throaty roar as his van came to life crushed the second.

The sound of the engine disappearing into the distance crushed any lingering crumbs which may have remained.

Falling to the floor, I wondered exactly how many pieces my heart had just been broken into. Allowing the fake anger to disappear, my chest heaved with panicky sobs. What would I do now?

Jake was my life.

My love.

My world.

And now that world was spiralling, free-falling through space, ready to disappear into the abyss. I closed my eyes, wanting to go with it.

I pull off the main road and somehow manage to park the van, even though I can’t see a thing. And cry. Cry like a fucking girl. Actually, no. I cry like a man: head resting on the steering wheel so passers-by can’t see the mess I am, chest heaving so much I can feel it burning in my abs.

There should be a word for this, like suicide. Breaking your own heart. Who the fuck decides to do that, anyway? Me, that’s who. Because her heart is worth more than mine. I have to learn to live with this ache, knowing that her life will be the better for it.

Yeah, it was the right thing to do, but that doesn’t mean this doesn’t hurt like hell. It hurts like the other shittiest moments of my shitty life: Dad dying, Mum losing the house.

But this one was my choice.

I have to set her free. She won’t understand it now, but in the long run she’ll thank me. I mean, what do I have to offer someone like her? What sort of life can I give her? She will finish uni, get an amazing job and spend the rest of her life forever apologising for her non-academic, non-high-flying boyfriend. Husband. And she’ll end up hating me for it.

Like she probably does now.

A part of me can’t believe I’ve gone through with it. Every time I’ve rehearsed the various scenarios, I balked at the idea of hurting her. I’ve never consciously hurt her before. Why would I? She is pretty much everything that is good about my life. She is my smile, my joy, my reason to exist. I know now how empty my life was before her, how much she has given me.

Guilt makes the tears burn. I had intended to do it as soon as I got down here last night. Shit, I’d not even told anyone at home I was coming down as I expected to be back home hours ago. It was just going to be a case of ‘make her hate me and leave’.

But I hadn’t got the decency to do that. I’m too selfish. No, I needed to kiss her, taste her, feel all of her, one more time. One final time. When I was lying with her, inside her, last night, I didn’t believe I had the balls to go through with it. How could I? There was nothing to blame it on: no arguments or unreasonable behaviour. Just warmth, and love, and comfort.

But that’s all gone now.

Of course I knew it would hurt, but I hadn’t expected it to feel like I was ripping my own heart out. I mean, I knew it was coming, didn’t I? What I hadn’t thought about was what it would do to me, seeing her hurt like that. I know her too well to fall for the angry mask she tried to conceal her hurt with. That was the moment I felt like the biggest bastard in the world. That was the moment I almost relented and took back the lies I had spoken. I just wanted to take away the pain I had caused.

But it’s better if she feels angry; it will distract her from the hurt. And, as tempted as I am to pick up my phone and make it all better again, I can’t. I have to stay strong. For her.

This is all for her.

It always was.

It always will be.

“Hey, are you okay in there?” The female voice vibrated through my skull. Trying to sit up, I realised the voice and knocking were amplified as I lay with my head resting against the door. I couldn’t even remember falling asleep. And then I remembered. Not about falling asleep, but about Jake.

About him ending it.