He stares at me for a long time, then closes his eyes as he says on a sob, “I fucked my Dad’s wife.”
His shoulders shake as he rests his head on my chest and cries, and I cry with him and for him. I hold his head to my heart that’s breaking for him right now and I try to sooth him with calming words, he leans back against the tiles and slides to the floor, pulling me into his lap. I wrap my arms around his neck and just hold him. That fucking woman. Right at this moment I don’t think I have ever despised another human being as much as I do her, my jaw clenches, does she have any idea how badly she has fucked up his life, would she even care if she did know? I want to kill her, I actually want to go and buy a gun and shoot her, but not somewhere fatal. I want to shoot her somewhere that will make her bleed out and die a slow painful death and before she dies, I want her to see me walk away so that she knows she is about to die, totally alone. Is that too much; too wicked a death for what she’s done to him? She totally changed the course of his life with her actions and despite the fact they ultimately bought him to me. I would give up on ever having met him in a heartbeat if it meant he didn’t have to live with the guilt of what went on between him and Jackie.
I tilt his face up to mine and look into his bloodshot eyes and I know speaking is going to be a struggle as I look at the pain written all over his face, my bottom lip trembles as I start to talk. “You listen to me. You didn’t fuck her, she fucked you, she came to you, she used and abused you, then she threatened you. She is a criminal; she should go to prison for what she’s done and you.”
I lose it for a minute and can’t hold my tears back. “You were her innocent victim, please, please believe me Gabe, you did nothing wrong, it was all her, I don’t know why we are having this conversation again, I can’t begin to explain how to make it any clearer. You are seeing this all wrong. What she did was wrong, you are innocent, please stop punishing yourself for something you didn’t do, something you’re not guilty of. Please, for my sake, for Ava’s sake and for the two babies we have growing inside me now, please stop blaming yourself and let’s stop letting her have any influence over our lives. I love you, I love you beyond words, there’s not a sentence I could come up with that would express adequately what I feel for you, what you mean to me, you are stuck with me and Bruce and Sheila forever baby. And all of us and Ava and my boys will build a life together and yes sometimes it will be shit and we will fight and argue basically because I’m always right and you have yet to accept that fact. But also because that is life, that’s what couples do, that’s what families do. And that’s what we are going to be, a totally fucked up, dysfunctional, blended family, but I swear, I will love each and every one of you and fight to make you understand that fact, until the day I die.”
We sit in almost silence for a few long moments, the only sound is the water from the shower splashing down on us; I can feel his heart pounding as I sit with my palm against his chest, it’s rapid rhythm matching the beat of my own. I hate that he still feels so much guilt over what Jackie did to him as a young man, I hate that he feels so undeserving of the love we all feel for him. All of us, not just myself and Ava but his brothers and sister, his sisters in law, his nieces and nephews, even my friends. Even Ryder. It’s so apparent to me how much his family love him and how much my friends and family have come to love him over these past months that I can’t believe he would feel so insecure, so unworthy. I can’t believe that this beautiful, funny, loving man who has women stuttering and stammering their words in his presence and their knickers combusting at his smile, who outwardly oozes self-confidence and charm, feels so unworthy of any affection sent his way. He rubs the palms of his hands over his face and the tips of his fingers across his eyes, then strokes my cheek with the back of his hand.
“You’re pretty eloquent when you wanna be Lauren. For a mouthy little London bird.”
He keeps a straight face as he talks to me, looking right into my eyes, without missing a beat I reply. “Well that would be because technically I’m a mouthy little Essex bird and not a London bird. And we is deep in Essex. Ya get me blud?”
“What are you saying? What was that?”
“I’m not really sure, it’s how the kids talk now where I come from.”
“Well don’t do it again. It’s disturbing, and I doubt very much that they sound anything like that.”
“Oh they do, I heard them last time I went back.”
“Really? They really sound like you just did?”
“Yep.”
“Really, you’re sure?”
“Sort of.”
“They don’t sound anything like that do they Lauren? I’ve watched The Bill and Eastenders, they sound nothing like you just did.”