On Dublin Street

~21~





After hours and hours of waiting, Ellie was sent home after the MRI. We were told because of the screw up her doctor had made not sending her for an MRI earlier that they’d request that the results be given as soon as possible. This still meant up to a two week wait. In the end we waited ten days, and those ten days were awful. A kind of blank numbness fell over us all as all the worst outcomes raced through our heads. I went to see Dr. Pritchard but I couldn’t even bring myself to talk about what was going on with me. It was a quiet session.

The whole ten days were a quiet session—the three of us sitting in the apartment, taking calls from Adam and Elodie, but not really saying anything. There was lots of tea and coffee-making, takeout, and television. But no discussion. It was like the fear had put a lock down on any meaningful conversations. And for the first time since we’d started seeing each other, Braden and I shared a bed without having sex. I didn’t know what to do for him, so I let him take the lead—when we did have sex it was slow and gentle. When we didn’t, Braden would roll me onto my side and wrap an arm around me, pulling me back into him, his head resting next to mine. I wrapped my own arm over his, hooked my foot around his leg and let him fall asleep against me like this.





***





Dr. Ferguson called and asked Ellie to come in to speak with him.

That was bad. That sounded bad. I stared at Ellie after she got off the phone and everything I’d been holding under, controlling, just burst apart at the seams. I saw the fear in Ellie’s eyes and I was so consumed by my own I couldn’t say anything to her that would help, so I didn’t say anything at all. Braden accompanied her to her appointment and I waited in the apartment—the big, cold, silent apartment—staring at the Christmas tree, disbelieving that Christmas was only ten days away.

The two hours they were gone I had to sit my ass on that steel trap door of mine to keep it closed. Or I wouldn’t be able to breathe.

When I heard the apartment door open everything felt lethargic, like we were moving underwater, struggling slowly against the weight. The sitting room door opened and Braden walked in, his face so pale and eyes so glazed, that I knew before I even looked at a tear-streaked Ellie. I knew what fear felt like when it was pulsing from a person, I knew how grief could thicken the air, how it could slam into your chest and cause pain through your whole body. Your eyes, your head, your arms, your legs, even your gums.

“They found something. A tumor. ”

My eyes flew to Ellie and she shrugged at me, her mouth trembling. “They’ve referred me to a neurologist, Dr. Dunham at The Western General. I’ve to go in and speak with him tomorrow about everything. About the next step. Whether it’s surgery. Whether it’s malignant or not,” Ellie finished.

This was not happening.

How had I let this happen?

I took a step back, confused, angry, disbelieving that this was happening again.

It was all my fault.

I’d let them in, I’d broken my rules, and I was back at square f*cking one!

Shit.

Shit!

SHIT!

But the terrified screams only echoed in my head. To Ellie I gave her a stoic nod. “You’ll be fine. We don’t know anything yet.”

But I knew. I knew. I was a curse. I knew I couldn’t be this happy. I knew that something bad would happen. What had I done to Ellie?

Ellie? I hurt for her. I wanted to take away her fear. I wanted her to be okay.

But I didn’t do any of that.

Instead I shoved her under my steel trap door. “I’ve got my shift at the bar tonight. I’m going to get in some gym time before then.” I nodded at them robotically and made to move past them.

“Jocelyn?” Braden grabbed my arm, his eyes full of apprehension and fear. And disbelief at my attitude. He needed me.

I didn’t want to need him.

I tugged my arm back gently and gave him a brittle smile. “I’ll see you both later.”

And then I walked out, leaving them alone with their fears.





***





I didn’t go to the gym. I went to Edinburgh Castle before it closed. The walk up the Royal Mile to Castlehill was brisk and frosty, the cold biting into my cheeks, my lungs seeming to work extra hard against the winter air. Once I crossed the drawbridge, I paid for my ticket, and then strolled under the stone arch and took the pebbled walkway that swept upwards on the right. I headed on up the main thoroughfare, and sketched right to the castle walls. There I stopped, standing by Mons Meg, one of the world’s oldest cannons, and together we stared out over the city. Even in the slightly misty frost, the city was breathtaking from here. I paid the not so inexpensive entry fee to the castle just for this view. And I guess for the majesty of it all. It was where I believed I could find a little peace, and I did this whenever I panicked about never, ever finding the long-lasting peace I sought. Today I needed this.

Blazing through the last few months, burying my head in the sand, pretending there weren’t consequences to loving people, had gotten me where I was. Only six months of making the change into the ‘new me’ and the floor had been ripped out from underneath me again.

That was selfish.

I knew that.

Ellie was the one suffering here, not me.

But that wasn’t true either.

