I laugh as she stands and then pulls me up, just as my phone starts to ring, it's Gabe, my stomach instantly wants to empty its contents. I press decline, it rings again. I can feel Jo's eyes on me.
“You should talk to him Loz. Let him explain, you may have this all wrong. Whatever he may or may not have done. That boy loves you; it's obvious to anyone with a heart.”
We go and sit on the sofa as my phone continues playing Wild One. After the ninth ring I turn it to silent.
“I'm not ready to talk to him yet, I'll just cry. And I want to see his face when I ask him if it’s all true, if she blew him or if he fucked her or whatever it is they did.”
“Okay. It's up to you.”
Ten minutes later her front door is being banged off its hinges. I look up at Jo. I’m not really surprised. I had a feeling he would come looking for me. A tiny slither of hope that he would at least do that much.
“What am I telling him? For what it's worth, I think you should talk to him.”
I feel instantly sick again, but I know this has to be done.
“Can I talk to him in here or do you want me to take it out side?” I ask her.
“Fuck not outside, you’re not putting on a show for the neighbours and not for me. I'm going out and need to shower, that's why I'm home early. I'll let him in and leave you two to talk. Hear him out though yeah. I will be listening so I will know if you don’t.”
I smile and nod, hear him out? Right now I want to kill the fucker not listen to his voice, no I want to hear is voice and I want to want to kill him, but I don’t really, I want him to tell me that it’s not true, I want his arms around me, his lips on me, I want to smell him and taste him. I feel angry with myself, that despite everything, I’m still feeling all this and that I’m already missing him so much and I hate the fact that because he has called and he has now come here, once again, I am allowing myself to feel a tiny spark of hope and I really don’t want to be feeling that, I can’t allow myself to feel that.
Jo answers the door and my heart free falls to the bottom of my stomach. Landing in a million tiny pieces that float up and wrap around me as I hear his voice; that’s what he’s capable of, he can break me and put me back together in a split second and I hate that he has that power, that I’ve allowed him to have that kind of hold over me. If I ever stand a chance in this relationship, I need to stay strong and not leave with him now, I need him to at least think that he doesn’t hold all the power. The conversation at the front door goes quiet and I get that all too familiar tingle running from the top of my scalp down to the tips of my toes.
“Lauren?”
I have to close my eyes, it makes his voice more bearable if I can’t actually see him...I’m so week
“Lauren...please, we need to talk, baby please, will you look at me?”
“What do you want? I have nothing to say to you.”
I don’t dare look at him. The only place I want to be right now is in his arms. I want him to convince me I’ve got it all wrong, it’s a mistake, he loves me and wants me in exactly the way he has tried to convince me he does these past weeks, I want him inside me, saying and doing all of those things that make me feel so good, and I just know that if I meet those beautiful blue eyes with mine, I will crumble. I feel him move around the sofa, I keep staring at the carpet but he kneels down in front of me. I still don’t meet his eyes.
“Please look at me Lauren. I was drunk, I don’t really remember much, I walked in the bar and she was there with some mates. They left, she stayed. I know she wanted to fuck. She kept asking, she kept trying to kiss me. I wanted you Lauren, just you, I wanted to get back home to you and touch you, smell you, but I needed a lift so she drove me home. I told her she couldn't come in, to book a taxi to pick her up from out the front. I told her I was coming home – to our home, to you. I love you, there is no one else, only you, there has never been any one else, only you. I fucking love you Lauren and I am so, so sorry for the way I behaved yesterday... Please, please will you just look at me?”
I don't know what it is that suddenly comes over me. Disappointment, anger, at myself and at him. Whatever it is, it comes over me like a wave and it’s as if I have no control over my actions. I look up at him without actually looking him in the eye and out of nowhere I feel my arm swing back and as my fist makes contact with his jaw I roar at him.
“Liar!”
Crack! I've punched him. I've punched him so hard he tilts backwards from where he’s kneeling and smacks his head on the side of the coffee table on his way down to the carpet. I let out a cry of pain and shake my hand. Shit, that hurt, I’ve never hit someone so hard.
“Fuck, fuck you Gabe, you broke my fucking hand!”
I squeeze it under my armpit to try and stop it throbbing. I notice he's not moving but before I can jump up to see if he's okay, Jo has joined us.
“What the fuck is going on? Loz. Shit Loz. What's happened?”