“Sorry,” she said, her breath hitching.
“Don’t ever be sorry with me. I need you to be able to cry on me when you need to. Please don’t fear asking anything from me, Nell, because I’ll give it to you.”
She pressed her face into my chest and said, “I’m not scared of you saying no I’m scared of me saying yes. I don’t depend on anyone. I don’t need anyone.”
“Maybe you don’t but things are a million times easier when you do. You can’t be a one person team forever, as much as you want to.”
I ran my hand through the endless mass of wavy black hair. She made me only want to be with her. I thought I’d seen her vulnerable before but this was on a completely different level. This Nell closed every door that led to me wanting a shag with anyone else, ever again. I loved her so much and I was hers. Exclusively.
It was day two with her at my place and I didn’t know what to do with her. She was so broken I felt lost. This morning she’d started to apologise for getting in the way. She was the exact opposite of in the way and that was kind of the problem.
Chloe knew what to say better than me so I was grateful for each time she popped over.
“Do you need me to call work for you?” I asked as Nell stared at her untouched coffee.
“I called already, but thanks,” she replied. “I’ll get out of your hair today.”
“You’re not in the way. You can stay as long as you like. I want to help.”
She finally looked up and smiled. Her now dark green eyes almost looked the way they used to before she lost her mum. “Thank you, I really appreciate it, Damon, but I should go home.” She sounded regretful.
“Why don’t you stay here today and I’ll take you home tonight if you still want to go?” There was absolutely no reason at all why I couldn’t take her back now other than I just didn’t want to, so I hoped she wouldn’t ask.
“You want me to hang around your flat all day? I’ll drive you insane.”
She already did but not in the way she was talking about.
“We’ve hung out plenty of times and I’ve not wanted to strangle you yet. Stay here and I’ll drive you back later.”
“Thank you.” She wrapped her hands around the mug and bit her full lip. “I don’t know how to arrange a funeral.”
“It’s okay,” I said, “You won’t be doing it alone. Chloe is on top of things. I know she’d take over completely if you can’t.”
She didn’t have anyone on her mum’s side of the family that could do it and her dad’s were less than forthcoming. Nell shook her head. “I can’t expect her to do that.”
“You’re not expecting or asking, she’s offering. We all just want to make this as easy on you as possible.” I grabbed the mug from her hand and she let go. “This is cold, I’ll make you a fresh one.”
I hated how much she was hurting and wanted to demand she stopped looking so fucking sad. I flicked the coffee machine on and made Nell a cappuccino.
“Why are you being so nice to me?”
She’s be able to see me from the living room but my back was turned to her and it was a good thing. My jaw snapped together, fingers tightened around the mug. I couldn’t deny that she’d broken my heart, smashed it into tiny fragments, but I loved her and nothing was going to change that.
“Why do you think?” I asked, trying to keep the anger from my voice.
Shaking her head, she replied, “I honestly don’t know anymore, Damon.”
“Guilt? Sympathy?” I asked, turning around.
She lifted one shoulder and let it drop. “Maybe.”
“It’s neither of those.” Guilt was one. A small part of it. I was looking after her because I wanted to. I continued making two cappuccinos, glad to have a few minutes to myself. It pissed me off that she could think I was doing this for any other reason than because I cared and wanted to help.
I went back in after composing myself and put her drink on the coffee table. “Thanks,” she said.
Her head was still a bit of a mystery to me. I understood her reasons now but that didn’t mean I had fuck all clue about anything else.
“Are you ready to talk about it?” I asked, sitting on the sofa at the opposite end. There were so many times when she looked like she was going to open up only to turn her head away and build another layer of bricks around herself.
“I think so,” she replied, curling her legs up under her. “But you need to promise me one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Don’t pull the sympathy face.”
Raising my hand, I replied. “Deal. Tell me when things started to get bad at home.”
She looked so young as she opened her mouth, closed it again, sighed and then launched into the whole thing. “They’ve always argued, for as far back as I can remember I recall lots of shouting. I used to curl up beside the sofa when they screamed at each other. They would get right up into each other’s faces.”