Ellie Carmichael was one of a kind. She was sweet, kind, sort of goofy, funny, big-hearted… and my family. The first family I’d had since losing my own. I felt protective of her, I hurt when she hurt, I thought about her happiness, and what I could to do to help her get whatever would make her happy. Not even my relationship with Rhian had been as close.

I was almost as close with Ellie as I had been with Dru.

And now I was going to lose Ellie as well.

I sunk down to the ice-cold stone ground beside the cannon and wrapped my arms around my body in an effort to choke out the pain. It occurred to me that if I rewrote it all in my head, then maybe I wouldn’t feel this way. Maybe, Ellie and I weren’t that close. Maybe we never had been. If that were true, then losing her would be okay.

I jumped suddenly at the sound of my cell ringing. Stomach leaden with dread, I pulled it out and exhaled in relief when I saw it was Rhian calling.

“Hey,” I answered hoarsely.

“Yo, bitch,” Rhian called down the line, sounding surprisingly chipper. “How’s it hanging? I’m just calling to let you know that James and I are flying into Edinburgh in three days and then heading through to Falkirk to stay with his mum over Christmas. We’re going to nip into see you before we get the train, so I need your address, hon.”

Awful timing. “Things are kind of weird at the apartment at the moment. Can I meet you for coffee instead?”

“Jesus, Joss, you sound like hell. Is everything okay?”

I don’t want to talk about it over the phone. “I’ll explain when I see you. Coffee?”

“Yeah, okay,” she still sounded worried, “The coffee shop in the bookstore on Princes Street. Three o’ Clock, Monday.”

“See you then.” I hung up, my eyes scanning the view and then travelling upwards into the white clouds with their pale bellies and grumpy faces. It was just a vast array of weightless, floating fluff. Their bellies weren’t dark or heavy.

Without the weight, there was no rain.





***





Jo grabbed me before I could take my next customer’s order and she tugged me all the way back into the staff room. Her hands flew to her hips, her eyebrows drawn together. “You’re acting really weird.”

I shrugged, enjoying the blanket of numbness I’d found and promptly wrapped around myself. “I’m just tired.”

“No.” Jo took a step forward, her face etched with concern. “There’s something going on here with you, Joss. Look, I know we’re not really close, but you’ve always been there for me when I go on and on about my problems, so if you need to talk to me, I’m here.”

I don’t want you to be there for me. “I’m fine.”

She shook her head. “You’ve got this, like, dead look in your eyes, Joss. You’re scaring the crap out of me and Craig. Has something happened? Did something happen with Braden?”

No. And it’s not going to. “No.”

“Joss?”

“Jo, it’s really busy out there, can we not do this?”

She flinched and then bit her lip uneasily. “Okay.”

I nodded and spun on my heel, heading back into the bar to get on with it. I saw Jo sidle up to Craig and whisper something to him. His head whipped around to stare at me.

“Joss, what the f*ck is going on with you, sweetheart?”

I flipped him off as an answer.

Craig shot Jo a look. “I don’t think she wants to talk about it.”





***





To my utter shock, Braden was waiting outside of Club 39 for me. My shift had whipped by in a blur. I couldn’t even remember doing anything, so it took me a moment to come out of the fog and recognize him. He stood leaning against the wrought-iron railing, unshaved, staring down at the ground in grim contemplation, his hands shoved into the pockets of his smart, double-breasted wool coat. He turned as I stepped up onto the sidewalk and I almost flinched at the sight of him. His hair was more unkempt than usual, his eyes dark and bloodshot.

For a moment, I almost forgot that everything we’d had these last few months no longer existed. It was buried under the steel trap door. I crossed my arms over my chest, frowning up at him. “Shouldn’t you be with Ellie?”

Braden’s gaze was probing as he looked down at me. My heart hurt. He looked so young and vulnerable. I didn’t like seeing him like that. “I gave her a little whiskey. She cried herself to sleep. I thought I’d come get you.”

“You should have stayed with her.” I made to walk past him and he grabbed my arm tight, almost painfully, hauling me to a stop.

When I looked up at him, he looked less vulnerable and more pissed off. This was a Braden I recognized, and strangely, felt easier dealing with. “Like you should have stayed this afternoon?”

“I had stuff to do,” I replied blankly.

His eyes narrowed as he pulled my body into his. Like always I had to tilt my head back to meet his gaze. “You had stuff to do?” he asked in furious disbelief. “You had a f*cking friend who needed you. What the hell was that, Jocelyn?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He shook his head slowly. “Don’t,” he whispered hoarsely, dipping his head so our noses were almost touching. “Don’t do this. Not now. Whatever shit your spinning in that head of yours, stop. She needs you, babe.” He swallowed hard, his eyes glimmering in the streetlights. “I need you.”

