“Nell,” I called. “Come on, it’s been two days and I’m not leaving until after you’ve let me in.”
She would’ve heard me. Her whole building would’ve heard me. Now it was a battle of wills and I was not going to give up. If I had to wait here until she eventually left her place – which she’d have to do at some point – I’d do it.
“Nell!” I shouted, hammering on her door. “Open up!”
The door flew open and she scowled. “That the fuck are you doing?”
“What the fuck are you doing?” I asked. “You’ve been ignoring my calls and texts. Chloe’s too. We’re worried and frankly this shutting us out thing is getting old. If you need time that’s fine but you can’t just drop off the face of the earth and expect us not to worry. Take months if you need it but check in, give us something so we’re not laying awake scared shitless that you’re doing something stupid.”
“I’m not going to top myself, Damon.”
“How do we know that? You’ve never been one to over share but you’ve also never locked yourself away for days. We know nothing about how you’re coping.”
“I’m coping fine,” she growled, gripping the edge of the door in her hand.
It didn’t look that way. She was pale, her cheeks were sunken and her eyes were bloodshot and tired. “Are you?”
“Yes.”
I pressed my palm on the outside of the door because she looked seconds away from slamming it in my face.
“Then let me in for a minute.”
“What for? You asked if I was okay and I told you I am. You said you’d give me space if I want it.”
I closed my eyes. She was hurting. The spark in her eyes was gone.
“Please. Please just let me come in for a minute,” I said, defeated.
Couldn’t she see how much I needed to take care of her?
Sighing in frustration, she stepped aside and opened the door. “Fine. Five minutes but I really don’t know what difference it’s going to make. I’m not drowning my sorrows in booze or shooting up in the bathroom. I just want to be alone, it’s my way of dealing.”
“I get that,” I said, taking a look around. The place wasn’t particularly messy but you could tell she’d not done any cleaning in a little while. It mostly looked like no one had been here, like she’d not done or used anything in the last few days.
“Do you want a drink?” She asked, slamming the door. Her whole demeanour was hostile and all she wanted was for me to leave, which was clear from the slight glare she’d had for me since she opened the door.
“A coffee would be great, thanks.”
After pursing her lips, she nodded once. “Fine.”
I followed her into the kitchen, fighting the urge to grin at her stomping around.
“Have you spoken to Chloe about the funeral arrangements?”
I knew she hadn’t, Chloe was getting concerned that if Nell didn’t get in contact soon she’d have to choose things like her outfit, flowers, songs, and which coffin to buy herself. The venue for the wake and catering was something Chlo could take care of and she was, but the personal things should be selected by Nell.
She shrugged and flicked the kettle on. “I’ll call her tomorrow, we have time.”
There was longer than usual because the nature of her death required a post-mortem and the police were investigating the circumstances but time was still running out.
“Okay. If you want I can go with you to choose the outfit and to the funeral home.”
Turning around, she licked her lips. “How am I supposed to decide that? Would my mum want casual clothes or something a little fancier? White coffin, light or dark wood? We never talked about stuff like that so tell me, how the hell am I supposed to choose?”
I walked closer to her and she shook her head, telling me to back up. Her eyes filled with tears. She could tell me to leave but it wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted comfort.
“Damon, don’t,” she said sternly, giving me a warning look.
“Shh,” I said, stopping right in front of her. I dipped my head and pressed my forehead against hers. “It’s going to be okay. I’m here, baby, so you don’t have to do it alone.”
She gulped and closed her eyes, spilling tears. “No. Fuck. Damon, I need you,” she whispered.
Fucking hell. Her words and the pain bleeding from each one of them cut me open.
“Everything’s okay,” I said, finally wrapping her in my arms. “I’m not going anywhere. Ever again.”
Nell
Damon carried me into the living room and went back to make the coffee. I felt totally bare when I told him I needed him but strangely lighter too. He was willing to share the burden of what I had to deal with and the choices I needed to make. I loved him so much more for it.
“Thank you,” I said when he’d finished covering me up on the sofa and making us drinks.
“How’re you doing, babe.”
Now that was a good question. “Some minutes are easier than others. I spoke to my dad’s lawyer yesterday. He’s pleading guilty.”