Celestial Worlds

Chapter Forty-seven

    “Hey baby, how were you here?” Daniel says as he goes inside.

    I’m seated on the couch and he leans down to give me a quick kiss on the lips.

    So Jonathan was right, Stacy hasn’t told on me.

    Yet.

    I give a small smile and he furrows his eyebrows again. “Are you feeling okay now? Do you want some soup? Or coffee?” He asks concerned. He sits beside me and slings an arm around my shoulder. He places his glasses down and looks at me with worried eyes.

    “Baby, I know something’s up with you. You know it hurts me to see you like that,” he whispers. I glance at him sideways and he leans his head against my shoulder.

    Stacy’s voice comes to my mind again, replaying that scene on the front lawn clearly.

    Would I hurt a guy who’s been so nice to me?

   He has been taking me all in even though I’m acting childish and whiny; he’s still looking for way to cheer me up. In his life, even though he doesn’t have a present parent in front of him, he’s still hopeful and happy.

    He’s standing on a land full of sunshine and flowers and I’m standing on the other side. Where rain pours down and all of the plants are dead.

    When I break up with him, I wouldn’t want to rain on his land.

    “Baby, talk to me and I’ll listen. Tell me all you need to tell,” he says again in a comforting tone. After thinking about it for a while, I nod. I nod at him and he lets go of me.

    We’re seated on the couch, me looking down at my intertwined hands and Daniel, looking at me.

    “Go on, he motions.

    I take a deep breath.

    “I’ve been thinking about this for a moment,” I say quietly. I feel like he know what’s coming because he suddenly tenses. “I…I think that we,”—my voice wobbles—“That we should…stay away for a while.”

    A teardrop touches my hand.

    “You’re breaking up with me?” he whispers, strained. He looks at me, his jaw tensed. “Why?” He asks sharply. “Why Victoria?” He’s shouting now.

    He’s furious.

    “Is it because of me?” He stands up. “Is it because of me being a sore loser and having problems?” He screams. I’m crying hard now. Tears are overflowing in my eyes and they touch my hands rapidly. I’m still looking at my hands, I’m too ashamed to face him.

    “Or is it because you don’t love me,” he says. His voice is still sharp and angry but his face screams the word hurt. I look up at him, startled at what he said. His face is red and his jaw is tense. He looks so tired and his hair is messy.

    “No,” I say. But it comes out like air. It’s too quiet and too strained to be heard. “No,” I say again, a bit clearer now. “It’s not that. I do—”

    “You did!” He shouts, correcting me. Now he’s changing everything into past tense like it’s already done. Maybe he’s right, maybe I did, but I don’t anymore.

    When I don’t answer, he continues. “You think I don’t know where you go when you say those lame excuses? You think I didn’t know where you’ve been going and spending your time just to avoid me? You think I don’t know that there’s something going on between you and Jonathan?” He shouts. So he does know and he always has. And he’s just keeping them to himself. “You think I don’t know anything but I do Victoria, I do and I’m just not saying anything because I still love you,” he says, the last bit quiet and begging. “I still love you and I don’t care if it hurts because I won’t risk losing you. I can’t lose you,” he says quietly in a soft, soft whisper. He sits down beside me, not touching me or looking at me. He’s just beside me, his face buried in his hands and his shoulders are shaking. I know he’s crying and I just feel a whole lot worse.

    I’m crying hard also, my throat clouding up and making me unable to utter a word. I’m hiccupping and my eyes are so swollen because of all the crying today.

    “I’m sorry,” I whisper quietly, strained. He doesn’t look up; he just stays there beside me, his face in his hands and his shoulders shaking lightly.

    “Go,” he says after a while. “Don’t come back here. Not now or not ever.”

    He stands up and goes out, slams the front door and I hear the engine of a car rev. I know where he’s going.

    I wipe my eyes with the back of my hands, preparing to stand up. That went terrible. I hope he gets home okay or in one piece. I feel bad and sick because of what I’ve just done. I can’t believe I just broke up with him. With the guy I met at a bookstore. With the guy who helped me when all things were worse and I couldn’t find a reason to live anymore.

    I stand up and run to his room, my legs carrying me in the remaining strength they have left. I open the door and grab my duffel bag, every clothing I have on the floor and head out, not caring about my clothes that are in the wash. I walk to Northern Heights for about ten minutes and I knock on the door, still crying. When Jonathan opens the door, he rushes up to me and envelops me in a worried hug.

    “What? What happened?” he asked as soon as he pulled away from our hug.

    I shake my head and push past him; I don’t really want to talk about it now. I dump the bag on the living room and go up, straight up to the attic.

    Luckily for me Debby’s not here; it’s the weekends. I slam my body on my newly made bed and cry harder.

    I feel the bed dip and I feel Jonathan’s hand on my back.

    “Victoria, what happened?” He asks again, leaning forward and brushing my hair off of my face. “Did he freak out and hurt you?”

    “No, he didn’t hurt me,” I whisper under the pillows, it came out a little muffled and I looked at Jonathan’s eyes which are damp green and prying.

    “Then why are you crying?” He asks sternly.

    What would I tell him? That I love Daniel that’s why I’m hurt? That I still love him and I wasn’t ready to let him go?

    “Nothing,” I say under the pillows.

    “This is not nothing Victoria, I’m sick and tired of you dodging my questions so now you tell me—”

    “I still love him okay?” I shout underneath the pillows. I had to, I just had to because there’s no use of lying now.

    He shuts up, his mouth still open and he drops his hang from my back. He places his hands on his lap and he sits straight on the bed. He looks down at his hands and his face is giving no emotion. His face is blank and hard as stone. “Then why did you break up with him?” He asks with a flat tone. I look at him.

    Now I’ve hurt two boys in one day.

    “I need a minute,” he says then he stands up and goes out the door, shutting it noiselessly. I’m left alone now. With my problems and with my misery.

    I have no one but myself. But now, it seems like even my soul has despised me, it seems like I couldn’t even stand myself. Now I’m completely helpless.

    Right now, right at this moment, I wish it was the fifth month.