I felt that familiar choking in the bottom of my throat. “I didn’t ask you to need me,” I whispered back.

I saw it. The hurt flickered across his face before he quickly banked it. Abruptly, he let go of me. “Fine. I don’t have time for your multitude of emotional issues. I have a wee sister who may or may not have brain cancer, and she needs me, even if you don’t. But I’ll tell you something, Jocelyn,” he stepped forward, pointing a finger in my face, his own hardened with anger, “If you don’t see her through this, you’ll hate yourself for the rest of your life. You can pretend that you don’t give a shit about me, but you can’t pretend Ellie means f*ck all to you. I’ve seen you. Do you hear me?” He hissed, his hot breath blowing across my face, his words cutting through my soul. “You love her. You can’t sweep that under the rug because it’s easier to pretend she means nothing to you than it is to bear the thought of losing her. She deserves better than that.”

I closed my eyes in pain, hating that he could see so deep inside of me. And he was right. Ellie deserved better than my cowardice. I couldn’t hide from what I felt for her because everyone had seen it and understood it. She had seen it and understood it. How could I desert her when I was the one who’d let our friendship happen? For her, I would have to be brave, even if it took everything I had left. “I’ll be there for her,” I found myself promising. I opened my eyes, hoping he could see my sincerity. “You’re right. I’ll be there for her.”

Braden squeezed his eyes closed, exhaling heavily. When he opened them, there was a tenderness in them again that I told myself I hadn’t missed for the last five minutes. “Jesus. We lost you there for a few hours. What are we going to do with you, Jocelyn butler?” He reached an arm out as if to wrap me close to him, and I dodged it, stepping back.

“You should go home and get some rest. I’ll see to Ellie tonight.”

Braden tensed, his eyes searching again, his jaw clenched. “Jocelyn?”

“Just go home, Braden.” I turned to leave but he grabbed my hand.

“Jocelyn, look at me.”

I tried to tug my hand loose but he wouldn’t let go, and it took everything within me to harden my features as I glanced back to face him. “Let go, Braden.”

“What are you doing?” he asked, sounding like he’d swallowed sandpaper.

“We’ll talk about this later. Now is not the time. This is about Ellie.”

Looking dangerous now, dangerous and determined, Braden glowered at me. “Don’t even think about breaking up with me.”

“Can we talk about this later?”

Instead of answering, Braden yanked me hard against him and crushed his mouth over mine. I could taste the Scotch and desperation on his tongue as his hand held my head against his, the kiss deep, wet and bruising. I couldn’t breathe. I pushed against his chest, making a noise of distress and he let me go. Well his mouth did. His arms still bound me tight.

“Let me go,” I whimpered, my lips swollen and sore.

“No,” he breathed harshly. “I’m not letting you do this to us. I don’t believe for a second I don’t mean anything to you.”

You don’t have a choice. “I can’t do this with you.”

“Why?”

“I just can’t.”

“Then I don’t accept that.”

I struggled in his arms, glaring up at him. “If I break up with you, you have to accept it!”

Fire-breathing Braden appeared almost instantly. “No, I f*cking don’t!”

“Hey, you alright there?” a drunk guy drew our attention and we jerked our heads around. He was squinting at me and Braden locked together and it suddenly occurred to me that we were arguing on George Street on a Friday night where there were still people around to hear us.

“We’re fine,” Braden told him calmly, still not letting me go.

The drunk guy looked at me. “You sure about that?”

Not wanting this to descend into a fight—the last thing Braden needed right now—I nodded. “We’re cool.”

The drunk eyed us again and then deciding we could work it out ourselves, he turned around and started hailing for a cab.

I glared back at Braden. “Let me go.”

“No.”

“You can’t caveman you’re way out of this.” I couldn’t meet his gaze as the pain and the lies bubbled up out of me. “I care about you, Braden, I do. You’re my friend. But this has gone on too long.”

“You’re afraid. I get it,” he bent to murmur comfortingly in my ear. “I know why you ran today, and I know why you’re running now. But shit happens, babe, there’s no protecting against it. You also can’t let it take over your life and rule your relationships with people. We need to enjoy the time we have, however long it’s going to be. Stop running.”

He should you have been a therapist.

I tried to let me body relax, and I ignored the horrendous churning in my stomach. “That’s why I’m ending it. Life is short. We should be with the people we love.”

Braden froze against me and I waited breathless, hoping for the strength to continue the lie. Slowly, he pulled away from me, his eyes hard as he gazed into mine. “You’re lying.”

Yes. I’m lying, babe. But I won’t survive you. And worse, you won’t survive me. “I’m not. I don’t love you, and after everything you’ve been through you deserve someone who loves you.”

His arms fell away from me, but not even like he meant to let go. He looked shocked. I think he was in shock. I took the opportunity to step back from him, afraid if I stayed close, I’d eventually let go of my steely resolve and tell him I was such a goddamn liar and I didn’t want him to ever let me go.

But I’d been selfish enough for one day.

“You love me,” he argued, his voice soft, low. “I’ve seen it.”

I gulped and forced myself to meet his eyes. “I care about you, but there’s a big difference.”

For a moment, I wasn’t sure if he was going to say anything, and then his eyes dulled and he gave me a sharp nod. “Alright then.”

“You’re letting me go?”

He curled his upper lip, his expression painfully bitter as he took a step back from me. “Apparently… I never had a hold of you.” He turned sharply, and without another word began striding down the street into the dark.

Braden never once looked back and that was a good thing.

If he had, he’d have seen Jocelyn Butler crying real tears for the first time in a long time, and he would have known that I’d lied. And lied big. For anyone who saw me, knew they were watching a heart in the process of it breaking.





***





“I don’t think that’s the healthiest thing you’ve ever done, Joss, do you?” Dr. Pritchard asked quietly, her brows drawn together.

“It was the best thing I’ve ever done.”

“Why do you think that?”

“If I tell Braden the truth, that I love him, he will never back down. He’s tenacious like that. And then he might spend the rest of his life with me.”

“And that would be a bad thing?”

“Well, yeah,” I responded irritably. “Did you not hear what I did to Ellie and him? I am so terrified of losing again that I pull shit like that.”

“Yes, but you’re aware now that that’s what you do. That’s a step in the right direction.”

“No it’s not. I have issues a mile long and I can’t promise that I won’t do that to him, over and over again. That’s not fair to him. Braden’s trust was broken once before by a woman he thought he loved. If I stayed with him and kept pulling that crap, I’d be breaking his trust over and over again. And he doesn’t deserve that.”

Dr. Pritchard cocked her head to the side. “That’s not up to you to decide. Surely that’s up to Braden to decide. And you don’t know for sure if you would keep pulling that crap, as you say. Being with Braden might help you through it. He might help you.”

“It didn’t help. Being with him didn’t help.”

“He talked you into being there for Ellie, and you have been. I’d say he helped.”

Stubborn determination gripped me. “I’m not telling him the truth. What I’m doing is best for him.”

“What I’m trying to say, Joss, is perhaps you should stop being a martyr. Perhaps what Braden thinks is best for him is having you in his life. And perhaps he’s willing to work through your anxiety and deal with your mile-high defenses.”

“Maybe you’re right.” I nodded, my eyes blazed as I tried to lock out the hurtful thought of Braden and me with a future together. “Maybe I am a martyr. And maybe he would. But he deserves better than that struggle. He deserves to be content in his relationship, the way my father was with my mother. And if their love has shown me anything, it’s that Braden’s right. Life is too damn short.”





***





Once the rain starts falling it’s hard to tell it to stop. I guess it stops in its own time. My tears, like the rain, kept falling as I made my way home through blurry vision. In truth it’s difficult to describe a broken heart. All I know is that unimaginable pain centers in your chest and radiates out, this throbbing, sharp ache that causes almost incapacitation. But there’s more than the ache. Denial lodges itself in your throat, and that lump is its own kind of pain. The affliction of heartbreak can also be found in a knot in your stomach. The knot contracts and expands, contracts and expands, until you’re pretty sure you’re not going to be able to hold down the vomit.

I somehow managed to hold onto at least that much of my dignity.

As soon as I got back to the apartment, through the pain of throwing away Braden came the fear. I stared down the hall at Ellie’s bedroom door, and I had to stop myself from going back on my promise not to run from her.

So I did the opposite.

I kicked off my boots, shrugged out of my coat and crept silently into her darkened room. In the moonlight shining through her window, I saw Ellie curled up in a protective ball on her side. I made a move towards her and the floor creaked under my foot, and Ellie’s eyes flew open immediately.

She gazed up at me, wide-eyed but wary.

That hurt.

I started to cry harder and at the sight of my tears, a tear slid down Ellie’s cheek. Without a word, I crawled onto her bed and right up beside her as she turned onto her back. We lay side by side, my head on her shoulder, and I grabbed her hand and held it in both of mine.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered

“It’s okay,” Ellie’s voice was hoarse with emotion. “You came back.”

And because life was too short… “I love you, Ellie Carmichael. You’re going to get through this.”

I heard her breath hitch on a sob. “I love you too, Joss.”